Mobile phones are lovely, fun and lately necessary things.
For years I fought getting one. However, I have acclimated quite well to the nuisance.
In OZ. I paid a fee. I texted and rang to my merry delight. Texting more than ringing, b/c it was quick and somewhat removed and clever.
In TX. I pay a fee. And the service providers charge and roam and this bit and that bit and times and what not and so I pay more and I don't text at all because no one I know over here does. Slightly less fun.
So I have this new little flippy phone. They gave me the number when I signed up for the service. Actually, Arti - phone service guy, he let me pick which number I wanted out of a list of 30 which he read off to me from his little screen. Ok so maybe it was only a choice of 10, but it sounded like 30 when each number has 10 digits to it. All I could think is I want the one that'll be easy for the kids to remember. No one else remembers numbers anymore they just program them into their phones and direct dial. I am guilty of that one as well, although I retain some numbers in my head forever. Some are important to my heart and others like the number for Pizza Hut in Australia are just stuck there, when I am quite aged and my red hair has turned gray and fallen out I am pretty sure I'll still be able to sing 3892 1111 with the catchy little diddy.
I picked my number. It is easy to recall.
It is remarkabley close to a local taxi service number in the town in which I live now. This fact is now etched into my mind. Never do I get the call for a taxi ride in the afternoon. Or morning. Or evening even. Always the phone rings at a hideous hour, usually shortly after I have managed to fall asleep.
1 somethingish am. I let it ring out. They rang back twice. The third time I answered. Now I am not sure if it was the late hour, my irritability, or sense of humour that caused me to do it. He said they needed a ride, from Northgate. I agreed in my funky australian texan accent. "right-o, no problem." I asked had they had a lovely evening, enjoyed the game, had a fun night out on the town? Yada-yada. Told him I'd be right on that run.
I hung up and went straight on back to bed.
I am sure he'd be fine, I could hear the giggling in the background, at least he had company while he waited for his taxi.
Only slightly wicked.
19 November 2006
08 November 2006
blur
It started with trunk or treat and ended with the celebration dinner of an undefeated season 7 days later.
Trunk or Treat. A parking lot filled with cars all parked boot in. Their are games in to be played in the boot. Play the game, collect a lollie. Walk on with a smile. Also brought in for a special treat, an inflated wrestling ring with helmets and a bar with two overinflated marshmallow looking bobbies on the end. To boys of all ages this was the place you go with your mate to see if you can bash the crude out of him - in a friendly way. Not really, the testosterone got going and they just wap each other until they had fallen completely over four times, then they had to trade. All fun though, most hopped out of the ring smiling.
Monday - work, work and more work, then decorating for Halloween.
Tuesday - Halloween carnival for the littlest school, Montessouri is the way to learn. They had a half day of games, lollies, and running amuke in the school playground. I watched littlies hunt and paint mini pumpkins. I encouraged the paint smock. Spin it red haired mumma. "You'll get your pretty little fairy costume dirty" "You don't want orange paint on spideyman now do you?" yada yada yada. The end of the Halloween festival was a treat. Time to take down all the sticky spiderwebby polyester I'd strung between trees and doorways, find those pumpkins that were stuck just a little too deep, and gracefully try and organize the drippy painted pumpkins.
Wednesday - I am the mother of a 12 year old. It is not possible. But real. I am too thin and too young to have a kid this size. He got a football, the pigskin variety and music lots of music and a skateboard. I need to update the health insurance.
Thursday - Braces. She now looks like she's 12 and she is only 8. I am counting down until they come off. And they are not on my teeth. She does not complain, she is a trooper. Food is going to be interesting.
Friday - The Birthday dinner out. Mexican food. Friends who give the boy a jumper from Texas A&M Uni. He did not take it off for almost a week, and then only whent he temperature rose to 30 degrees Celcius. All the kids compliment how fun the friends are who went to dinner with us. In particular the bloke. I am estatic inside - they are healing and do not believe that all men are cult vermin - we will prevail, we are the best of both hemispheres, Texan and Australian.
Saturday - soccer, soccer, soccer. 4 wins. Everybody happy.
Sunday - Adult old people have a undefeated season. Calls for Margaritas and Mexican food and a photo. All fun except that last bit. I stopped many a man from scoring any goals. So fun, I love to watch their faces fall.
I think I might have a wee bit to go before I heal all the way.
Trunk or Treat. A parking lot filled with cars all parked boot in. Their are games in to be played in the boot. Play the game, collect a lollie. Walk on with a smile. Also brought in for a special treat, an inflated wrestling ring with helmets and a bar with two overinflated marshmallow looking bobbies on the end. To boys of all ages this was the place you go with your mate to see if you can bash the crude out of him - in a friendly way. Not really, the testosterone got going and they just wap each other until they had fallen completely over four times, then they had to trade. All fun though, most hopped out of the ring smiling.
Monday - work, work and more work, then decorating for Halloween.
Tuesday - Halloween carnival for the littlest school, Montessouri is the way to learn. They had a half day of games, lollies, and running amuke in the school playground. I watched littlies hunt and paint mini pumpkins. I encouraged the paint smock. Spin it red haired mumma. "You'll get your pretty little fairy costume dirty" "You don't want orange paint on spideyman now do you?" yada yada yada. The end of the Halloween festival was a treat. Time to take down all the sticky spiderwebby polyester I'd strung between trees and doorways, find those pumpkins that were stuck just a little too deep, and gracefully try and organize the drippy painted pumpkins.
Wednesday - I am the mother of a 12 year old. It is not possible. But real. I am too thin and too young to have a kid this size. He got a football, the pigskin variety and music lots of music and a skateboard. I need to update the health insurance.
Thursday - Braces. She now looks like she's 12 and she is only 8. I am counting down until they come off. And they are not on my teeth. She does not complain, she is a trooper. Food is going to be interesting.
Friday - The Birthday dinner out. Mexican food. Friends who give the boy a jumper from Texas A&M Uni. He did not take it off for almost a week, and then only whent he temperature rose to 30 degrees Celcius. All the kids compliment how fun the friends are who went to dinner with us. In particular the bloke. I am estatic inside - they are healing and do not believe that all men are cult vermin - we will prevail, we are the best of both hemispheres, Texan and Australian.
Saturday - soccer, soccer, soccer. 4 wins. Everybody happy.
Sunday - Adult old people have a undefeated season. Calls for Margaritas and Mexican food and a photo. All fun except that last bit. I stopped many a man from scoring any goals. So fun, I love to watch their faces fall.
I think I might have a wee bit to go before I heal all the way.
30 October 2006
Life Expectancy.
Halloween pumpkins are great.
We slopped off to the pumpkin patch on a frigid day and prowled through the vast array of pumpkins to pick our treasures, one for each of us. Plus a variety of little pumpkins because for starters they are very petite precious little things and we are embracing our first Halloween with vigor.
We acquired pumpkin carving tools, last week soccer training got called due to torrential downpours, having excess energy and stamina, we decided to CARVE. Artists look out. Newbies have arrived.
Pumpkin carving is not a clean sport. In other households it is probably not a sport at all. In ours it is. Seeds flew. Preferably towards the scrap bucket but not necessarily so, the odd seed accidentally flicked at siblings and children. I am not sure how that happened but no one put an eye out so it's alright. We scraped out innerds and scooped out, the hand works best, not so fabulous if you have a strong gag reflex though. People with a strong gag relfex sometimes turn green when scoooping out their pumpkin. People who look green usually feel green inside and it is best to keep your distance, and politely suggest greeny go and lie down until it passes.
We ended the evening with four beauties.
Two happy go lucky and two cheeky bordering on scary. We are not a scary lot so we didn't make it too far that way. One had hands, several had eyebrows, all had smiles of sorts.
Pumpkins are very pleasing to look at when carved.
Not so pleasing after 6 days of erractic weather though. Furry mold abounding with soft pliable sides our little pumpkins were relegated to the bin, no matter how lovely and fun they were nearly a week ago, the tiem has come. We'll carve a big monster this afternoon so that we have one for the big day, the cutie pies they had to go.
27 October 2006
Fall Family Fun Night
Eye opening.
The kids are between 10 and 14 years old, they are in grades 5 and 6.
We arrive, my son runs off for a quick play of handball only they call it four square here before we go into the classroom activities. He joins up with two of his mates from school, they are nice boys even if they all troop through the rooms on a warpath. They joke with the teachers they like and avoid those that are not their favourites. I see the ativities they do gleefully, they are only 11, still only children really, just stuck in bodies that are big.
I stand back and watch, he makes eyes at the girl he likes, doesn't talk to her just smiles. Innocent and young. It is sweet and gives me no pause.
Just as we decide to depart for home and dinner he introduces me to another mate, one he has not run the halls with this evening, but one he is nice to during the day, he is nice to everybody it is not unusual, he always has been kind-hearted. During the first couple of weeks of school he mentioned this boy. Mum he would say, you know A he's BIG. And BIG he is. We talked then about how lots of people here are alot bigger, heavier than what we have seen regularly back in OZ, and BIG might be an ok non-judgemental way to describe it. So a few weeks ago my son tells me he thinks his friend A might have been held back once or maybe twice, he wasn't sure, but he's BIG mum. Tonight it is clear to me what he meant. The boy is a boy no more. I am not certain how many times he was held back, it is more than once, that does not matter, he is quite possibly close to 15 yrs old. I have no issues with that at all, I hope the learning comes easier as time goes on for him. I am all for children learning and getting a good education however it needs to happen.
It gives me pause when my son introduces me to you though and as you shake my hand you cut your eyes away. The pain that is there is obvious. I hope that my child can be an encouragement without being sucked into making unwise choices. I am reminded that we have been through quite a bit of crap in the last several years, but we must be doing something right, my son treats those around him with fun and friendship, it can't be too bad.
___________________________________________________________________
Marley & Me is a great little nugget of a book.
I am currently without something to read.
Bills do not count. Something to read just for fun is necessary.
I must get onto that.
The kids are between 10 and 14 years old, they are in grades 5 and 6.
We arrive, my son runs off for a quick play of handball only they call it four square here before we go into the classroom activities. He joins up with two of his mates from school, they are nice boys even if they all troop through the rooms on a warpath. They joke with the teachers they like and avoid those that are not their favourites. I see the ativities they do gleefully, they are only 11, still only children really, just stuck in bodies that are big.
I stand back and watch, he makes eyes at the girl he likes, doesn't talk to her just smiles. Innocent and young. It is sweet and gives me no pause.
Just as we decide to depart for home and dinner he introduces me to another mate, one he has not run the halls with this evening, but one he is nice to during the day, he is nice to everybody it is not unusual, he always has been kind-hearted. During the first couple of weeks of school he mentioned this boy. Mum he would say, you know A he's BIG. And BIG he is. We talked then about how lots of people here are alot bigger, heavier than what we have seen regularly back in OZ, and BIG might be an ok non-judgemental way to describe it. So a few weeks ago my son tells me he thinks his friend A might have been held back once or maybe twice, he wasn't sure, but he's BIG mum. Tonight it is clear to me what he meant. The boy is a boy no more. I am not certain how many times he was held back, it is more than once, that does not matter, he is quite possibly close to 15 yrs old. I have no issues with that at all, I hope the learning comes easier as time goes on for him. I am all for children learning and getting a good education however it needs to happen.
It gives me pause when my son introduces me to you though and as you shake my hand you cut your eyes away. The pain that is there is obvious. I hope that my child can be an encouragement without being sucked into making unwise choices. I am reminded that we have been through quite a bit of crap in the last several years, but we must be doing something right, my son treats those around him with fun and friendship, it can't be too bad.
___________________________________________________________________
Marley & Me is a great little nugget of a book.
I am currently without something to read.
Bills do not count. Something to read just for fun is necessary.
I must get onto that.
26 October 2006
Picking up a little bit of ugly.
So yesterday I picked up my youngest and headed to the orthodontist.
I have never taken a class in dental anatomy, however, I am fairly certain that I could have found an itty bitty piece of plastic and stuffed it between her last two molars. I might have even been able to come up with some royal blue plastic to stuff in there. I didn't though.
And lucky because then I would have robbed said child of the chance to perform the human Pez dispenser trick, you know the flip top head?
____________________________________________________________________
We went shoe shopping, well because that is what sunny Tuesday afternoons were made for and I am bringing my baby up right. I rang my mum on the way to check on a couple flight coupons she is picking up for me, we chatted, it was nice, she's working but happy with that. Finished the call, we went into the shop, we hunted, tried on funny shoes, pretty shoes, practical shoes and enormously high heels, a girl has to learn just how it is done.
Halfway up the athletic shoe aisle my phone rang.
It was mum. And went something like this...
mum hi honey!
(cheery voice I have come to recognize over the years as signalling a bomb alert)
me hi mum.
mum well I haven't told you yet, because I know you don't approve of what I do sometimes ...
me mum you are a grownup and make your own choices, my not necessarily making the same choice as you is not judgement on what you do or don't do it is just us being different
mum so I told your sister already, so I need to tell you too. look I want you to know I that I have met somebody, his name is Phil, Phillip, Phil, and he's really nice and he treats me like a princess, and he is really sweet and he's retired and 10yrs older than me. So he doesn't work anymore.
(this is the bit where I am thinking that suddenly my mum has morphed into a teenager again)
me that's nice mum, I am glad you are happy, thanks for telling me.
mum we think we might come up and visit this week...
We talked for a bit longer, she revisited the retired bit, and how lovely he is to her, told me where he lives, etc. I thanked her again for telling me.
Now I am a glass half full kind of girl. I prefer to look at the positives. I am positive that at present my mum is very happy. She is very happy to merrily give her heart away. I understand, it's cold outside, it is nice to have someone to cuddle up to and chat with about life and all. I just think that it might be a good idea to maybe step back and not approach dating at mach speed, where you end up with his and her towels, and your heart broken after just a little bit. I hope he is nice and sweet and kind and fun. I wish for the best. I will listen as my mum twitters like a 14 yr old about how great every thing is, and if it works for the long run - fabulous, and if not I pick up the pieces again as the drama unfolds if another man breaks her heart. At least this time I am in the right hemisphere. There's a glass half full for you.
The shoe shop sells ugly. They are clogs with holes in them made out of foam. They are tangerine orange. I bought them so I can photograph her and bring the picture out at her 21st. Crocs. yippie.
I have never taken a class in dental anatomy, however, I am fairly certain that I could have found an itty bitty piece of plastic and stuffed it between her last two molars. I might have even been able to come up with some royal blue plastic to stuff in there. I didn't though.
And lucky because then I would have robbed said child of the chance to perform the human Pez dispenser trick, you know the flip top head?
____________________________________________________________________
We went shoe shopping, well because that is what sunny Tuesday afternoons were made for and I am bringing my baby up right. I rang my mum on the way to check on a couple flight coupons she is picking up for me, we chatted, it was nice, she's working but happy with that. Finished the call, we went into the shop, we hunted, tried on funny shoes, pretty shoes, practical shoes and enormously high heels, a girl has to learn just how it is done.
Halfway up the athletic shoe aisle my phone rang.
It was mum. And went something like this...
mum hi honey!
(cheery voice I have come to recognize over the years as signalling a bomb alert)
me hi mum.
mum well I haven't told you yet, because I know you don't approve of what I do sometimes ...
me mum you are a grownup and make your own choices, my not necessarily making the same choice as you is not judgement on what you do or don't do it is just us being different
mum so I told your sister already, so I need to tell you too. look I want you to know I that I have met somebody, his name is Phil, Phillip, Phil, and he's really nice and he treats me like a princess, and he is really sweet and he's retired and 10yrs older than me. So he doesn't work anymore.
(this is the bit where I am thinking that suddenly my mum has morphed into a teenager again)
me that's nice mum, I am glad you are happy, thanks for telling me.
mum we think we might come up and visit this week...
We talked for a bit longer, she revisited the retired bit, and how lovely he is to her, told me where he lives, etc. I thanked her again for telling me.
Now I am a glass half full kind of girl. I prefer to look at the positives. I am positive that at present my mum is very happy. She is very happy to merrily give her heart away. I understand, it's cold outside, it is nice to have someone to cuddle up to and chat with about life and all. I just think that it might be a good idea to maybe step back and not approach dating at mach speed, where you end up with his and her towels, and your heart broken after just a little bit. I hope he is nice and sweet and kind and fun. I wish for the best. I will listen as my mum twitters like a 14 yr old about how great every thing is, and if it works for the long run - fabulous, and if not I pick up the pieces again as the drama unfolds if another man breaks her heart. At least this time I am in the right hemisphere. There's a glass half full for you.
The shoe shop sells ugly. They are clogs with holes in them made out of foam. They are tangerine orange. I bought them so I can photograph her and bring the picture out at her 21st. Crocs. yippie.
23 October 2006
Rings just don't shine.
Nice weekend.
COLD weather. This morning it was nine degrees C. Brrr. And blowing a gale. I know because our handy little inside/outside thermometre told me so. Thank you maroonedinaustin. So I added a jumper as I walked out the door to soccer. I should have added thermal underwear, a beanie, gloves, and those handwarmer thingys you get when you're skiing. Safe to say while my speech acclimated to australian life so too did my internal thermometre. Popsicle girl observes soccer match. Shaking like a leaf has new meaning for me. And I now long for an espresso machine with verve.
______________________________________________________________________
He said I was hot.
He meant it as a compliment. It was not one. Not that I have issues about how I look. I don't. I'm firm where I need to be and soft where I should be. I don't have extra weight hanging out, any that I had vacated during the divorce. I don't think I am hot, but I am damn sure not bad. When a married guy tells you that though, not good. I am offended on so many levels. Not the least of which is I just don't go there, you are married, hit the road jack, I will not even respond to your quasicompliment. The next time I see you though, should you make the same type of comments again, I hope you are ready, you'll be that little bug that unfortunately flew in front of the windshield when the car was going 80mph.
And I will still be hot very far away from you.
COLD weather. This morning it was nine degrees C. Brrr. And blowing a gale. I know because our handy little inside/outside thermometre told me so. Thank you maroonedinaustin. So I added a jumper as I walked out the door to soccer. I should have added thermal underwear, a beanie, gloves, and those handwarmer thingys you get when you're skiing. Safe to say while my speech acclimated to australian life so too did my internal thermometre. Popsicle girl observes soccer match. Shaking like a leaf has new meaning for me. And I now long for an espresso machine with verve.
______________________________________________________________________
He said I was hot.
He meant it as a compliment. It was not one. Not that I have issues about how I look. I don't. I'm firm where I need to be and soft where I should be. I don't have extra weight hanging out, any that I had vacated during the divorce. I don't think I am hot, but I am damn sure not bad. When a married guy tells you that though, not good. I am offended on so many levels. Not the least of which is I just don't go there, you are married, hit the road jack, I will not even respond to your quasicompliment. The next time I see you though, should you make the same type of comments again, I hope you are ready, you'll be that little bug that unfortunately flew in front of the windshield when the car was going 80mph.
And I will still be hot very far away from you.
20 October 2006
Silence in the car.
We saw this sign on the way to one of the three schools I drop my kids at. We sat silent. Not my favourite thing about America.
19 October 2006
Just bites.
you wake up. well rested.
ever so pleasant.
for two seconds, then it is like that poor unfortunate cat who fell in vast sums of water. Leaping, diagruntled, disturbed and definately pissed away from the offending substance.
oversleeping. grr.
ever so pleasant.
for two seconds, then it is like that poor unfortunate cat who fell in vast sums of water. Leaping, diagruntled, disturbed and definately pissed away from the offending substance.
oversleeping. grr.
17 October 2006
Perspective.
Really very few things tick me off. Unfortunately this week I have run into several right smack in a row.
For starters any government run offices are hard wired to be difficult. It is in there nature. It is how they make extra money for the politicians to eat lunch on. I have discovered in my great home state that I might well have to remove and disect my fourth rib in order to get my drivers license. You have to appear in person at the local DPS office stand in the laneway for an inordinate amount of time before you get to speak with the woman who could quite possibly be entombed as a relic of days gone by. Yes folks the 80's are far far behind us, however, here we have a finely preserved specimin from that era. She sports 'helmet hair' and blue eye shadow, tornados might very well come through this area occassionally, but that hair it is not going to budge. Her demeanor is a beauty. I am not sure if the DPS sent her to special training days or if that is her natural inclination, she is not helpful and certainly has no time for those not born and raised here. The poor little asian lady in front of me in, she made her cry. So I think I might have been predisposed to dislike her, that is just not kosher. Asians are lovely, and the food they've brought to this great state is less likely to cause you to become so engorged as to resemble a beached walrus. With helmet hair.
The second is more a personal issue. A lady who child is my age. I have known her a long time. We are not close. At one time I valued her input. That time is now gone. In her opinion it is unwise for me to ever remarry, you know because my situation was different, and I had children, she says with a snarl to her lip that looks as if she has just spotted a dog dropping on her persian rug. I don't desire to remarry today or tomorrow or next week. And the idea of being legally bound is enough to cause me to eye that rum bottle with a pirates lusty longing. But you know having someone tell me I should not makes me want to run out on a mad flurry of dates. Until she has walked around in my bare feet I am certain she can keep those little undesirables to herself.
Third. And last at least for today. Would it kill people to not waste so much damn stuff. Why people, and mostly I am only seeing Americans at present, so why Americans NEED ever so very much stuff. Plastic water bottles by the slab, half drunk and then tossed. Eight million gallons of fizzy drink in their bottles or worse cans. Food enough for small immigrant armies in foreign third world countries, tossed out because Americans can't eat that much but they have a bloody right to be served that much food for $7.95 and more and more and more. No wonder a huge chunk of the population are enourmous, they eat all that food and then sit round on their bums contimplating all their 'rights'. Ick. Self-absorbtion ticks me off.
I said it was the last one, but really it wasn't. People who wear bras that are tooo small!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For everybody elses sake, please get some proper fitting gear, those girls hanging out everywhere, nobody wants to see that.
For starters any government run offices are hard wired to be difficult. It is in there nature. It is how they make extra money for the politicians to eat lunch on. I have discovered in my great home state that I might well have to remove and disect my fourth rib in order to get my drivers license. You have to appear in person at the local DPS office stand in the laneway for an inordinate amount of time before you get to speak with the woman who could quite possibly be entombed as a relic of days gone by. Yes folks the 80's are far far behind us, however, here we have a finely preserved specimin from that era. She sports 'helmet hair' and blue eye shadow, tornados might very well come through this area occassionally, but that hair it is not going to budge. Her demeanor is a beauty. I am not sure if the DPS sent her to special training days or if that is her natural inclination, she is not helpful and certainly has no time for those not born and raised here. The poor little asian lady in front of me in, she made her cry. So I think I might have been predisposed to dislike her, that is just not kosher. Asians are lovely, and the food they've brought to this great state is less likely to cause you to become so engorged as to resemble a beached walrus. With helmet hair.
The second is more a personal issue. A lady who child is my age. I have known her a long time. We are not close. At one time I valued her input. That time is now gone. In her opinion it is unwise for me to ever remarry, you know because my situation was different, and I had children, she says with a snarl to her lip that looks as if she has just spotted a dog dropping on her persian rug. I don't desire to remarry today or tomorrow or next week. And the idea of being legally bound is enough to cause me to eye that rum bottle with a pirates lusty longing. But you know having someone tell me I should not makes me want to run out on a mad flurry of dates. Until she has walked around in my bare feet I am certain she can keep those little undesirables to herself.
Third. And last at least for today. Would it kill people to not waste so much damn stuff. Why people, and mostly I am only seeing Americans at present, so why Americans NEED ever so very much stuff. Plastic water bottles by the slab, half drunk and then tossed. Eight million gallons of fizzy drink in their bottles or worse cans. Food enough for small immigrant armies in foreign third world countries, tossed out because Americans can't eat that much but they have a bloody right to be served that much food for $7.95 and more and more and more. No wonder a huge chunk of the population are enourmous, they eat all that food and then sit round on their bums contimplating all their 'rights'. Ick. Self-absorbtion ticks me off.
I said it was the last one, but really it wasn't. People who wear bras that are tooo small!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
For everybody elses sake, please get some proper fitting gear, those girls hanging out everywhere, nobody wants to see that.
14 October 2006
A little too much non-drowsy ...
1:31 am awake.
1:32 check the kids, maybe that's why I woke up
1:33 look outside into the inky blackness
1:34 trip over a box on my way back to bed
1:35 - 2:02 flopping around waiting for sleep to return
2:03 wash a load of laundry, I'm WIDE awake may as well be productive
2:05 nine hundred channels and nothing to watch.
2:07 Meerkat Watch, it was the best of the options, two episodes and then one of This Old House
3:31 back to bed to sleep
This afternoon will be a challenge of my patience, maybe a nap would be good.
1:32 check the kids, maybe that's why I woke up
1:33 look outside into the inky blackness
1:34 trip over a box on my way back to bed
1:35 - 2:02 flopping around waiting for sleep to return
2:03 wash a load of laundry, I'm WIDE awake may as well be productive
2:05 nine hundred channels and nothing to watch.
2:07 Meerkat Watch, it was the best of the options, two episodes and then one of This Old House
3:31 back to bed to sleep
This afternoon will be a challenge of my patience, maybe a nap would be good.
08 October 2006
Dreams.
In the build up to a snarky head-throat cold, I have had some doozies.
Worry, stress and fatigue do interesting things to the mind. Not to mention a Sonic size serving of caffiene on a regular basis. For example, Wednesday evening was the one and only appearance of the lifesize sock monkey, he tended to my every whim as we strolled the aisles of H.E.B., tortilla chips, absolutely, 2% milk, right-o, bagel bites, yup. He did no talking, just walked with me and the trolley. Now I don't know where he came from, I have not, as I can recall, seen a sock monkey since I was 4 and never a life size one. Thursday produced icky dreams about moving trucks and bicycles, not with anyone on them, the bikes drove themselves out into the road with out looking and were flattened by the HUGE white truck. Friday seemed somewhat of impending doom. I woke with a start at 3:13 am believing I was escaping from a fire in a white timber two story house. I knew the house was on fire, and yet I went back in to get the dog, a yellow lab. Superheroes always survive, I got out with the dog, and then discovered the house fire was set by the cult people my ex hangs out with. Disturbing but not so much that I didn't go on and have a beautiful day. He ruined enough of my days, he does not get anymore.
After three nights of not so great sleep, my body has finally given in. I woke this morning to 3 soccer matches with four kids, again an extra this time of the girl variety. My waking thought after I realized that aside from the mobile phone ringing somewhere around 2 I slept through the night was that I made it through without any funky dreams. My throat - it screams, my eyes - they scratch, my sinus passages - are full of molten lava.
I have a new chemist bestfriend. My love. Sweet treasure. In six hours and two doses you have made me feel much less deceased. Lovely effervescent health formula in zesty orange. Airborne. Kicking germy butt out of my head cold.
Worry, stress and fatigue do interesting things to the mind. Not to mention a Sonic size serving of caffiene on a regular basis. For example, Wednesday evening was the one and only appearance of the lifesize sock monkey, he tended to my every whim as we strolled the aisles of H.E.B., tortilla chips, absolutely, 2% milk, right-o, bagel bites, yup. He did no talking, just walked with me and the trolley. Now I don't know where he came from, I have not, as I can recall, seen a sock monkey since I was 4 and never a life size one. Thursday produced icky dreams about moving trucks and bicycles, not with anyone on them, the bikes drove themselves out into the road with out looking and were flattened by the HUGE white truck. Friday seemed somewhat of impending doom. I woke with a start at 3:13 am believing I was escaping from a fire in a white timber two story house. I knew the house was on fire, and yet I went back in to get the dog, a yellow lab. Superheroes always survive, I got out with the dog, and then discovered the house fire was set by the cult people my ex hangs out with. Disturbing but not so much that I didn't go on and have a beautiful day. He ruined enough of my days, he does not get anymore.
After three nights of not so great sleep, my body has finally given in. I woke this morning to 3 soccer matches with four kids, again an extra this time of the girl variety. My waking thought after I realized that aside from the mobile phone ringing somewhere around 2 I slept through the night was that I made it through without any funky dreams. My throat - it screams, my eyes - they scratch, my sinus passages - are full of molten lava.
I have a new chemist bestfriend. My love. Sweet treasure. In six hours and two doses you have made me feel much less deceased. Lovely effervescent health formula in zesty orange. Airborne. Kicking germy butt out of my head cold.
04 October 2006
It Should Have Been.
Ok so I bought the new house.
It is fabulous. We moved in, we love it. I have purchased various items of different levels of importance. The trampoline, it's very good for stress relief - really you can not, as an adult, jump on one of those things without laughing, it should be on the bottom level of the food triangle it is so good for you. And beds. and plates and cutlery - the kids they like to eat, shampoo, and conditioner, cat food, a computer, tv, towels.
The FIRST purchase should have been CANDLES and MATCHES to light them with.
We have just come out of the first and hopefully last brown-out, or black-out or whatever they call it. And I can assure you when you arrive home from soccer training with four hungry kids, candles, well they would come in handy. Four kids, I know, I had an extra. It is blacker than anything inside my lovely new home with no lights. The kids had a ball, they bounced on the trampoline, I used the mobile phone to ring to a friend who had electricity, we fed the kids pizza and macaroni, not nutritional but it'll hold them until morning.
We had a beer.
Brown-outs call for one.
It is fabulous. We moved in, we love it. I have purchased various items of different levels of importance. The trampoline, it's very good for stress relief - really you can not, as an adult, jump on one of those things without laughing, it should be on the bottom level of the food triangle it is so good for you. And beds. and plates and cutlery - the kids they like to eat, shampoo, and conditioner, cat food, a computer, tv, towels.
The FIRST purchase should have been CANDLES and MATCHES to light them with.
We have just come out of the first and hopefully last brown-out, or black-out or whatever they call it. And I can assure you when you arrive home from soccer training with four hungry kids, candles, well they would come in handy. Four kids, I know, I had an extra. It is blacker than anything inside my lovely new home with no lights. The kids had a ball, they bounced on the trampoline, I used the mobile phone to ring to a friend who had electricity, we fed the kids pizza and macaroni, not nutritional but it'll hold them until morning.
We had a beer.
Brown-outs call for one.
03 October 2006
Ick.
Three shootings in one week. And people wonder about why guns make us so nervous? Seems fairly straight forward to me.
I ride my bike up the road to meet one of my sons on his way home from school each day. I watch him cross the road with the lollipop lady, and hear him say good afternoon to her, and then we chat all the way home. So today, he waves and smiles, always happy to see me there looking goobey on my bike. He crosses the street, and we turn around to head home. Both of us nearly fall off our bikes. There is a motorbike traffic cop sitting there, and he pointing something. Now our little sheltered Australian minds freaked out. He was only pointing a radar gun at the traffic to see if anybody was speeding in the school zone, but it looked like a gun. He noticed our jump and startled looks and said "It's allll-rIght. It's alll-rIght."
We are sheltered. I am glad. I hope we stay that way. We might have to avoid the tv, where every third ad is for the army or the military of some sort.
Ick.
I ride my bike up the road to meet one of my sons on his way home from school each day. I watch him cross the road with the lollipop lady, and hear him say good afternoon to her, and then we chat all the way home. So today, he waves and smiles, always happy to see me there looking goobey on my bike. He crosses the street, and we turn around to head home. Both of us nearly fall off our bikes. There is a motorbike traffic cop sitting there, and he pointing something. Now our little sheltered Australian minds freaked out. He was only pointing a radar gun at the traffic to see if anybody was speeding in the school zone, but it looked like a gun. He noticed our jump and startled looks and said "It's allll-rIght. It's alll-rIght."
We are sheltered. I am glad. I hope we stay that way. We might have to avoid the tv, where every third ad is for the army or the military of some sort.
Ick.
02 October 2006
The Olgas.
Thought I'd give the picture post a go. I like this one. Reminds me of a happy holiday with a dear friend. Everyone should visit the northern territory with a friend. Camp, it's the best way.
Sore Abs, but it's a good thing.
Sometimes you're going through life and you wonder about how things go. Or I wonder. I meet people, we get on, our kids get on, things just seem to work. 2 years ago I made the decision to stay in Texas for a time, for several reasons, in hopes that my nutter husband might snap out of his cult and choose his family, to give our children a chance to cope with American culture/life, to break from the icky pattern my ex and I had gottenourselves into. I could go on and on, I won't, I prefer to be optimistic and move on with life.
Anyway. I stayed. The trade off for the pitiful munber of tears that I shed on the plane ride from Colorado back to Texas, I am not a big crier, the body evidently chooses to release the stress of your husband leaving and going across the ocean in it's own special way. HIVES. So I drank margaritas and cranberry vodkas with my sister and her husband, over time not all in one night. I soaked up the love of my family that had been missing me for years, my dad, my stepmum, my brothers, aunti's and uncles, and cousins, and grandparents too. They were all civil to Nathan should he happen to ring to yell at me about my wickeness, but they heaped the love on me. My family is cool. We're crazy but at least they were polite to him. No more need be said really.
I moved back to the town we lived when we were first married. I had friends there. I met new friends. Specifically track coach family and UPS family. I knew them for the 4 months before the US Federal court and I came to agreement that myself and the children would return to Australia. They emailed, we sent postcards, the kids all talked about one another, Christmas letters were mailed, the friendships survived the distance. Now we're back. The kids go to school together or play soccer together or both.
We headed to dinner tonight. The Potato Shack. Potatoes and ice cream, sums it up. We had our spuds, the kids ate ice cream and we shared history. We laughed like little mindless children without a care in the world. Yes we all have mortgages and phone bills and insurance, yadayada-yada. But we talked and hoo-hawed. The name Beverley will never be the same for me. I hope I never meet her in real life, I am not sure I could contain myself. As it is my abs are painfully sore from so much laughter.
I am glad.
Good friends are fabulous and I left more than a few behind that I miss dearly in Australia, always happy to add to the pool though.
Anyway. I stayed. The trade off for the pitiful munber of tears that I shed on the plane ride from Colorado back to Texas, I am not a big crier, the body evidently chooses to release the stress of your husband leaving and going across the ocean in it's own special way. HIVES. So I drank margaritas and cranberry vodkas with my sister and her husband, over time not all in one night. I soaked up the love of my family that had been missing me for years, my dad, my stepmum, my brothers, aunti's and uncles, and cousins, and grandparents too. They were all civil to Nathan should he happen to ring to yell at me about my wickeness, but they heaped the love on me. My family is cool. We're crazy but at least they were polite to him. No more need be said really.
I moved back to the town we lived when we were first married. I had friends there. I met new friends. Specifically track coach family and UPS family. I knew them for the 4 months before the US Federal court and I came to agreement that myself and the children would return to Australia. They emailed, we sent postcards, the kids all talked about one another, Christmas letters were mailed, the friendships survived the distance. Now we're back. The kids go to school together or play soccer together or both.
We headed to dinner tonight. The Potato Shack. Potatoes and ice cream, sums it up. We had our spuds, the kids ate ice cream and we shared history. We laughed like little mindless children without a care in the world. Yes we all have mortgages and phone bills and insurance, yadayada-yada. But we talked and hoo-hawed. The name Beverley will never be the same for me. I hope I never meet her in real life, I am not sure I could contain myself. As it is my abs are painfully sore from so much laughter.
I am glad.
Good friends are fabulous and I left more than a few behind that I miss dearly in Australia, always happy to add to the pool though.
29 September 2006
He's bright, he's bored, they're challenged.
The teachers are lovely. One is slightly less lovely than the others and it has nothing to do with appearances. She came to the meeting unprepared, I think this might be a habit.
I was gracious and direct with a bit of sugar to help things along.
The child has straight A's. There are kids that are failing, but not him. Yes he is a bit like the pied-piper of talking, he starts, they follow and then mayhem. I am all for the decrease in talking during class time. I told them, boy and teachers. If the kid completes his work and double checks it and you have not gotten the challenging work out yet, well frankly sounds like a personal problem to me, we are in week seven - crack that challenging work out.
No I have not had him tested. They'd like me to test him. I am not a fan. I get the impression, everybody wants to test their kid. I don't, if he's clever, great, give him more work, make his brain all kind of wrinkled, I don't need to label him in order for the public school system to educate him.
So we both survived the meeting. He was much more subdues this evening, and a little contemplative. That is all I am asking for. He is still a child.
____________________________________________________________________
Things we have learned in our new house.
The neighbours dog has a rubbish gut, she does not like broccoli.
Australian cats are baffled by squirrels. Squirrels will yell at cats regardless of their nationality. No matter how much a cat paws at the window, squirrels will not come over and say hello.
If the dishwasher hose comes disconnected from the rubbish disposal under the sink while the dishwaser is running, there is enough water to mop the entire living areas of the house. This is not the ideal way to mop floors.
Wood laminate floors are very slippy. If you run in your socks and then skid you can make a slide approximately 10-12 ft. Timber doorframes are HARD. If you hit a timber doorframe while performing a slide it is both painful and embarrassing. Hitting a doorframe during a slide does not give you a concussion, but it might feel like one.
Glass jars will break on the concrete floor of the garage even if you are doing a good deed when you drop it.
Burned popcorn does not make the smoke detector go off, toast stuck in the toaster does.
It takes nearly two hours to retrain the electric garage door opener to a new keyless entry remote and a built it car remote. Retraining garage door openers might encourage someone to drink heavily or give them an eye twitch. Or both.
When it is nighttime and all the lights are out, it is good to remember the location of the light you just turned off, NO ambient light filters into the new house.
Cheers.
I was gracious and direct with a bit of sugar to help things along.
The child has straight A's. There are kids that are failing, but not him. Yes he is a bit like the pied-piper of talking, he starts, they follow and then mayhem. I am all for the decrease in talking during class time. I told them, boy and teachers. If the kid completes his work and double checks it and you have not gotten the challenging work out yet, well frankly sounds like a personal problem to me, we are in week seven - crack that challenging work out.
No I have not had him tested. They'd like me to test him. I am not a fan. I get the impression, everybody wants to test their kid. I don't, if he's clever, great, give him more work, make his brain all kind of wrinkled, I don't need to label him in order for the public school system to educate him.
So we both survived the meeting. He was much more subdues this evening, and a little contemplative. That is all I am asking for. He is still a child.
____________________________________________________________________
Things we have learned in our new house.
The neighbours dog has a rubbish gut, she does not like broccoli.
Australian cats are baffled by squirrels. Squirrels will yell at cats regardless of their nationality. No matter how much a cat paws at the window, squirrels will not come over and say hello.
If the dishwasher hose comes disconnected from the rubbish disposal under the sink while the dishwaser is running, there is enough water to mop the entire living areas of the house. This is not the ideal way to mop floors.
Wood laminate floors are very slippy. If you run in your socks and then skid you can make a slide approximately 10-12 ft. Timber doorframes are HARD. If you hit a timber doorframe while performing a slide it is both painful and embarrassing. Hitting a doorframe during a slide does not give you a concussion, but it might feel like one.
Glass jars will break on the concrete floor of the garage even if you are doing a good deed when you drop it.
Burned popcorn does not make the smoke detector go off, toast stuck in the toaster does.
It takes nearly two hours to retrain the electric garage door opener to a new keyless entry remote and a built it car remote. Retraining garage door openers might encourage someone to drink heavily or give them an eye twitch. Or both.
When it is nighttime and all the lights are out, it is good to remember the location of the light you just turned off, NO ambient light filters into the new house.
Cheers.
27 September 2006
morning surliness.
what is so difficult about greeting the day?
Wake up, feed the belly - it can't possibly be the honey nut cheerios that are making you crabby, there's nothing in them. Does the task of making your bed so drain you that you no longer have the energy to be kind to those around you or is the cleaning of your teeth that sent you over the edge? Possibly I think it was the gentle reminder that it would be best for YOU in the long run if you were to try and talk slightly less during class each day, even if said class is boooooring. I can remind you for many reasons, the topmost being I know and you do not, just how much you are talking in class each day. For starters, you do not think about it, you are 11, it is not on the radar, it is not shaped like a ball so it does not thrill your mind to ponder it. I have spies, as well as being all knowing with regard to your life, I chat with those whom attend the educational institution with you and tactfully inquire without their knowledge about your behavior. Hey when you are a single mum you have to be clever, I am outnumbered. The other reason for the reminder and the inquiry... I know I have a meeting scheduled for Thursday with your science instructor, at her request. She thinks you talk tooo much. You think she is dull as a fence post out in the middle of the bush, I know and after the parent 'Meet the Teachers' night in the second week of school, I agree with you. So I will meet with the queeniness of dulliness, and you WILL have to chat less in class, and I will have to graciously remind said teacher that Grade 6 science is the year where you start doing really cool experiments and practical learning is much better than Charlie Brown's droning teacher. All will be well.
So wake up, love the new day, it is full of adventures yet had!
Wake up, feed the belly - it can't possibly be the honey nut cheerios that are making you crabby, there's nothing in them. Does the task of making your bed so drain you that you no longer have the energy to be kind to those around you or is the cleaning of your teeth that sent you over the edge? Possibly I think it was the gentle reminder that it would be best for YOU in the long run if you were to try and talk slightly less during class each day, even if said class is boooooring. I can remind you for many reasons, the topmost being I know and you do not, just how much you are talking in class each day. For starters, you do not think about it, you are 11, it is not on the radar, it is not shaped like a ball so it does not thrill your mind to ponder it. I have spies, as well as being all knowing with regard to your life, I chat with those whom attend the educational institution with you and tactfully inquire without their knowledge about your behavior. Hey when you are a single mum you have to be clever, I am outnumbered. The other reason for the reminder and the inquiry... I know I have a meeting scheduled for Thursday with your science instructor, at her request. She thinks you talk tooo much. You think she is dull as a fence post out in the middle of the bush, I know and after the parent 'Meet the Teachers' night in the second week of school, I agree with you. So I will meet with the queeniness of dulliness, and you WILL have to chat less in class, and I will have to graciously remind said teacher that Grade 6 science is the year where you start doing really cool experiments and practical learning is much better than Charlie Brown's droning teacher. All will be well.
So wake up, love the new day, it is full of adventures yet had!
22 September 2006
At times it makes me crazy.
I whinge about it. They break all the time. It is tired and crabby like a disfunctional teenager, occassionally just deciding on a whim life is just too hard and it willfully, or so it seems, chooses not to function properly. It runs too slow, misplaces important items -never to return them, manipulates important files so that they can never be sent in any format, and periodically just shuts down whether in the middle of something or not.
But really, secretly, I LOVE IT.
My computer. I NEVER ever could have survived an international move without it. Much less two.
Tonight modern technology has once again brought that goofy happy grin to my face. After, yes it has been two months, without our own computer with a broadband connection, we are once again IN THE BUILDING! Woowaw. I feel I should run and pop my pretty heels on just to type. The computer arrived via UPS, the poor cable guy came over yesterday to drop a new line in -yes I want the broadband on that wall- it was less than perfect, he ended up calling two of his mates to come a help him. I like the texturing on the wall, honestly I had no idea it would be so difficult. So he spent a large portion of the 4 hours he was here in the attic. Truely not my fault, no matter which wall I wanted the broadband on, he was going to be in the attic. Cableguy also delivered my cable connection - we now have soccer. Woo-hoo! The boys have watched part of two English Premiership matches today alone, they also attended school and did their homework, chatted online and attended soccer training. So last night I installed the software so we could chat with folks, and then I felt I must test it out and make sure it was working alright - you know just so the kids wouldn't get frustrated when they tried to talk to their mates today. I was testing it out til way on up in the morning ... it was a decent hour in Australia, unfortunately that is not the time zone we're living in, so I was very tired today at work, and at the shops. They say never buy groceries on an empty stomach, I think I might ammend that for our family.... never shop on a tired brain. I think we might just be eating waffles, risotto and fruit for the rest of this week. I have no idea what ended up in the trolley. Jam I think, you can put it with lots of stuff and make a meal right?
So anyway. Technology makes me happy. I am exhausted, however, tonight, due to modern advances, I clicked a button on the msn chat, and talked with my English friend who lives in Australia for free. A little Creative microphone& webcam, Dell's lovely shiny silver speakers that arrived with a woofer (who knew?) And it sounded like we were just right there beside each other. I could close my eyes and pretend we were going for our Friday walk through Toohey forest, and talking over the week's happenings and life and what was thrown at us that week.
Once again I am reminded that while sometimes I whinge and grump and try and give my cranky away over the blasted computer, today it has made me smile a little goofy for quite a little bit.
But really, secretly, I LOVE IT.
My computer. I NEVER ever could have survived an international move without it. Much less two.
Tonight modern technology has once again brought that goofy happy grin to my face. After, yes it has been two months, without our own computer with a broadband connection, we are once again IN THE BUILDING! Woowaw. I feel I should run and pop my pretty heels on just to type. The computer arrived via UPS, the poor cable guy came over yesterday to drop a new line in -yes I want the broadband on that wall- it was less than perfect, he ended up calling two of his mates to come a help him. I like the texturing on the wall, honestly I had no idea it would be so difficult. So he spent a large portion of the 4 hours he was here in the attic. Truely not my fault, no matter which wall I wanted the broadband on, he was going to be in the attic. Cableguy also delivered my cable connection - we now have soccer. Woo-hoo! The boys have watched part of two English Premiership matches today alone, they also attended school and did their homework, chatted online and attended soccer training. So last night I installed the software so we could chat with folks, and then I felt I must test it out and make sure it was working alright - you know just so the kids wouldn't get frustrated when they tried to talk to their mates today. I was testing it out til way on up in the morning ... it was a decent hour in Australia, unfortunately that is not the time zone we're living in, so I was very tired today at work, and at the shops. They say never buy groceries on an empty stomach, I think I might ammend that for our family.... never shop on a tired brain. I think we might just be eating waffles, risotto and fruit for the rest of this week. I have no idea what ended up in the trolley. Jam I think, you can put it with lots of stuff and make a meal right?
So anyway. Technology makes me happy. I am exhausted, however, tonight, due to modern advances, I clicked a button on the msn chat, and talked with my English friend who lives in Australia for free. A little Creative microphone& webcam, Dell's lovely shiny silver speakers that arrived with a woofer (who knew?) And it sounded like we were just right there beside each other. I could close my eyes and pretend we were going for our Friday walk through Toohey forest, and talking over the week's happenings and life and what was thrown at us that week.
Once again I am reminded that while sometimes I whinge and grump and try and give my cranky away over the blasted computer, today it has made me smile a little goofy for quite a little bit.
08 September 2006
Why the bloddy trigger trombone?!
Hundreds of years people have been getting by just fine.
But not now.
NOW the collective of band directors in our new'home' town have decided it'd be so much better for students to learn on the trigger trombone. No mentionof the fact that they are more expensive when they tell you that your son makes a lovely sound out of the trombone, ok so they didn't say "lovely" but my still australian ears heard it that way. Everyone else on the planet seems to struggle through learning on the regular old slide trombone. That a poor child should have to slide that brass all the WAY out to hit the proper notes, who knew it could damage them so?
My thoughts.
I never thought I'd be so thankful for Ebay.
I am liking purchasing the trigger trombone for the cost of renting one for 9 months, now if I can just convince the child he only needs to walk down to the creek behind our new house to practice it each day....
____________________________________________________________________
The spending spree continues.
Last Monday I bought a car. Paid in full. Insurance and all.
Last night I bought a desk top computer to go in the house that I bought today.
Tonight I bought two beds to go in the house so we have places to sleep tomorrow night.
We move in on Saturday, I am so excited. I might pop. I can't though, it'd muck up the little creek behind the house. Bites worrying about the environment.
____________________________________________________________________
I pick our cats up from the arctic circle of my mum's house on saturday, hopefully they will thaw out by Halloween.
But not now.
NOW the collective of band directors in our new'home' town have decided it'd be so much better for students to learn on the trigger trombone. No mentionof the fact that they are more expensive when they tell you that your son makes a lovely sound out of the trombone, ok so they didn't say "lovely" but my still australian ears heard it that way. Everyone else on the planet seems to struggle through learning on the regular old slide trombone. That a poor child should have to slide that brass all the WAY out to hit the proper notes, who knew it could damage them so?
My thoughts.
I never thought I'd be so thankful for Ebay.
I am liking purchasing the trigger trombone for the cost of renting one for 9 months, now if I can just convince the child he only needs to walk down to the creek behind our new house to practice it each day....
____________________________________________________________________
The spending spree continues.
Last Monday I bought a car. Paid in full. Insurance and all.
Last night I bought a desk top computer to go in the house that I bought today.
Tonight I bought two beds to go in the house so we have places to sleep tomorrow night.
We move in on Saturday, I am so excited. I might pop. I can't though, it'd muck up the little creek behind the house. Bites worrying about the environment.
____________________________________________________________________
I pick our cats up from the arctic circle of my mum's house on saturday, hopefully they will thaw out by Halloween.
29 August 2006
Leaky Eyes and Retail Therapy
Well.
The year and a bit of court proceedings in two countries did not do it.
Finding out my husband wanted to divorce me a year and before he began the court proceedings did not do it.
Packing my life into 35 boxes and several rolled paper packages and sending it all off on a ship did not do it.
Living with friends and their children and my children and being carless and homeless and slightly stressed did it. My eyes they leak. At least that is what I told my children repeatedly this morning before we took them to school. I could not take it anymore. Living in someone elses home and not having a vehicle tipped me over the edge. I cried my way through the lunch prep, breakfast routine and school drop off. My oldest did point out to me that my eyes were not leaky, I was crying and he'd really like to know why. He was on a warpath. My middle opted to cry with me, which only made the leaking worse. My youngest chose to ignore the leaking altogether, the leaking was occuring within the first ten minutes of her waking to begin with, and therefore falls into the catagory of NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENING-mornings are hideous enough, why make it worse by acknowledging the leaky problem?
I decided to take back some of my independence. I can not control the ducts in my eyes but I can control just how much I pay for a used car. I knew what I wanted. I had researched. The used car dealer had no idea I had learned all I have ever known about negotiations from my experiences in mediation with my ex-husband and his slimy lawyer, that and my dear friend Dr. Fiona who told me prior to the mediation to channel the smiling assassin. Ta for that one Fiona, now it has come in handy twice. I wanted the car. I needed the car. My son has a soccer tournament 2 and a half hours drive from here this weekend. White is my favourite color for a car. I really like Honda, I think they run forever. I did not really want the car that was down the road that I had driven after looking at the white one. All information that I knew that I chose not to share with the used car guy. I gave him my offer, I looked him in the eye, I smiled, and I waited. I am actually quite comfortable with silence, I have 3 children silence is rare, embrace it, savor, and enjoy. So I did. He left the room. He came back. I smiled. he talked about stuff, you know, taxes, title and other fees. I gave him my offer, I looked him in the eye and I smiled. I got my price, my warranty, and same day - my white car.
I do not suggest repairing leaky eyes with retail therapy, but it worked for me today.
Next time, it's Half Price Books for me,
and I might just stick to buying books for my kids.
The year and a bit of court proceedings in two countries did not do it.
Finding out my husband wanted to divorce me a year and before he began the court proceedings did not do it.
Packing my life into 35 boxes and several rolled paper packages and sending it all off on a ship did not do it.
Living with friends and their children and my children and being carless and homeless and slightly stressed did it. My eyes they leak. At least that is what I told my children repeatedly this morning before we took them to school. I could not take it anymore. Living in someone elses home and not having a vehicle tipped me over the edge. I cried my way through the lunch prep, breakfast routine and school drop off. My oldest did point out to me that my eyes were not leaky, I was crying and he'd really like to know why. He was on a warpath. My middle opted to cry with me, which only made the leaking worse. My youngest chose to ignore the leaking altogether, the leaking was occuring within the first ten minutes of her waking to begin with, and therefore falls into the catagory of NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENING-mornings are hideous enough, why make it worse by acknowledging the leaky problem?
I decided to take back some of my independence. I can not control the ducts in my eyes but I can control just how much I pay for a used car. I knew what I wanted. I had researched. The used car dealer had no idea I had learned all I have ever known about negotiations from my experiences in mediation with my ex-husband and his slimy lawyer, that and my dear friend Dr. Fiona who told me prior to the mediation to channel the smiling assassin. Ta for that one Fiona, now it has come in handy twice. I wanted the car. I needed the car. My son has a soccer tournament 2 and a half hours drive from here this weekend. White is my favourite color for a car. I really like Honda, I think they run forever. I did not really want the car that was down the road that I had driven after looking at the white one. All information that I knew that I chose not to share with the used car guy. I gave him my offer, I looked him in the eye, I smiled, and I waited. I am actually quite comfortable with silence, I have 3 children silence is rare, embrace it, savor, and enjoy. So I did. He left the room. He came back. I smiled. he talked about stuff, you know, taxes, title and other fees. I gave him my offer, I looked him in the eye and I smiled. I got my price, my warranty, and same day - my white car.
I do not suggest repairing leaky eyes with retail therapy, but it worked for me today.
Next time, it's Half Price Books for me,
and I might just stick to buying books for my kids.
26 August 2006
Lightening Bugs and Margaritas
I took the dreaded jack russell who has a napoleonic view of the world for another walk. We are walking alot lately. He needs the exercise to tame that attitude and settle him a bit for his indoor life. I need the endorphines that generate from the exercise after looking after six kids, and I need the silence of walking in a quiet neighbourhood. While we walk I am retraining the dog-who-thinks-he-rules-the-planet, one of the nieghbours dog, a beautifully natured lab, has in the past had issue with the jack russell trying to overpower her. It has been interesting reminding little napoleon that walking is a much nicer outing when he sits and watches as beautiful lab walks by rather than morphing into a tyrannt, that his overindulgent owner has let him get away with previously.
So we walk.
A couple nights ago we walked and on the way home, I spotted Lightening BUGS!
The bugs brought to mind a sweet time in my childhood. Before my mum married my stepfather, my sister and I used to roam free as little birds, as a parent I find my mum's hands-off laizefaire attitude to childrearing slightly scary, but as a little urchin I LOVED it. I wandered the neighbourhood completely independent of adult input, climbing to my hearts content, and running around with the other urchins in the neighbourhood, occassionally I had to tolerate my sister's input but that too was rare, we came to an understanding quite young in our life "she who tattles -SUFFERS!" It worked for us. She ran and got me an icepack, an ice cream sandwich and a neighbour when I got partially impalled on a tree. True sisterly love. The lightening bugs brought it all back.
I did not see lightening bugs in Australia.
I realize now that I missed them.
___________________________________________________________________
Post walk and budget talks with my friends that I am staying with I caught up with a friend in town. She had blown in to rapid fire advertise all over town for her upcoming shin-dig. We met up, and parked ourselves at a cute little Mexican cantina look-alike, to talk life over Margaritas and chips and queso. Life is ever so sweet. Good friends are precious, and friends who have seen you through years of stuff in life are a commodity that can not be measured. Nice to see the town I currently live in and have chosen to raise my babies in, through another's eyes. Eyes that like mine like to see the good all around us. Optimism is fabulous and catching.
___________________________________________________________________
The Texas A&M women's soccer team dominated Uni of North Carolina. I took the kids to see the girls play last night. We parked ourselves with some friends and some of their friends in amongst the Uni students to yell our team to victory. UNC is ranked 4th, we are 9th. They were favourites. They were confident. 8,204 fans made sure we held that in check for them. Two halves passed with nil all. The first period of overtime passed still nil all. The Aggies had controlled the game each time they got the ball, quite regularlly stealing the ball to take a shot at goal. The second overtime period was drawing to a close, it was 10:28, the girls won the ball at halfway, sent it up, showed some grand skills and then rocketed a goal home with 2 minutes left on the clock. The stadium went bananas. It was loud and ruckus. My babies and I love it.
___________________________________________________________________
I don't know why I worry.
But I do.
On the way home from the match, my oldest informed me that a girl asked him out today.
I visualised my favourite beach and calmly inquired what his response to that was, I get points somewhere for that.
He said "um, that's nice but no thank you." and then he added for my benefit, "what was she thinking mum? I'm way too young to date."
Bless you sweet innocent little Australian boy!
I might need a rum though.
So we walk.
A couple nights ago we walked and on the way home, I spotted Lightening BUGS!
The bugs brought to mind a sweet time in my childhood. Before my mum married my stepfather, my sister and I used to roam free as little birds, as a parent I find my mum's hands-off laizefaire attitude to childrearing slightly scary, but as a little urchin I LOVED it. I wandered the neighbourhood completely independent of adult input, climbing to my hearts content, and running around with the other urchins in the neighbourhood, occassionally I had to tolerate my sister's input but that too was rare, we came to an understanding quite young in our life "she who tattles -SUFFERS!" It worked for us. She ran and got me an icepack, an ice cream sandwich and a neighbour when I got partially impalled on a tree. True sisterly love. The lightening bugs brought it all back.
I did not see lightening bugs in Australia.
I realize now that I missed them.
___________________________________________________________________
Post walk and budget talks with my friends that I am staying with I caught up with a friend in town. She had blown in to rapid fire advertise all over town for her upcoming shin-dig. We met up, and parked ourselves at a cute little Mexican cantina look-alike, to talk life over Margaritas and chips and queso. Life is ever so sweet. Good friends are precious, and friends who have seen you through years of stuff in life are a commodity that can not be measured. Nice to see the town I currently live in and have chosen to raise my babies in, through another's eyes. Eyes that like mine like to see the good all around us. Optimism is fabulous and catching.
___________________________________________________________________
The Texas A&M women's soccer team dominated Uni of North Carolina. I took the kids to see the girls play last night. We parked ourselves with some friends and some of their friends in amongst the Uni students to yell our team to victory. UNC is ranked 4th, we are 9th. They were favourites. They were confident. 8,204 fans made sure we held that in check for them. Two halves passed with nil all. The first period of overtime passed still nil all. The Aggies had controlled the game each time they got the ball, quite regularlly stealing the ball to take a shot at goal. The second overtime period was drawing to a close, it was 10:28, the girls won the ball at halfway, sent it up, showed some grand skills and then rocketed a goal home with 2 minutes left on the clock. The stadium went bananas. It was loud and ruckus. My babies and I love it.
___________________________________________________________________
I don't know why I worry.
But I do.
On the way home from the match, my oldest informed me that a girl asked him out today.
I visualised my favourite beach and calmly inquired what his response to that was, I get points somewhere for that.
He said "um, that's nice but no thank you." and then he added for my benefit, "what was she thinking mum? I'm way too young to date."
Bless you sweet innocent little Australian boy!
I might need a rum though.
20 August 2006
So we had a visit from the sheriff.
I am looking after a couple extra children this weekend. Their parents are away with their older brother.
So five kids, a soccer tournament and a very hyper ill-mannered jack russell.
My son is playing his first tournament with his new team here. It has been a good day. The boys played well. The coaches are still sorting out who plays best where. It is interesting watching them catch onto that one. Between matches today I took the five I am watching, plus two home to play. The two extra-extras were a favor to their mum who needed to take her littlie home for a nap between the matches. And really once you are watching five, why blink at seven?
So the afternoon was great, fresh air, sunshine and lots of good healthy food. It is all good.
The morning, well, it was interesting.
Before 10 am we had set off the house alarm, not my children but the ones who actually live here and know that the alarm is set, broken a bowl, talked to the alarm company and had the visit from the sheriff.
The alarm people send a cop out when you set off the alarm and they call and you don't know the passcode. The sheriff, sans cowboy hat, said he figured I was not robbing the place, since I was in my pajamas and I had a whole "passel" of kids running wild. I am very glad he left the big hat in the car because that after "passel" I nearly lost it, he might have had to cart me off to the padded room for nutters because I barely kept my laughing inside until he was gone.
Yeah.
And generally, I try and save the robbing until after my morning Dr. Pepper.
So five kids, a soccer tournament and a very hyper ill-mannered jack russell.
My son is playing his first tournament with his new team here. It has been a good day. The boys played well. The coaches are still sorting out who plays best where. It is interesting watching them catch onto that one. Between matches today I took the five I am watching, plus two home to play. The two extra-extras were a favor to their mum who needed to take her littlie home for a nap between the matches. And really once you are watching five, why blink at seven?
So the afternoon was great, fresh air, sunshine and lots of good healthy food. It is all good.
The morning, well, it was interesting.
Before 10 am we had set off the house alarm, not my children but the ones who actually live here and know that the alarm is set, broken a bowl, talked to the alarm company and had the visit from the sheriff.
The alarm people send a cop out when you set off the alarm and they call and you don't know the passcode. The sheriff, sans cowboy hat, said he figured I was not robbing the place, since I was in my pajamas and I had a whole "passel" of kids running wild. I am very glad he left the big hat in the car because that after "passel" I nearly lost it, he might have had to cart me off to the padded room for nutters because I barely kept my laughing inside until he was gone.
Yeah.
And generally, I try and save the robbing until after my morning Dr. Pepper.
17 August 2006
Happy Hour
I have put a contract on a house. I might be crazy but at least we won't be homeless any longer.
My least responsible bone would dearly love to take the 3 kids and wander the planet and see what we see, learn about cultures different to the two we know intimately. Thankfully the mummabear part of my mind has won out. I will buy a house, settle my wandering feet and be thankful for the 6 monthly return trips to Australia. For as long as they might last. I will find a job and raise my half grown babies in a peaceful house full of madness. Only the good kind of course. The dancing around the kitchen while we're cooking and all talking at once about the good bits/bad bits of our days, running like looneys in the back garden while we try and whip each other at soccer, and wrestling - the boys mostly but little miss can hold her own.
Now if I can only convince a lender to give me the money. I would not if I was them but hey who am I to tell them what to do? It is not a habit I have, why start now?
_____________________________________________________________________
Kids are extremely resiliant. They amaze me. And inspire. The boys have started at new schools. The oldest at one he has NEVER been to before. They both know a couple kids at their schools, but don't actually have any in their classes. Yet I pick them up in the afternoon and ask them about the day. Good they say. They sat with so and so at lunch and the computer teacher blabs too much and could we just get on with it already? And they are happy. Amazing. We are on the opposite side of the planet, have switched seasons, left behind all the familiar (at least with regards to school) and they get up, get ready and happily attend school. I am impressed.
____________________________________________________________________
3 adults 6 kids and 2 cars.
It is bedlam.
We all still like each other.
We are ever so glad for Sonic Happy Hour.
My least responsible bone would dearly love to take the 3 kids and wander the planet and see what we see, learn about cultures different to the two we know intimately. Thankfully the mummabear part of my mind has won out. I will buy a house, settle my wandering feet and be thankful for the 6 monthly return trips to Australia. For as long as they might last. I will find a job and raise my half grown babies in a peaceful house full of madness. Only the good kind of course. The dancing around the kitchen while we're cooking and all talking at once about the good bits/bad bits of our days, running like looneys in the back garden while we try and whip each other at soccer, and wrestling - the boys mostly but little miss can hold her own.
Now if I can only convince a lender to give me the money. I would not if I was them but hey who am I to tell them what to do? It is not a habit I have, why start now?
_____________________________________________________________________
Kids are extremely resiliant. They amaze me. And inspire. The boys have started at new schools. The oldest at one he has NEVER been to before. They both know a couple kids at their schools, but don't actually have any in their classes. Yet I pick them up in the afternoon and ask them about the day. Good they say. They sat with so and so at lunch and the computer teacher blabs too much and could we just get on with it already? And they are happy. Amazing. We are on the opposite side of the planet, have switched seasons, left behind all the familiar (at least with regards to school) and they get up, get ready and happily attend school. I am impressed.
____________________________________________________________________
3 adults 6 kids and 2 cars.
It is bedlam.
We all still like each other.
We are ever so glad for Sonic Happy Hour.
15 August 2006
last day of summer
I love the summer! Kids playing, staying up late, sleeping in, popcorn at all hours of the day, reading as many books as we can squeeze in, swimming, swimming, and more swimming.
We have only had two weeks officially of summer, but we've have sure loved it!
So today was our last day of summer. We slept late, played some games, floated in a friends blissful pool, ate pizza and brownies, lamented the fact that school starts tomorrow. If that's not a nice way to finish off the summer, I don't know what is.
As a mum, a not nice way to finish off the summer was the mad-house shopping on the eve of school commensing, even if I did go with two friends. I only needed dry erase markers, 3 pencil cases and black gym shorts and white t-shirts. My friends needed lots of other stuff. It turned into a marathon. 3 shops, 2 Sonic drinks and only 2 little bags later (for me anyway), a fair amount of laughter and we were done.
I can't say I am calm. I am not.
My boys are nervous, I am nervous. My sweet girl is not, she gets an extra week holidays, her school doesn't start for a week, she and I are equally thankful. I don't want them to struggle to be understood, I know they will though. I want them to ask questions about the things they don't understand, for the most part I am pretty sure they won't. I want them to have fun. I want them to make lots of friends. I just want it to all go smoothly. I hope the intermediateboy gets a great locker and cool mates to sit near. I hope elementaryboy finds a great mate to play with at recess. And I hope imperial maths comes easy to them both!
___________________________________________________________________
House buying. I know the one I want now I just have to charm the bank into loaning me the money for it. So easily said.
Car buying. I've got my eye on one, I just need to wait until after the bank loans me the money for the house and then I can skippity-do-da over the the car place and purchase my lovely little second hand beauty.
Job-hunting. I am hopeful. There's a plan. Get the kids in school, a house and then tackle the job.
I got a mobile phone. I burst the poor little sales guys bubble. Do I want it to take photos? Do I want it to text message? Do I want it to play music? Do I want it email? GPS? Wash the dishes? Find me a bloke? Change the oil? Raise my kids? Track my kids? The poor bloke. I told him I wanted the phone to make calls and receive calls. And I did not wish to have the million minute plan. Practical and boring. But it works for me. So now I have a phone. The number is easy to remember, and it takes photos and I did not have to pay for that bit. Happy.
___________________________________________________________________
My phone has a picture on the screen. It is a beach. Some bits of Australia just stick like sand to your sunkissed toes.
We have only had two weeks officially of summer, but we've have sure loved it!
So today was our last day of summer. We slept late, played some games, floated in a friends blissful pool, ate pizza and brownies, lamented the fact that school starts tomorrow. If that's not a nice way to finish off the summer, I don't know what is.
As a mum, a not nice way to finish off the summer was the mad-house shopping on the eve of school commensing, even if I did go with two friends. I only needed dry erase markers, 3 pencil cases and black gym shorts and white t-shirts. My friends needed lots of other stuff. It turned into a marathon. 3 shops, 2 Sonic drinks and only 2 little bags later (for me anyway), a fair amount of laughter and we were done.
I can't say I am calm. I am not.
My boys are nervous, I am nervous. My sweet girl is not, she gets an extra week holidays, her school doesn't start for a week, she and I are equally thankful. I don't want them to struggle to be understood, I know they will though. I want them to ask questions about the things they don't understand, for the most part I am pretty sure they won't. I want them to have fun. I want them to make lots of friends. I just want it to all go smoothly. I hope the intermediateboy gets a great locker and cool mates to sit near. I hope elementaryboy finds a great mate to play with at recess. And I hope imperial maths comes easy to them both!
___________________________________________________________________
House buying. I know the one I want now I just have to charm the bank into loaning me the money for it. So easily said.
Car buying. I've got my eye on one, I just need to wait until after the bank loans me the money for the house and then I can skippity-do-da over the the car place and purchase my lovely little second hand beauty.
Job-hunting. I am hopeful. There's a plan. Get the kids in school, a house and then tackle the job.
I got a mobile phone. I burst the poor little sales guys bubble. Do I want it to take photos? Do I want it to text message? Do I want it to play music? Do I want it email? GPS? Wash the dishes? Find me a bloke? Change the oil? Raise my kids? Track my kids? The poor bloke. I told him I wanted the phone to make calls and receive calls. And I did not wish to have the million minute plan. Practical and boring. But it works for me. So now I have a phone. The number is easy to remember, and it takes photos and I did not have to pay for that bit. Happy.
___________________________________________________________________
My phone has a picture on the screen. It is a beach. Some bits of Australia just stick like sand to your sunkissed toes.
08 August 2006
Tortilla chips and salsa
Food is a blissful thing.
Sharing spectacular food with great friends is beyond measure. This past weekend the kids and I left our house/car/school/phone hunting responsibilities 3 hours behind and traipsed off to Keller Tx to visit some friends. We drove straight through Calvert Tx, a tiny little town we all oogled at for it's oldtimeyness and it's reminiscent downtown storefronts, promising ourselves that next time we drive to Keller, mum will NOT forget the camera, we can take a photo of the the beautiful shopfront bearing the name Oscar Building.
Seeing the building stirred up a whole flurry of conversations about the brothers and the boy himself who bears the buildings name, happy-happy conversations! Only 18 wks until we see them again!
So Keller. The kids have grown and matured. Goes without saying, but it is still astonishing when you are looking face to face with a boy you have known since the Wiggles were cool in your house. And yes - time to face the music chinstickergirl, he is taller than you! With a graciousness that Mississippi breeds her husband encourages, humors, and baffles (it was the dancing no one thought I witnessed) and all without being over the top, pleasant to be welcomed in their home. Lots of swimming, feeding of the masses, dogwalks, late night talks and hugs later, and all is just a little bit sunnier in life.
It had been a bit over 14 months since I'd last visited. We have lived a decade in that time. We are somewhat hardened and softened all at the same time by what we have endured. Our year has been rough, but we have learned more than we will ever be able to put into words I am sure. But (yes, J there is always a but, lucky I am cute eh?) the kids walk in and it is as if we left last weekend. They are all bigger and with much longer hair, but the friendship that has spanned an ocean picks up right where it left off 14 months ago. That's just so pleasantly comforting.
And.
You can never consume too many tortilla chips.
Sharing spectacular food with great friends is beyond measure. This past weekend the kids and I left our house/car/school/phone hunting responsibilities 3 hours behind and traipsed off to Keller Tx to visit some friends. We drove straight through Calvert Tx, a tiny little town we all oogled at for it's oldtimeyness and it's reminiscent downtown storefronts, promising ourselves that next time we drive to Keller, mum will NOT forget the camera, we can take a photo of the the beautiful shopfront bearing the name Oscar Building.
Seeing the building stirred up a whole flurry of conversations about the brothers and the boy himself who bears the buildings name, happy-happy conversations! Only 18 wks until we see them again!
So Keller. The kids have grown and matured. Goes without saying, but it is still astonishing when you are looking face to face with a boy you have known since the Wiggles were cool in your house. And yes - time to face the music chinstickergirl, he is taller than you! With a graciousness that Mississippi breeds her husband encourages, humors, and baffles (it was the dancing no one thought I witnessed) and all without being over the top, pleasant to be welcomed in their home. Lots of swimming, feeding of the masses, dogwalks, late night talks and hugs later, and all is just a little bit sunnier in life.
It had been a bit over 14 months since I'd last visited. We have lived a decade in that time. We are somewhat hardened and softened all at the same time by what we have endured. Our year has been rough, but we have learned more than we will ever be able to put into words I am sure. But (yes, J there is always a but, lucky I am cute eh?) the kids walk in and it is as if we left last weekend. They are all bigger and with much longer hair, but the friendship that has spanned an ocean picks up right where it left off 14 months ago. That's just so pleasantly comforting.
And.
You can never consume too many tortilla chips.
25 July 2006
Don't Hide the Rum.
Surviving the madness of the immigrating check-in with one out of date passport.
It is a test of mental stamina.
A purchase of a one way flight out of the USA for a future date, TA - Mrs. S - you are a treasured friend, saved the sanity at the beginning of the trip. As if it wasn't stressful enough to leave many loved ones behind, and return to a country I haven't lived in for nearly a decade, with three kids and now single. The ick lived on as we barely made our flight. Come to find out the ticket counter-people had been communicating about us with the flight crew. The drinks trolley lady stopped by and delivered little blessed beverages for me VERY shortly after take off, reassuring me that all would be well now.
Los Angeles is a different story. It is long, it is ugly. The children and I survived it, however, we will avoid it like the plague from here on out. We will fly through San Fran. I like it better anyway. I have shamed myself from ever returning to LA. We all cried our way through missing our flight, and trying to sort out the new flights to Houston with the two cats. The cats cried too. It was pitiful, I can never go back through there. I am blaming it on the stress of the last three years that finally all leaked out my eyes on that hideously long day.
So no. Don't hide the rum. I am certain pirates were onto something. It is medicinal.
It is a test of mental stamina.
A purchase of a one way flight out of the USA for a future date, TA - Mrs. S - you are a treasured friend, saved the sanity at the beginning of the trip. As if it wasn't stressful enough to leave many loved ones behind, and return to a country I haven't lived in for nearly a decade, with three kids and now single. The ick lived on as we barely made our flight. Come to find out the ticket counter-people had been communicating about us with the flight crew. The drinks trolley lady stopped by and delivered little blessed beverages for me VERY shortly after take off, reassuring me that all would be well now.
Los Angeles is a different story. It is long, it is ugly. The children and I survived it, however, we will avoid it like the plague from here on out. We will fly through San Fran. I like it better anyway. I have shamed myself from ever returning to LA. We all cried our way through missing our flight, and trying to sort out the new flights to Houston with the two cats. The cats cried too. It was pitiful, I can never go back through there. I am blaming it on the stress of the last three years that finally all leaked out my eyes on that hideously long day.
So no. Don't hide the rum. I am certain pirates were onto something. It is medicinal.
18 July 2006
I'm back.
For years I let it slip away, I let someone other than me dictate life.
I gave away control for the greater good or so I thought.
So last night I went out for dinner with a friend who is a guy. He is not married to any of my friends, or anybody else for that matter, we are in similar places in life, both having survived hideous marraiges. Survival of the fittest if you are a darwinist. Bloody strong if you're not. So it's not going anywhere other than friendship, I am leaving the country in a week. But that said. Nice to go out. Very nice to sit across a table from a handsome bloke. Share a meal. Talk and laugh. Extend a friendship that has nothing to do with your previous life. Good for the soul, well that might be a stretch, but surely good for the confidence.
Pleasant to realize that after all the years of being controlled that you can happily make well thought out decisions that are in fact good for you. Nobody gets hurt. There are plenty of situations to laugh about. Not bad.
____________________________________________________________________
The house has turned to bedlam. If I had to stay longer than a week, I'd end up in a padded cell with my daily delivery of medicated bliss. There are piles, piles, piles. Piles of clothes to be given away to various people. Piles of books to take down to the second hand book seller. Piles of summer clothes to be packed in a suitcase to take on the plane. Piles of winter clothes to wear so we don't freeze before we depart, why we need record breaking lows the week before departure is a funny Murphy-like irony. Piles of winter clothes to be shipped because after 14-18 weeks when the boat arrives with our stuff we might want those warm clothes. Piles of ski, snorkle and camp gear to be shipped. Piles of photos, arkwork and kids trophy's to be shipped. Yikes. If I was ruthless we would take nothing other than what we could carry on the plane. BUT - there is often one, I don't want my babies to forget the time we lived here, maybe the icky bits where their father turned into a board weilding control freak, we can forget that bit, but the rest, our lovely friends and great sport and beaches we visited we need to remember, so the piles, while they might make me nuts, will be fine in the end.
____________________________________________________________________
3 sleeps til I get my babies back.
6 sleeps til we leave the country.
how many sleeps before we're settled again? It is going to be a fun, crazy time.
I gave away control for the greater good or so I thought.
So last night I went out for dinner with a friend who is a guy. He is not married to any of my friends, or anybody else for that matter, we are in similar places in life, both having survived hideous marraiges. Survival of the fittest if you are a darwinist. Bloody strong if you're not. So it's not going anywhere other than friendship, I am leaving the country in a week. But that said. Nice to go out. Very nice to sit across a table from a handsome bloke. Share a meal. Talk and laugh. Extend a friendship that has nothing to do with your previous life. Good for the soul, well that might be a stretch, but surely good for the confidence.
Pleasant to realize that after all the years of being controlled that you can happily make well thought out decisions that are in fact good for you. Nobody gets hurt. There are plenty of situations to laugh about. Not bad.
____________________________________________________________________
The house has turned to bedlam. If I had to stay longer than a week, I'd end up in a padded cell with my daily delivery of medicated bliss. There are piles, piles, piles. Piles of clothes to be given away to various people. Piles of books to take down to the second hand book seller. Piles of summer clothes to be packed in a suitcase to take on the plane. Piles of winter clothes to wear so we don't freeze before we depart, why we need record breaking lows the week before departure is a funny Murphy-like irony. Piles of winter clothes to be shipped because after 14-18 weeks when the boat arrives with our stuff we might want those warm clothes. Piles of ski, snorkle and camp gear to be shipped. Piles of photos, arkwork and kids trophy's to be shipped. Yikes. If I was ruthless we would take nothing other than what we could carry on the plane. BUT - there is often one, I don't want my babies to forget the time we lived here, maybe the icky bits where their father turned into a board weilding control freak, we can forget that bit, but the rest, our lovely friends and great sport and beaches we visited we need to remember, so the piles, while they might make me nuts, will be fine in the end.
____________________________________________________________________
3 sleeps til I get my babies back.
6 sleeps til we leave the country.
how many sleeps before we're settled again? It is going to be a fun, crazy time.
15 July 2006
Too much control, really.
Tossing out is good for the soul.
3 boxes have thrived under our bed for years. Mass dust bunny production. Whole communities of allergens have spawned there within the box neighborhood. The boxes are now vanquished. It was a hard battle, a war fought for the greater good, that being the miserly skimping of shipping unwanted items 8000 miles across the ocean. It is a worthy war. I have not needed the items in the boxes, they've been sorted and stacked for years, and things have come and gone from the boxes. But today was the armageddon of boxes. I tossed the boxes with all their contents n the bin. Lest I, in a weak moment, decide that no, I really need that t-shirt from 1988.
______________________________________________________________________
As people go, he has control issues. I knew by the grip on the incoming mail, the locking up of the paperwork that runs a household, the insane interest in anything that could possibly be purchased for the house. Thank goodness it didn't start out that way, and we had quite a few great years, not to mention the 3 best human beings on the planet. And at least I know without a shadow of a doubt what caused the downfall into madness - religious zealous fanaticism. They are constant, and I'll be glad to board a plane with the babies in 8 days.
BUT - there has to be one,
Nothing made me laugh so hard as realising his control issues extended to fixed artwork. We have for the last 5 years had a framed needlework hung above the window over our sink. He'll be damned if that frame comes down, apparently, it's a hell and purgatory for him, because he hasn't just hung it on a nail, he's hammered the wire into the wall with a staple into the dent between the v-j-boards. That sucker was NEVER EVER coming down or gonna move. I guess if you can't control those around you, transfer some of that vengence onto the innocent decorative objects around the house. Lock down your staples Australia, cultman is going to be on the loose!
3 boxes have thrived under our bed for years. Mass dust bunny production. Whole communities of allergens have spawned there within the box neighborhood. The boxes are now vanquished. It was a hard battle, a war fought for the greater good, that being the miserly skimping of shipping unwanted items 8000 miles across the ocean. It is a worthy war. I have not needed the items in the boxes, they've been sorted and stacked for years, and things have come and gone from the boxes. But today was the armageddon of boxes. I tossed the boxes with all their contents n the bin. Lest I, in a weak moment, decide that no, I really need that t-shirt from 1988.
______________________________________________________________________
As people go, he has control issues. I knew by the grip on the incoming mail, the locking up of the paperwork that runs a household, the insane interest in anything that could possibly be purchased for the house. Thank goodness it didn't start out that way, and we had quite a few great years, not to mention the 3 best human beings on the planet. And at least I know without a shadow of a doubt what caused the downfall into madness - religious zealous fanaticism. They are constant, and I'll be glad to board a plane with the babies in 8 days.
BUT - there has to be one,
Nothing made me laugh so hard as realising his control issues extended to fixed artwork. We have for the last 5 years had a framed needlework hung above the window over our sink. He'll be damned if that frame comes down, apparently, it's a hell and purgatory for him, because he hasn't just hung it on a nail, he's hammered the wire into the wall with a staple into the dent between the v-j-boards. That sucker was NEVER EVER coming down or gonna move. I guess if you can't control those around you, transfer some of that vengence onto the innocent decorative objects around the house. Lock down your staples Australia, cultman is going to be on the loose!
12 July 2006
mr. inspection - he's obviously misled.
His highness of all thoughts of self-importance continues to believe there are some directions he is allowed to give. He is wrong. This is where the losing the collossal court battle must start to rub, for him anyway. The property bit was signed off on over a month ago. If there was any negotiations to be done, they are to happen BEFORE you sign the final document. His Highness of all things small should have thought of the house inspection prior to the signing of all the legal documents thanks. No I don't have to let you IN the house, why?
Oh, I'm going to go with the 3rd grade response of "because the federal judge said so."
I signed a legal document stating I'd leave the house in the condition it came to me in. Nothing like covering your bum. The house is eighty years old. I could invite a band of rogue possums in and legally I'd be covered. Really though I have 2wks to pack 9 yrs, 3 kids and 2 cats worth of stuff, not to mention the going aways and morning teas, and girls nights out to celebrate being free of the bastard, why would I waste one more second of my life on messing up his precious house. I got the kids and I get to leave the country.
an inspection? go smoke it.
Oh, I'm going to go with the 3rd grade response of "because the federal judge said so."
I signed a legal document stating I'd leave the house in the condition it came to me in. Nothing like covering your bum. The house is eighty years old. I could invite a band of rogue possums in and legally I'd be covered. Really though I have 2wks to pack 9 yrs, 3 kids and 2 cats worth of stuff, not to mention the going aways and morning teas, and girls nights out to celebrate being free of the bastard, why would I waste one more second of my life on messing up his precious house. I got the kids and I get to leave the country.
an inspection? go smoke it.
09 July 2006
Pockets
Cleaning out children's bedrooms when they are not present is a completely different experience.
One of my boys has a habit of putting treasures in his pockets. Now when he was in Grade 1 the kids did a large project studying the waste and saving of water in everyday practices. It was done solely at school during classtime. We live in drought stricken Queensland so there is a purpose to the study of water usage at age 6. The education department figures if nothing else if your little grade 1'er is badgering you every time you turn on a tap for a year eventually you'll change the water use practices. They are right. It makes washing up and cleaning clothes covert activities. Back to my second son. He has since grade 1 been very particular about cleaning his clothes, they have to be really dirty for to put them in the wash on his own. So concequently I have to occassionally search and rescue the clothes needing a wash from his drawers. Now the kids have been with their dad 8 days now. I have gotten around to the sorting making a collossal mess stage of the getting the house ready for the packers in a week and a half. I was not all that suprized to clean out said sons drawers this morning and find shorts, they did not look dirty by the way, but upon trying to fold them I found TREASURE! A grey plastic medieval knight (like the little green army guys but from Roman times), a red plastic bicycle with rolling wheels, a royal blue pipe cleaner, and a napkin from COLD ROCK ice cream - unused. Now I remember the day he stashed these treasures, we don't go to Cold ROck very often. It was a great day! What fun to find. I am promising myself not to grimace the next time some of these little treasures go through the wash and I open the lid on the machine to see miniscule bits of white flecks all through the wash, because today my heart sang remembering. Now my other son, he refuses to wear shorts with pockets, he's the one I'll need to keep close tabs on in teenagehood, he's already aware of not leaving any incriminating evidence. Yikes.
One of my boys has a habit of putting treasures in his pockets. Now when he was in Grade 1 the kids did a large project studying the waste and saving of water in everyday practices. It was done solely at school during classtime. We live in drought stricken Queensland so there is a purpose to the study of water usage at age 6. The education department figures if nothing else if your little grade 1'er is badgering you every time you turn on a tap for a year eventually you'll change the water use practices. They are right. It makes washing up and cleaning clothes covert activities. Back to my second son. He has since grade 1 been very particular about cleaning his clothes, they have to be really dirty for to put them in the wash on his own. So concequently I have to occassionally search and rescue the clothes needing a wash from his drawers. Now the kids have been with their dad 8 days now. I have gotten around to the sorting making a collossal mess stage of the getting the house ready for the packers in a week and a half. I was not all that suprized to clean out said sons drawers this morning and find shorts, they did not look dirty by the way, but upon trying to fold them I found TREASURE! A grey plastic medieval knight (like the little green army guys but from Roman times), a red plastic bicycle with rolling wheels, a royal blue pipe cleaner, and a napkin from COLD ROCK ice cream - unused. Now I remember the day he stashed these treasures, we don't go to Cold ROck very often. It was a great day! What fun to find. I am promising myself not to grimace the next time some of these little treasures go through the wash and I open the lid on the machine to see miniscule bits of white flecks all through the wash, because today my heart sang remembering. Now my other son, he refuses to wear shorts with pockets, he's the one I'll need to keep close tabs on in teenagehood, he's already aware of not leaving any incriminating evidence. Yikes.
08 July 2006
Playing with Fire?
It's my dad's birthday! I hope he ate chocolate cake for breakfast! You really need to on your birthday, in the interest of world peace and harmony.
______________________________________________________________________
I have managed to organize a shipping company, an animal transport carrier, and collect all the records we will need to have upon our return to the USA. But still it doesn't feel lke I've done enough. The departure date is looming, like the sweaty build up of a summer storm, 16 days and hell or high water we are boarding that plane.
I hate packing. I loathe packing. It is tempting to just leave it all in the house that his hideousness wanted so badly. Knowing my babies will return here in 6 months time for a visit keeps me from doing just that. Again it's not about him, it is about what is best for them. They do not need to return to the house where we lived for so long as a family and see it as we left it. They do not deserve that heartache, and that is exactly what he would do to them. I know because when we came back last July after 7 months away, that is what we walked into. It's not healthy. I wish he would think of that. It is as likely as world peace but I can still hope for it while not holdng my breath. Most likely he'll stay trapped forever in the misery of his cult believing he is doing God's work all they while he's lost the most precious of treasures.
____________________________________________________________________
Rugby players ears warrant enough notice to prevent my sons from ever playing that game.
____________________________________________________________________
It is a mix of the two.
I can still remember the dread, my belly seeming to drop outside my body when the babysitter yelled at my sister and I. I had never seen him do much of anything other than sit at the table , push his glasses back up his nose and study those books. I was in love, the books, in my seven year old mind, books that big, with their sturdy hard backs that looked like they'd been read over and over and over again, had to hold some fabulous wonderful stories. The horrible words he yelled while his neck turned red. We had heard those words at school. "there's a tornado coming!" I remember running to the bathroom, feeling like my belly was back there somewhere in the living room with an entire bag of the valetines love heart candy rotting in it.
The tingling in my hands, the fluttering of my heart in my chest, the warm flushing of my face as his lips headed for mine, the thrill racing through my teenage mind.
The dread and the thrill, the pendulum swings with alarming rapidity between the two. Flirting after divorce.
______________________________________________________________________
I have managed to organize a shipping company, an animal transport carrier, and collect all the records we will need to have upon our return to the USA. But still it doesn't feel lke I've done enough. The departure date is looming, like the sweaty build up of a summer storm, 16 days and hell or high water we are boarding that plane.
I hate packing. I loathe packing. It is tempting to just leave it all in the house that his hideousness wanted so badly. Knowing my babies will return here in 6 months time for a visit keeps me from doing just that. Again it's not about him, it is about what is best for them. They do not need to return to the house where we lived for so long as a family and see it as we left it. They do not deserve that heartache, and that is exactly what he would do to them. I know because when we came back last July after 7 months away, that is what we walked into. It's not healthy. I wish he would think of that. It is as likely as world peace but I can still hope for it while not holdng my breath. Most likely he'll stay trapped forever in the misery of his cult believing he is doing God's work all they while he's lost the most precious of treasures.
____________________________________________________________________
Rugby players ears warrant enough notice to prevent my sons from ever playing that game.
____________________________________________________________________
It is a mix of the two.
I can still remember the dread, my belly seeming to drop outside my body when the babysitter yelled at my sister and I. I had never seen him do much of anything other than sit at the table , push his glasses back up his nose and study those books. I was in love, the books, in my seven year old mind, books that big, with their sturdy hard backs that looked like they'd been read over and over and over again, had to hold some fabulous wonderful stories. The horrible words he yelled while his neck turned red. We had heard those words at school. "there's a tornado coming!" I remember running to the bathroom, feeling like my belly was back there somewhere in the living room with an entire bag of the valetines love heart candy rotting in it.
The tingling in my hands, the fluttering of my heart in my chest, the warm flushing of my face as his lips headed for mine, the thrill racing through my teenage mind.
The dread and the thrill, the pendulum swings with alarming rapidity between the two. Flirting after divorce.
05 July 2006
Final being the KEY word.
Final orders. Did he not understand? When you go to court, the JUDGE makes FINAL orders.
Final meaning that's it, no going back, it's all over smokey. He's the federal Judge what he says goes! It doesn't matter that you the lowley husband who took me to court don't like his decision, since you took it to the realm of the courts to decide - HE GETS THE LAST SAY!!!! There is no more negotiating, if he says we're allowed to return to the USA with or without you, he means it. So we will go. You can play all the games you want, you bugger, but that is all they are is games. And in three weeks, the babies and I will get on a plane and leave and return and make a new home an ocean away.
Final meaning that's it, no going back, it's all over smokey. He's the federal Judge what he says goes! It doesn't matter that you the lowley husband who took me to court don't like his decision, since you took it to the realm of the courts to decide - HE GETS THE LAST SAY!!!! There is no more negotiating, if he says we're allowed to return to the USA with or without you, he means it. So we will go. You can play all the games you want, you bugger, but that is all they are is games. And in three weeks, the babies and I will get on a plane and leave and return and make a new home an ocean away.
04 July 2006
The shipping quote is more than all 4 international plane tickets, the cats cargo ticket/vet check/etc., and the amount you plan on spending at Duty Free, it's not a good sign.
Leftover birthday cake should be a food group all it's own, with the recommended daily allowance intake being advocated for breakfast.
Packing requires LOTS of cake. It's a well known law.
______________________________________________________________________
I will miss the way Australians pronounce kno-W-n. They just love that W.
I already miss Tallebugerra Beach. Beauty.
____________________________________________________________________
I am looking forward to CLIMATE CONTROL. More the opportunity to use it if I choose not to get frostbite on my skinny little fingers as they type. Queenslanders are fabulous in summer where their height from the ground helps them to remain cool and comfortable and breezy. Not so much in winter, where inside the house is significantly colder than the outside temperature.
____________________________________________________________________
Happy 4th of July!!!!!!!!! I should be shooting the breeze, playing cards and drinking beer with my family at the lake. Instead I am 8000 miles from home packing a house and worrying about my babies. I'll spend the evening post soccer training, running down to Southbank to have dinner and catch a movie with another friend who is going through an impossible situation. I'll have a glass of wine instead of a beer, there will be no cards, but the company will be fantastic and the food delicious - the evening very fun, but possibly not as loud as the lake.
____________________________________________________________________
Leftover birthday cake should be a food group all it's own, with the recommended daily allowance intake being advocated for breakfast.
Packing requires LOTS of cake. It's a well known law.
______________________________________________________________________
I will miss the way Australians pronounce kno-W-n. They just love that W.
I already miss Tallebugerra Beach. Beauty.
____________________________________________________________________
I am looking forward to CLIMATE CONTROL. More the opportunity to use it if I choose not to get frostbite on my skinny little fingers as they type. Queenslanders are fabulous in summer where their height from the ground helps them to remain cool and comfortable and breezy. Not so much in winter, where inside the house is significantly colder than the outside temperature.
____________________________________________________________________
Happy 4th of July!!!!!!!!! I should be shooting the breeze, playing cards and drinking beer with my family at the lake. Instead I am 8000 miles from home packing a house and worrying about my babies. I'll spend the evening post soccer training, running down to Southbank to have dinner and catch a movie with another friend who is going through an impossible situation. I'll have a glass of wine instead of a beer, there will be no cards, but the company will be fantastic and the food delicious - the evening very fun, but possibly not as loud as the lake.
____________________________________________________________________
27 June 2006
Humfp.
The magical run has come to a screeching halt. All in the time it took to blow a whistle.
The beautiful game, 11 Australian men gave it all they had for 94 minutes, then to be ROBBED in the final minute by a ref.
Actually most of the World Cup matches have been marred by poor refs. Today was jsut another sad example. Early in the second half he flashed a red card to the Italians that never should have been, at best it might have been a yellow card.
So the Italians were down to 10 men.
As the match wore on the Australians could not convert their hard work to goals, sad but painfully true. It's hard to get a ball through 8 men in the penalty box. We'll have to work on that.
But the saddest most pitiful part of the game, and the sole reasons why MILLIONS do not love the beautiful game occurred in the final minute of extra time. A DIVE. I don't get it, I'll never get it, it should not be a part of the game and MOST countries do NOT employ this tactic of falling to the ground at the lightest of touches. Grosso who for all intents and purposes looks to be a strong man, was felled by Lucas Neill's defending of the ball, from the ground. IN FACT Mr. Neill only made contact with the ball and Totti had all his weight on his RIGHT leg and dangled his left over the fallen defender, before collapsing to the ground in attempt to win a penalty kick. Which REF you should be ashamed of yourself for giving him! It was over before he ever kicked the penalty. What a sad way for it to end for the Australians World Cup campaign.
Humfp.
The beautiful game, 11 Australian men gave it all they had for 94 minutes, then to be ROBBED in the final minute by a ref.
Actually most of the World Cup matches have been marred by poor refs. Today was jsut another sad example. Early in the second half he flashed a red card to the Italians that never should have been, at best it might have been a yellow card.
So the Italians were down to 10 men.
As the match wore on the Australians could not convert their hard work to goals, sad but painfully true. It's hard to get a ball through 8 men in the penalty box. We'll have to work on that.
But the saddest most pitiful part of the game, and the sole reasons why MILLIONS do not love the beautiful game occurred in the final minute of extra time. A DIVE. I don't get it, I'll never get it, it should not be a part of the game and MOST countries do NOT employ this tactic of falling to the ground at the lightest of touches. Grosso who for all intents and purposes looks to be a strong man, was felled by Lucas Neill's defending of the ball, from the ground. IN FACT Mr. Neill only made contact with the ball and Totti had all his weight on his RIGHT leg and dangled his left over the fallen defender, before collapsing to the ground in attempt to win a penalty kick. Which REF you should be ashamed of yourself for giving him! It was over before he ever kicked the penalty. What a sad way for it to end for the Australians World Cup campaign.
Humfp.
23 June 2006
I knew it was going to be ugly
I know that he is hurt, and I know that he is afraid he will lose touch with the children, for the last nine years of living in Australia, he has told me how much I am a daughter to him. Hmmmmm.
So when he realized that his son wanted to be married to his cult rather than me, I am thinking that my father reacted slightly differently. He said to me as my father-in-law, you should just stay with him for the kids sake, I am sure he would not tell his own daughter that. If her husband was hitting their kids with a 2 by 4 in the name of Godly discipline, teaching their children that the male is dominate in all things and power unto himself, able to control all aspects of his wife and childrens lives without input from any of them - I am not certain he would sing the same tune. For starters, I don't care what they may or may not have done, children should not be hit with a 2 by 4 EVER. The is nothing GODLY about it. And when you stand over them and tell them you doing this is the name of God, they will want nothing to do with a God like that. I reckon when God is talking to husbands in the bible about being the head of the house it has much less to do with control than love. My father-in-law if he really were being supportive like an actual father, he might have been supportive when I had whooping cough and was flat on the floor nearly dead for 3wks, or when his son wouldn't buy his little boy new shoes when the old ones fell apart literally, or possibly again when his son refused to pay the registration on the car and I could not drive the children to school, those were instances where he could have shown his support. You would think he could understand the need for me to return back to my home country to the support of my family when he so obviously is not going to give it. He most certainly would not wish this on his own daughter. Hell she didn't even have children or a crap marraige and he wanted her "home" in Australia. So in the end I am not like his daughter, I am very much just the mother of his grandchildren and a woman whom he doesn't like very much at all because I won't do it his way. Well that's an old song and I am NOT SINGING IT. Can I just note here that my Australian friends here have been horrified at the very unaustralian nature of my in-laws on the whole, no one wants little australians treated this way, and if we were related to any of my Australian friends families I am sure the journey would have been different.
I don't think so.
So when he realized that his son wanted to be married to his cult rather than me, I am thinking that my father reacted slightly differently. He said to me as my father-in-law, you should just stay with him for the kids sake, I am sure he would not tell his own daughter that. If her husband was hitting their kids with a 2 by 4 in the name of Godly discipline, teaching their children that the male is dominate in all things and power unto himself, able to control all aspects of his wife and childrens lives without input from any of them - I am not certain he would sing the same tune. For starters, I don't care what they may or may not have done, children should not be hit with a 2 by 4 EVER. The is nothing GODLY about it. And when you stand over them and tell them you doing this is the name of God, they will want nothing to do with a God like that. I reckon when God is talking to husbands in the bible about being the head of the house it has much less to do with control than love. My father-in-law if he really were being supportive like an actual father, he might have been supportive when I had whooping cough and was flat on the floor nearly dead for 3wks, or when his son wouldn't buy his little boy new shoes when the old ones fell apart literally, or possibly again when his son refused to pay the registration on the car and I could not drive the children to school, those were instances where he could have shown his support. You would think he could understand the need for me to return back to my home country to the support of my family when he so obviously is not going to give it. He most certainly would not wish this on his own daughter. Hell she didn't even have children or a crap marraige and he wanted her "home" in Australia. So in the end I am not like his daughter, I am very much just the mother of his grandchildren and a woman whom he doesn't like very much at all because I won't do it his way. Well that's an old song and I am NOT SINGING IT. Can I just note here that my Australian friends here have been horrified at the very unaustralian nature of my in-laws on the whole, no one wants little australians treated this way, and if we were related to any of my Australian friends families I am sure the journey would have been different.
I don't think so.
13 June 2006
WE DID IT!!!!
After 32 yrs, Australia has done it!!!!
We made it to the World Cup, and a nervous little start to the first match. Australia has shown their fitness and tenacity tonight, we won 3-1 against Japan - the Asian champions no less!
Japan's goal, it shouldn't have been. The interference with the goal keeper only would have been slightly more obvious if they guys had done a pigpile on Australia's #1. Open your eyes ref.
The house shook, we woke the neighbours, we ate ice blocks at midnight!!!! What a night!!
We made it to the World Cup, and a nervous little start to the first match. Australia has shown their fitness and tenacity tonight, we won 3-1 against Japan - the Asian champions no less!
Japan's goal, it shouldn't have been. The interference with the goal keeper only would have been slightly more obvious if they guys had done a pigpile on Australia's #1. Open your eyes ref.
The house shook, we woke the neighbours, we ate ice blocks at midnight!!!! What a night!!
08 June 2006
8,500 miles
There are days where this feels like home. Other days, not so much.
Granted, we don't speak the same language by a long shot. It's quite noticable at times. For example, on Fridays, it is very pronounced that I am not from here. I help in my little girls classroom with the other mothers to test the kids on their weekly spelling words. Several of the children I CAN NOT test. Because of my accent. They get words wrong, lots of words, occassionally all the words. It is not as if I have some huge southern drawl, people often take a while to guess where it is that I am from. So several little kids get to spell their words for the aussie mummies. Those days it feels like I am a long way from home.
Sitting in court listening to my ex's barrister insult me, I felt every mile.
Talking to my mother on the phone and trying to temper what I say so that she doesn't worry too much, I feel very far from home.
On the other hand, playing indoor soccer with friends and beating far younger opponents, well it feels pretty homey. Meeting girlfriends for coffee, and catching up on life, discussing my options with them about what I'll do depending on how the court case turns out, well it doesn't feel quite so far from home.
Still, I can't get a Route 44 or fresh tortillas, a hug from my momma, or a drink with my sister, 8,500 is a lotta miles.
Granted, we don't speak the same language by a long shot. It's quite noticable at times. For example, on Fridays, it is very pronounced that I am not from here. I help in my little girls classroom with the other mothers to test the kids on their weekly spelling words. Several of the children I CAN NOT test. Because of my accent. They get words wrong, lots of words, occassionally all the words. It is not as if I have some huge southern drawl, people often take a while to guess where it is that I am from. So several little kids get to spell their words for the aussie mummies. Those days it feels like I am a long way from home.
Sitting in court listening to my ex's barrister insult me, I felt every mile.
Talking to my mother on the phone and trying to temper what I say so that she doesn't worry too much, I feel very far from home.
On the other hand, playing indoor soccer with friends and beating far younger opponents, well it feels pretty homey. Meeting girlfriends for coffee, and catching up on life, discussing my options with them about what I'll do depending on how the court case turns out, well it doesn't feel quite so far from home.
Still, I can't get a Route 44 or fresh tortillas, a hug from my momma, or a drink with my sister, 8,500 is a lotta miles.
06 June 2006
Face the Fact
An ice pack does much better swellilng reduction if actually applied to the swollen area instead of the floor. TRUE
Tennis shoes have less traction than spideyman, especially on gravel. TRUE
After a full day at school, boys just might reach the end of their rope and decide to take it out on one another. TRUE
Witnessing boys taking out their frustrations might drive one to drink. TRUE
Grounding is a calming sedative employed by adults to lull children into pondering life in general and individual behavior specifially. TRUE
Some days you'd just like nothing better than to swap lives with anyone else, because really life is just icky. False.
They, the people who's brains aren't yet fully developed and who are entrusted in my care, they drive me nuts, they call me crazy, they try my patience, but I love them and really I wouldn't miss a minute of it. I'm fighting to keep every second of it. Craziness and all.
____________________________________________________________________
3 kids , a trampoline and a bag of marshmellows.
lock the kids in the trampoline, it's got a special made enclosure just for this purpose, head upstairs and lean out an open window. Tell the kids to bounce.
Randomly toss marshmellows into the trampoline, watch the madness.
It's cheaper than therapy.
____________________________________________________________________
We're going to see STOMP. I can't wait. The kids can't wait.
Tennis shoes have less traction than spideyman, especially on gravel. TRUE
After a full day at school, boys just might reach the end of their rope and decide to take it out on one another. TRUE
Witnessing boys taking out their frustrations might drive one to drink. TRUE
Grounding is a calming sedative employed by adults to lull children into pondering life in general and individual behavior specifially. TRUE
Some days you'd just like nothing better than to swap lives with anyone else, because really life is just icky. False.
They, the people who's brains aren't yet fully developed and who are entrusted in my care, they drive me nuts, they call me crazy, they try my patience, but I love them and really I wouldn't miss a minute of it. I'm fighting to keep every second of it. Craziness and all.
____________________________________________________________________
3 kids , a trampoline and a bag of marshmellows.
lock the kids in the trampoline, it's got a special made enclosure just for this purpose, head upstairs and lean out an open window. Tell the kids to bounce.
Randomly toss marshmellows into the trampoline, watch the madness.
It's cheaper than therapy.
____________________________________________________________________
We're going to see STOMP. I can't wait. The kids can't wait.
24 May 2006
BASE JUMPER STRIKES AGAIN
Is it a bad sign when you ring the Dr.'s office and they instinctively know which child needs the emergency appointment after you've told them your surname?
I am thinking it is.
Either
A. Your on the childabuse watch list
B. They have a camera fixed on your house and saw you carry the boy up the front steps.
C. The impact reverberations from when the child hit the ground and then the large solid object fell on him reached the Dr.'s surgery.
D. They heard that horrific scream that came from your mouth, you know the one only dogs can hear, when you felt the house shake and just knew something awful was happening downstairs.
E. All of the above.
Anyway it's never a good thing. Not something you call your Grammie and boast about.
The crazieness continues without fail. You try and hold it back, you have lots of "Come to Jesus" talks with the boy about how the human body really is quite fragile and reasonably delicate.
It's the flying feeling that gets him everytime.
He decided to run and leap and swing on the roof rack that hangs when not in use underneath our highset house. Unfortunately, we did not use repelling ropes to suspend the 4wd rack from the beams under the house, so the ropes that were there, after a few jumps this time, well they broke, and like the nursery rhyme, baby came down only instead of a cradle to follow him, it was the roof rack and the timber door we were storing in that out of the way space.
It all landed on the base jumper's foot, thankfully not his neck.
The heel is BLACK.
The Dr. is highly amused, chuckling all the way through the child's telling him what he'd done this time.
The mother is rapidly aging and seriously considering a custom made Michellin Man suit for the boy.
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Queenslanders are not built for cold weather. It was 8 outside last night, it was 8 inside also.
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Chicken Stroganoff is an excellent comfort food!
I am thinking it is.
Either
A. Your on the childabuse watch list
B. They have a camera fixed on your house and saw you carry the boy up the front steps.
C. The impact reverberations from when the child hit the ground and then the large solid object fell on him reached the Dr.'s surgery.
D. They heard that horrific scream that came from your mouth, you know the one only dogs can hear, when you felt the house shake and just knew something awful was happening downstairs.
E. All of the above.
Anyway it's never a good thing. Not something you call your Grammie and boast about.
The crazieness continues without fail. You try and hold it back, you have lots of "Come to Jesus" talks with the boy about how the human body really is quite fragile and reasonably delicate.
It's the flying feeling that gets him everytime.
He decided to run and leap and swing on the roof rack that hangs when not in use underneath our highset house. Unfortunately, we did not use repelling ropes to suspend the 4wd rack from the beams under the house, so the ropes that were there, after a few jumps this time, well they broke, and like the nursery rhyme, baby came down only instead of a cradle to follow him, it was the roof rack and the timber door we were storing in that out of the way space.
It all landed on the base jumper's foot, thankfully not his neck.
The heel is BLACK.
The Dr. is highly amused, chuckling all the way through the child's telling him what he'd done this time.
The mother is rapidly aging and seriously considering a custom made Michellin Man suit for the boy.
____________________________________________________________________
Queenslanders are not built for cold weather. It was 8 outside last night, it was 8 inside also.
____________________________________________________________________
Chicken Stroganoff is an excellent comfort food!
18 May 2006
Officials and Insomnia
For starters the later makes pretty much evrything harder to deal with calmly. The elusiveness of sound sleep is like a fresh faced school boy trying to buy his first drink, never subtle or cool, invasive and downright annoying, indecisive and fleeting. Insomnia can drive you nutters, simple tasks become HUGE memory taxing affairs. For example, today after a week or so of my unwanted guest visiting and remaining with me, I could not recall ... HAD I put sandwiches in the lunchboxes? Or would my babies open the insulated packs only to find lovely pieces of fruit and muesli bars and a cookie to nourish their minds for the duration of the day? After a pantry check and the shock realization with the amount of bread left in the house, there was in no way any sandwich type material in the kids lunches, I did the sensible thing, ducked out to the bakery to buy a suitable penance ... the coveted Ham, Cheese and Mayo Twirl. Two giant sized dinner rolls lined with ham and cheese and a hint of mayo, then twisted to perfection and baked to there puffy heights. Ok. So it's a bribe, $1.90, and it's the get out jail free card, look Mummy brought fresh from the bakery a lovely roll so we can just all forget she failed to pop that sandwich in your lunchbox today! I'll blame it on the insomnia.
____________________________________________________________________
Can I just say the referee for the Champions League final ruined the match with his inablility to properly supervise the match. IT could have been a beautiful game, a match between two of the best classical teams in the game, but no, alas, one man's ineptitude squashed the opportunity. I just would have liked to have seen, of the two teams, which would have won in a fair match.
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Possum olympics should be restricted to skinny possums, so as not to wake the inhabitants as they stampede across the roof.
_____________________________________________________________________
____________________________________________________________________
Can I just say the referee for the Champions League final ruined the match with his inablility to properly supervise the match. IT could have been a beautiful game, a match between two of the best classical teams in the game, but no, alas, one man's ineptitude squashed the opportunity. I just would have liked to have seen, of the two teams, which would have won in a fair match.
____________________________________________________________________
Possum olympics should be restricted to skinny possums, so as not to wake the inhabitants as they stampede across the roof.
_____________________________________________________________________
06 May 2006
The new weight loss ....
IT took marraige, three kids, and an international relocation to finally acquire a decent backside where I did not have SPS, saggy pant syndrome. Low and behold four months of divorce proceedings and all that hard work is GONE! Poof. Puff of smoke and it vanished, bye-bye backside. Yet another small reason to malign divorce.
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But hey I'm still kicking butt on the soccer field.
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PASS the BUTTERWORMS is a worthy, light read.
_______________________________________________________________________
But hey I'm still kicking butt on the soccer field.
_______________________________________________________________________
PASS the BUTTERWORMS is a worthy, light read.
26 April 2006
Base Jumping
Recently, my child decided to climb a tree, this is not new to him, he's been doing it for years...
the fact that his sister was kicking buns all over the soccer pitch didn't really cross his mind at all, she's fine she's taking on all the boys just like she does in the backyard. He just wanted to get higher. Yes the tree is on a slope beside the pitch, and not necessarily the largest tree available,but hey, why not?
well he was to find out why not.
I was absorbed shall we say, in encouraging the sister to do her worst to the offending team opposing her - in the nicest way possible, really. Anyway.
I heard the CRACK as the branch broke, I saw periphirally, him fall and smack the ground fairly hard, it must have been the hardness that prompted the post fall comments - I'm sticking with that.
He didn't cry.
I did ask if he was ok.
I said all the motherly things about how you shouldn't be climbing the tree, you should be watching your sister, how many games has she watched you play in? Didn't I just ask you to get out of that other tree? Yes I should have specified that all trees were off limits.
He sat quietly for a thoughtful moment and then said
"you know mum, before I hit the ground it felt really great.... like I was flying."
PAUSE
"it was exactly the same as when I broke my arm, before I hit the ground it felt like I was FLYING." (he was thrown from a horse and managed to hang onto one rein and avoid hitting the fence)
So I know base jumping is in my future, thank goodness I've got time to prepare- mentally that is.
___________________________________________________________________
The arm is NOT broken only badly bruised.
Thank goodness they know him down at the Dr.'s surgery, our Dr. just asked "what was it this time?"
___________________________________________________________________
A Woman's Europe is a snazzy little read.
the fact that his sister was kicking buns all over the soccer pitch didn't really cross his mind at all, she's fine she's taking on all the boys just like she does in the backyard. He just wanted to get higher. Yes the tree is on a slope beside the pitch, and not necessarily the largest tree available,but hey, why not?
well he was to find out why not.
I was absorbed shall we say, in encouraging the sister to do her worst to the offending team opposing her - in the nicest way possible, really. Anyway.
I heard the CRACK as the branch broke, I saw periphirally, him fall and smack the ground fairly hard, it must have been the hardness that prompted the post fall comments - I'm sticking with that.
He didn't cry.
I did ask if he was ok.
I said all the motherly things about how you shouldn't be climbing the tree, you should be watching your sister, how many games has she watched you play in? Didn't I just ask you to get out of that other tree? Yes I should have specified that all trees were off limits.
He sat quietly for a thoughtful moment and then said
"you know mum, before I hit the ground it felt really great.... like I was flying."
PAUSE
"it was exactly the same as when I broke my arm, before I hit the ground it felt like I was FLYING." (he was thrown from a horse and managed to hang onto one rein and avoid hitting the fence)
So I know base jumping is in my future, thank goodness I've got time to prepare- mentally that is.
___________________________________________________________________
The arm is NOT broken only badly bruised.
Thank goodness they know him down at the Dr.'s surgery, our Dr. just asked "what was it this time?"
___________________________________________________________________
A Woman's Europe is a snazzy little read.
08 March 2006
Whooping Cough?
As it turns out, I wasn't so sore from the soccer match, well my ribs weren't anyway.
I carried myself off to physio to have her sort out the kinks, she asked me a few questions and sent me off for x-rays, broken ribs she thinks, best not to do anything until we know for sure if there are broken ribs in there. So go figure, who knew you could break a rib from whooping cough? Apparently everyone but me. I did think that rib was a little sore, but goodness everything is sore when you cough for weeks on end. And if I stopped every time something was a little bit uncomfortable, well would not much would get done around my house.
Whooping cough.
I carried myself off to physio to have her sort out the kinks, she asked me a few questions and sent me off for x-rays, broken ribs she thinks, best not to do anything until we know for sure if there are broken ribs in there. So go figure, who knew you could break a rib from whooping cough? Apparently everyone but me. I did think that rib was a little sore, but goodness everything is sore when you cough for weeks on end. And if I stopped every time something was a little bit uncomfortable, well would not much would get done around my house.
Whooping cough.
09 February 2006
Happy Dwarfins
My right big toe is swollen and bruised, and has only half a survivng nail, I sport an ice pack the size of Montana plastered to the left side of my rib cage, my right shoulder is tender to the touch and I have grazed my knee.
Why?
Why do this to a body that is aging?
Why run up and down an indoor court trying to stop a fella, much younger than myself, from shooting the soccer ball into the back of the net? I have no desire to score myself, but the stopping of the goals, ahhhhhh bring on the zealous unabashed joy.
My 3rd grader summed it up for me, "IT's those Happy Dwarfins, Mum she just loves them!"
Pretty much.
Why?
Why do this to a body that is aging?
Why run up and down an indoor court trying to stop a fella, much younger than myself, from shooting the soccer ball into the back of the net? I have no desire to score myself, but the stopping of the goals, ahhhhhh bring on the zealous unabashed joy.
My 3rd grader summed it up for me, "IT's those Happy Dwarfins, Mum she just loves them!"
Pretty much.
09 January 2006
Relaxed State of Mind
Camping in Australia has its own sedating effects on even the sharpest of minds.
My friends with their 2 boys and my 3 rowdy children and myself, spent 3 days at Harvey Bay, camping at the Scarness Caravan Park. My friends in their self-contained 8 seater caravan and the kids and I in our tent. (Thanks Mom and Dave by the way - we love the tent, it is fabulous and withstands HIGH WINDS.) We had travelled together for the nearly 7 hr drive north to Harvey Bay in the campervan, the 5 kids in the back and 3 adults up front, half of the kids had to ride facing backwards looking out the back of the caravan.
After days next to the ocean with the mind lulling waves rolling in and out, the sand therapy, it does in fact cling with the tenacity of superclue on a squatty body, an eventful trip yabbie-pumping, and oodles of sand flinging in the surf we packed up and headed home.
5 and 3/4 hours into the return trip to the big city, Brisbane, a very relaxed 7 yr old asked the grownups sitting up the front "hey, what's that big yellow thing following us? I can just see it out the back."
It was the canoe.
Sitting on the trailer which we had pulled all the way to Harvey Bay and nearly back.
So next time the Dr., friend, or random Joe tells you you need to relax and forget your troubles, head to Harvey Bay on the Queensland coast in Australia.
Results assured.
My friends with their 2 boys and my 3 rowdy children and myself, spent 3 days at Harvey Bay, camping at the Scarness Caravan Park. My friends in their self-contained 8 seater caravan and the kids and I in our tent. (Thanks Mom and Dave by the way - we love the tent, it is fabulous and withstands HIGH WINDS.) We had travelled together for the nearly 7 hr drive north to Harvey Bay in the campervan, the 5 kids in the back and 3 adults up front, half of the kids had to ride facing backwards looking out the back of the caravan.
After days next to the ocean with the mind lulling waves rolling in and out, the sand therapy, it does in fact cling with the tenacity of superclue on a squatty body, an eventful trip yabbie-pumping, and oodles of sand flinging in the surf we packed up and headed home.
5 and 3/4 hours into the return trip to the big city, Brisbane, a very relaxed 7 yr old asked the grownups sitting up the front "hey, what's that big yellow thing following us? I can just see it out the back."
It was the canoe.
Sitting on the trailer which we had pulled all the way to Harvey Bay and nearly back.
So next time the Dr., friend, or random Joe tells you you need to relax and forget your troubles, head to Harvey Bay on the Queensland coast in Australia.
Results assured.
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