Friends of the Zoo

What a good feeling! Lying in bed this morning with my wake-up cup of tea listening to the sound of rain falling outside. Feels like a long time since that happened. This is our home-grown rocket/rocquette, which I photographed to capture the rain, so look closely, will you? I'm sure you can see drops of it there somewhere! We have an excellent and delicious crop; just waiting for the tomatoes to ripen so that we can have a fully home-grown salad.

Yesterday I took the boys to the zoo. The good thing about being a Friend of The Zoo is that you can go there and not feel like you have to spend the whole day seeing everything. It's a big place, the Melbourne Zoo, and the boys were tuckered out from the walking, particularly once the morning heated up into what I think of as Sydney weather; 30 degrees and humid.

The meerkats. So cute.

Some new wire sculptures in the garden beds - I think they're fab.

Giraffe, and an elephant watching us have lunch.

We had to bypass the new tiger-cubs because of a toilet emergency, and after stopping by the butterfly house...

(Climber nearly attracted one to sit on his hand. Cherub got one on his hat.)

... we went to see the real elephants, including the new ones just delivered from Thailand. The Walk of the Elephants looks fantastic, as does the new Orangutan enclosure.

After 2 hours we were desperate to get out, all that walking and the sweaty heat tired the Climber with his lanky long legs, not to mention the Cherub, doing the whole walk on his little fat legs! Graduated from the stroller, he has. Another sign he's growing up.

Last night was my first night back teaching tap. I meant to start on Tuesday but after seeing the weather forecast (39 degree heat) I decided to postpone. Which was a good decision, because it got to around 42 degrees and there were power blackouts. It was fun to get the shoes back on and it was a good class.

Oh! And here's one for the grammar police . Watched news footage of Naomi Campbell's latest assault charge proceedings (On the SMH video news site, can't do the precise link for you but it's still there if you're interested) and the reporter said Campbell pled guilty. Pled!! That's not a word is it?

A meme and some JT.

This is one of Cherub's favourite books at the moment. Both boys can repeat large chunks of Charlie and Lola-isms. Climber can recite the list of foods Lola will not eat. Cherub talks about everything being his favourite and his best. So when he handed me this one for his bedtime story tonight and I asked Which one is this? expecting him to reel off the title, I was surprised to hear him tell me it was actually called: "Never Ever Touch My Rocket, Or Play With It". I think Lauren Child would have approved. (Have a look at her site, it's very cool.)

Having a whole punnet of raspberries in one go - that's not what you'd call a pig-out is it? Is it? Can't work out why I feel so guilty for scoffing, not sharing. It's not like the boys love raspberries that much. They were so nice. I couldn't stop..

Ewe are Here tagged me for a meme. So I've memed.

1. Do you like the look and the contents of your blog?

I do. I tweaked a blogger template to up the purple-ness and put in a personalized banner (design kudos to Aunty Cookie for the feet by the way).

I would say the contents are a very pristine version of my life. I don’t share the full extent of my angst for a few reasons. I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings, or upset their sensibilities. I don’t want to be sued. And because I started this as a personal historical record I’d rather not look back on it in 40 years (assuming I find a clever way to archive it) and think oh my God what a whingeing, self-obsessed pain-in-the-arse. Because on the whole, we are happy. This is a happy time of my life.

2. Does your family know about your blog? Yes.

3. Can you tell your friends about your blog? Yes

4. Do you just read the blogs of those who comment on your blog?

Well I tend to read theirs’ FIRST!! But no, I jump around a fair bit. I like to follow up funny comments on other blogs.

5. Does your blog positively affect your mind?
Hell, yeah. There’s the writing for brain exercise and Alzheimer’s prevention, there’s the venting as therapy, and there’s the happy and connected feeling when I get comments. It’s good stuff.

6. What does the number of visitors to your blog mean?
That I’m slightly more popular than I was 6 months ago?

7. Do you imagine what other bloggers look like?
I like knowing what they look like but I’m useless at the imagining stuff.

8. Do you think blogging has any real benefit?
Apart from being cheaper than therapy? I know that there are blogs that raise a lot of social and political issues and I enjoy reading them. But I’m going to nominate a smaller benefit. Listening. Blogging is a chance to have your say uninterrupted, and seriously, there are not a lot of opportunities in real life for that luxury. Particularly when parenthood has shredded my capacity for clear and ordered thought. My 5-year-old completes my sentences for me some days. So to set down my ideas, articulately and without interruption, and then to receive thoughtful feedback is a great thing.

9. Do you think that the blogosphere is a stand alone community separated from the real world?
We all live in the real world so how could that be?

10. Do some political blogs scare you? Do you avoid them?
It’s all food for thought. I’m not always hungry though.

11. Do you think that criticizing your blog is useful?
Why would you bother? If you don’t like the program, turn off the telly. No point complaining to the TV Guide.

12. Have you ever thought what would happen to your blog in case you died?
Sort of. Because my plan is to archive it, so that if the kids or grandkids are interested they can check it out.

13. Which blogger had the greatest impression on you?
I read a lot of blogs that I really like and they all have different impressions. Some make me laugh, some make me want to read more books, some make me wish I knew how to knit, sew or craft, some make me wish I was smarter, and some of them I’d just like to hang out with. It’s all good.

Although. I read one famous blogger and I was a bit gobsmacked by the fact that she had a list of presents that she and her son wanted so that her adoring blog-readers could buy them for her if they wished. Talk about big time.

14. Which blogger do you think is the most similar to you?
Well, we’re all very different really, but I like to think the people on my blogroll are on the whole kindred spirits.

15. Name a song you want to listen to.

Whoa. Is it just me or does this question belong in a whole other meme? However, this week I'm liking Sexyback by Justin Timberlake. Just because it makes me want to shake my groove thing. The film clip is very James Bond.

I'm tagging Tracey and Joanne.

Back from the Beach.

Is anyone sick of seeing blog pictures of Australian families cavorting happily on the beach? I hope not, because here come ours!

We've just returned from a 3-day stay at my Aunt and Uncle's house, where we had a magnificent stay. That's the famous bridge from "Seachange" in the background. And somebody else's wonderful sandcastle in the foreground, which my kids had well and truly demolished by the time we left the beach that day.

The boys (all three of them) hunted assiduously for shells. We'll need to find a clever crafty way to use them, like sticking them on a photo-frame. Or we may just put them out in the cubby house and forget about them.

There was no question of me flaunting my legs because the weather was cold - I never made it into the water, and Cherub declined after one attempt. Climber and Fixit didn't seem to notice the temperature.

Cherub skipped happily along the sand, or climbed over rocks or chased seagulls shouting "bottoms" at them (a corruption of "muddumps" which for some reason is what the Climber shouts at birds. No-one knows why.)

Climber enjoyed running up and down the beach too.

My cousin took Fixit and Climber out in a canoe up-river. We inspected rockpools. Climber jumped over waves. We went to some local markets and bought jam and soap. We ate wonderfully well. We played some scrabble. We watched the cricket and wondered if New Zealand vs England might produce an exciting game instead of the one-sided matches that involved the Australian team. I even managed some computer-time where I checked out H&B's account of the Meeting In Real Life between members of what sounds like a low-rent rap group : House, Lazy and Stomper. (For the record, I don't think I can add to her excellent account of the evening beyond saying it was enormous fun and we'll probably do it again!)

The boys shared a mattress, but after the first night we put them both up the same end. This head-to-toe arrangement you see here was disastrous because in the middle of the night the Climber's long legs kicked all over little Cherub who then woke up crying heartily, insisting Climber sleep in our bed, which woke the Climber and made him cry noisily too. Took us over half an hour to stop the tears and get them back to sleep.

Every time we drove downhill the boys played Corolla-coaster. AAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhh....

I toyed with the idea of staying there longer, just me and the kids. But Cherub was proving difficult, because of what I suppose you'd call psychological constipation. The kid won't let it out and it was difficult to manage away from home.

We arrived back home at half-past nine on Sunday night, tired and happy.

Over the Fence

We have new neighbours! With matching kids! And the parents seem really nice! Next-door-Boy is 4 months younger than the Climber (instant best friends), Next-door-Girl is 6 months older than the Cherub, and they have a bonus baby (but we won't try and match her)! They moved in last weekend and already Climber and Next-door-Boy are obsessed with each other - we've been playing kid-swapsies ever since we introduced ourselves. It's great. All the kids seem to be talented climbers so we're seeing a lot of this:

Next-door-baby is being held aloft by her mother I must add. She is a good climber, I've seen her get onto our kitchen table in under a minute, but she's not THAT good.

I've just been sent a couple of photos from the tap-dancing gig we did pre-Christmas, so I'm sharing. The theme was "The Twelve Days of Christmas" where different local dance groups represented each of the days, in front of a big choir and a brass band. So there was the all-boy Greek dancing troupe appearing as the Lords-a-Leaping, a ballet school as the Seven Swans and you see us here as the Five Gold Rings. We got a fantastic reception, including one enthusiast yelling out as we danced "you guys are GOOD!!" and spontaneous applause at the end of our bit (none of the other groups received that much acclaim. Allright yes, I'm skiting a bit but it's nice to be appreciated...)


In other big news, I went out last night!! AT NIGHT!! For a meal and a drink with a girlfriend. It's medicinal, I had to do it to combat my ever-growing cabin fever caused by school holiday over-exposure to my beloved children. Thank goodness creche opened again this week. I love you Cherub but I am enjoying the peace..
AND I have another girls' night out on Thursday ... ;-)

After that, we're going to the BEACH!! Just for the weekend. We're all a bit excited. My aunt and uncle have a nice big holiday house and they are very generous with their invitations. Unlike Fixit's place of employment where he had to scrounge to get one measly day off. He's a motorbike mechanic see, and it's all hands on deck during summer because every motorcyclist in Melbourne needs their bike fixed pronto.

So apart from it being disgustingly hot today and tomorrow, life is good.

The Inner Prince

I am quite conversant with the notion of an Inner Princess. Mine's been lurking there for years, even in my radical 20's when I had my punk haircut (what we used to call a 'spike' in the olden days with ... wait for it ... a long-ish fringe that had been spiral permed. Oh yes.) Despite all my feminist reading and studies, my lefty leanings, my desire to bring up my boys to treat women as people, she's there. She even seems to have survived motherhood. Actually I think motherhood re-activated her. Something to do with suddenly becoming the equivalent of a scullery-maid; you know, what with the unceasing waiting hand & foot on someone else , cleaning up all the mess and smell, and realising that nobody (not even me) pays me as much attention as previously because the focus is all on the children (and why not, after all? They're infinitely adorable.)

Some things my Inner Princess loves:

• Adoration.
• Articulate expressions of adoration.
• Receiving flowers.
• Dressing Up.
• Being pampered.
• Time and means to indulge in aesthetic pursuits such as reading, writing, dancing, thinking.

Things she's not so keen on:

• Housework.
• Living in mess and chaos, knowing that it's her responsibility to deal with it.
• Getting dirty hands.
• Listening to other people's burps, particularly if they say yabba-dabba-doo whilst eructating.
• Being too hot.
• Having to wear daggy old clothes that no longer fit properly because child-bearing forever changed her waistline.

She's very shallow and you can see it's a good thing I repress her most of the time. Sometimes I think she wouldn't know a good thing if she tripped over him whilst he was bringing her a cup of tea in bed every morning, and always treating her nicely and valuing her opinions, and NOT being a drug addict or an alcoholic or a wife-beater or a terrible father or even a dickhead.

During discussions of one of the Inner Princess' pet peeves, someone raised the notion of the Inner Prince. Which stunned me a bit. Why had I never assumed men had Inner Princes? Do they in fact have Inner Princes? Yes, according to one source.


So that got me thinking. What does the Inner Prince want? To fight the dragon?


To be waited on hand and foot? To be master of all they survey? To ride the fastest steed in the kingdom?

Does he exist at all? Do men bury/repress their Inner Prince? And do the Inner Royalties seek each other out? What does the Inner Prince want?

Discuss.

A question of phonetics.

There's this sound that kids make and I don't know enough about phonetics to write it down so you recognise it. It's that thwarted, not-fair noise they make. You might write it as "ohh" but when I read that I feel it would rhyme with no so I don't think that's right. A bit closer to the or in for maybe? Or the aw in saw? Do you know the noise I mean? Please feel free to post your phonetic suggestions.

I like this noise. Even though 9 times out of 10 I am the one causing the kids to make it. Currently, I'm enjoying the difference in the way they make it . Climber (nearly 6) makes it almost good-humouredly, particularly if he's just made what we both know is an ambit-claim request, as in:

CLIMBER: May I have some icecream? (well, sometimes he says Can I have but he has been known to use May I so he gets the benefit of the doubt here)
SG: No!
CLIMBER: Ohhh (or/aw) .. Why not?
SG: Because it's nearly dinnertime.
CLIMBER: Ohhh (or/aw) .. Not fair..

All said without malice or indeed any carry-on as he wanders back happily to his lego. It is almost like he makes the noise automatically as the fitting thing to say when a parent denies his wants. He doesn't even bother to sound cross when he makes it. But he always makes it.

Cherub, on the other hand, makes much more dramatic use of the noise. He is, after all, 3, and coming to the height of his small-person powers. So should I say No to one of his requests (usually a request to watch telly) he hurls himself face downward at the nearest surface, raises his voice several decibels and declaims Ohh (or/aw) after which there could be a cry of Not Fair or noisy sobs or both.

I think this photo highlights the difference in their personalities! Little Master Dramatic and the Laid-back Dude. This is them farewelling Grandma Margaret at the airport.

She came to stay with us over New Year. Apart from catching up with us, she also got to hang out with her brothers and sisters, because one sister turned 60 and one of my cousins got married. Our family background is Catholic so there are lots of cousins and they nearly all get married. So we get to see Mum fairly regularly even though she lives in Sydney.

One of these days we'll make it up to Sydney to visit her. In the meantime, she'll be back again for the Climber's 6th birthday and in March when another cousin is due to tie the knot!

My mother hasn't yet had the opportunity to be the mother of the bride or groom. None of her 3 have said "I do" as yet. Possibly because we weren't raised as Catholic the way the cousins were? I don't know. But my brother is getting married this year. On a cruise ship, at his fiancee's request. I feel like a cruise-ship wedding is the equivalent of eloping. Hardly anyone attends because you have to stump up at least $2,000 per person just to get on the boat. But it now sounds like there will be some sort of wedding dinner in Melbourne when the cruise ship swings by so that the large extended family can say "congratulations" to the happy couple.

As for my sister and I ... well I suppose you could say she's engaged. But due to her son's diabetes, her second pregnancy and other complications, their wedding just hasn't happened.

And me? Well nobody has ever asked me. I know, hard to believe.

I'm happy not being married as such.

But my Inner Princess is slightly insulted that no-one's ever asked her..

You could even say that she's feels a bit, you know, like it's Not Fair ... I can hear her now, actually. She's saying ohhh!

Polar Bear Eating Marshmallows During A Blizzard

Help! I've gone white...

Edited to say: Oh! Wait a minute. I'm back.That's good.
Blogger blanked me for a little while there.
But she's talking to me again.