Office Chick for a day (ok stockroom, but still)

As per every evening, I asked Marty how work was going last night.  He told me that it is super busy, as they are behind in their stocktake counting by about a week.  Hmm..Jaimee has swimming at school this week, so my services are not required - yet I still have Luke and Kate booked in for childcare that morning.  I could have quite easily laid on the couch with a book or a movie (I am not going to lie and say that I would have spent the golden 'alone time doing something constructive)....or I could help out at my darling husband's workplace for the morning.  I offered my services, not really expecting to be taken up on the offer, but he must have been feeling a bit desperate because he said "if you want to, that would be great".  Huh.  Guess I am off to FL Bone for stocktake!

I woke up feeling rather excited about my adventure back into a real office space.

 I worked as an audio-typist/receptionist for a year in the UK, and really loved the office environment...the dressing up in 'fancy clothes and heels', the banter with the others in the office, the sense of accomplishment as I churned out typed reports and letters all day long, and of course the coffee sitting on my desk and sweeties in my top drawer.  As a teenager, I used to work my school holidays doing data entry at both my parents workplaces for $20 a day.  When I was 14 this seemed like a good deal.  When it was with mum, I was paraded around the super flash offices and shown off, then got to watch a movie in town after a mornings work and the best bit - a lunch from the Chinese place downstairs (mum worked in a highrise building in Auckland City).  With dad (who worked for a hardware company) it was a pie from the lunch bar down the road, a treat from the snack bar, oh...and again, the joy that comes with being paraded around to the work crew who treated me like I was just the sweetest thing on earth!

So I carefully picked out a trendy office outfit to wear, then changed my mind several times and finally got myself sorted.  I was just popping on the red lipstick to match my tights, when Marty came in.  He raised an eyebrow.  "Isn't that a bit flash to wear?"  He reminded me that I was going to be out in the concrete stockroom counting dusty handles and locks, not sitting at a computer sipping coffee.  I stood my ground - hey, I am the girl who wears heels to playgroup, I can wear what I like.  Several minutes later, I was asking him for reassurance that my outfit wasn't too much.  He laughed.  I did not get changed, I wasn't going to dash my office glamour vision now.

I dropped off all the kids at their various school/daycare/granma's house and walked into the office ready to go.  The only two females in the place thought it was lovely that I was there to help.  The guys thought it was hilareous that I would even want to help and joked with Marty  "no snogging in the aisles"!  Typical hardware humor!    The boss walked past me working, then took a double glance when he realised I was not his employee.  "Have you come to help...finally, someone who can count!" he joked.

Marty put me straight to work, and 2 hours later I was still happily counting handles, and then cellotaping a bit of paper with the number onto the box...yep, that is their system.  I had some great suggestions for updating and speeding up the way they do things, to which Marty's workmate (very nicely too) explained that in order to do that, they need to take ALL the stock down from the shelves and re-arrange it...something they would love to do but just can't spare the time to do it.  We are talking wall to (high) ceiling shelves packed with tiny boxes.  I admit, probably not the easiest thing to update!  As I looked up at the towering shelves of brass and steel, I wondered out loud at one stage what would happen in an earthquake in here.  I was told "don't even think about it...it's not a good thought".  Gulp.

At 10am, I was told it was 'smoko' time and my coffee and freshly baked nacho scone awaited me.  I perched on the edge of Marty's desk in the office for a few minutes before one of the guys offered me a seat.  Marty got in trouble for not noticing I needed one!  Hehe, you tell him boys!  I was told that Marty was being unusually well behaved while I was there too...makes me wonder, since they have known Marty for longer than I have (Marty has been with the company since he was 18).  One of the guys even told me that he taught Marty to drive!

At 11am, I was due to collect Luke from Granma.  But I was reluctant to leave...it was so peaceful out the back, opening box after box of hardware and counting the contents.  No children, no housework, just a nice simple job.  And I even got to see my husband occasionally as he worked near me.  I ran over the road to the library where they were, and wondered if she might like to have Luke for a while longer....thankfully, Granma loves the time with her grandson, and was very happy to take him for while longer.  Yay! I happily went back to the dusty storeroom.

The best bit? At 12pm, I got to have a 'lunch break' with Marty.  We strolled through town hand in hand, enjoying the sunshine and each other.  It was so nice, I offered to come again next Wednesday.  But alas, my services will no longer be required then.  Hmm...maybe I could convince them to start re -organising the stockroom....

One day...

I turn off the TV after watching 12 year olds cook exotic sounding pasta from scratch.  I then look outside to the terribly flaking window frames on the mold specked tired house.  The house is framed by ugly gutters and a messy  garden.  Inside, I glance over at the pile of half collected research for my family tree and then sigh as I open a 1950s kitchen cupboard complete with original flower wallpaper on the inside.

My head starts to spin as I consider the list.  The lino that is peeling off in the laundry, which also has the very trendy cupboard doors that are jammed in the holes because they have fallen off their hinges.  The wallpaper we purchased over 2 years ago for our lounge is still in a corner of the shed.  The workout equipment that motivated me once upon a time now is used only in short bursts after a guilty indulgence.  The oven that only has 2 working elements and no handle.  The bookcases jammed full of unread books is a sad reality.  The computer games I purchased but never have the time to play gather dust.  The guitar I don't really know how to play sits in a corner.  The golf clubs I would love to learn how to use are collecting cobwebs.  The list goes on....

We have conquered some of our quests.  The bedrooms have all been painted, and the bathroom has had a (very cheaply done) quick revamp.  We transformed a room that had a built in working miniature train set into a sunny cheerful guest/craft room easily enough.  I preserve tomato soup and blackberry jam, the photo albums are up to date and I have finally achieved the ultimate goal - doing daily bible studies.

Before children, I could not sit down if I could see a spot of lint on the carpet or a sticky patch on a coffee table.  Now the basic housework gets done thanks to a strict schedule I maintain so that I can at least sleep with the peace that comes from knowing that the vacuuming WILL be done on Wednesday, or the linen WILL be changed on Tuesday, even if it lookst a bit sad now.  I still can't rest easy if there are papers lying around the house, but now I just shove them into the tray on the desk that I purchased just for that reason.

I try and remember that there will be a day when I will get around to all these jobs.  One day we will have the money, the time and the knowledge....ok, maybe not the knowledge.  Let's face it, we are just not DIY people.   I have no idea how to wallpaper or renevate a kitchen, or even how to prepare for painting the window frames.  My poor parents shake their head in wonder, how can this be when I grew up with parents who could do all these things and more.  I actually lived in a house that was literally nothing more then two mouldy old empty shells of a villa when they started fixing it up.    I can't think of anything worse to do with my weekends personally, but I guess at some point I will have to do something about the state of our deteriorating 1950s home.  One day we will seek the expertise to help us with these issues.

In the meantime, I have to turn my blinkers on a bit and concentrate on the more important and pressing task to hand - raising my three beautiful children, and being a loving and giving wife.  As Jaimee said this morning (when Kate admired a house we drove past): she loves our house because it has a playroom.   What more could a girl want then a room which mummy has given over to the girls as a school/home/shop.  I bake with Kate every week, I play peek a boo with my son, I sit down and do homework with Jaimee every day.  I make library trips, teach cartwheels and how to plant a vegetable garden.  These things are much more important today then doing up our kitchen.

However....I will attempt to make pasta from scratch this week.  If a 12 year old can learn to do that one, so can I!

The Craft Room

 After one inspiring afternoon with a card making friend late last year, I came home and transformed our guest room into a craft room for all my card making 'stuff'.  Of course, like any new project, this led to some shopping and some awesome birthday and Christmas presents this year!

Over the last couple of weekends, I have been enjoying this sunny and quiet space that I have claimed as my territory (it is detached from the house) and indulging in a wee spot of 'me time'.        Today I plugged my ipod into the speakers, selected my favourite playlist and got stuck right in there.  Marty was watching a Liverpool game, Luke was sleeping, and the girls were busy with (another) game of schools.  Perfect time to make cards.

  I don't have the patience to do the long term project of scrapbooking, and I couldn't be selective enough about photos anyway, but card making is the perfect craft activity for me.  I am a planner, so I just love organising the layout of a card just as much as anything.  I like to see the finished product rather quickly, so I like that I can finish a nice card within half an hour.  And I, like most teachers, love stationary...so all the pretty bits and pieces I can add to my collection, especially beautiful papers, are such a joy to buy and use!  

There is something really awesome about receiving a card that someone put obvious time and energy into creating.  I have had many a handmade card sent to me, and I always leave them on display as long as possible, and I admit that I have been known to sometimes re-use the card (by gluing it onto a new card) so that someone else can share the joy of a beautiful thing!  I can waste hours searching through various card making magazines, blogs and 'google images' for inspiration and ideas, and have learnt to take photos of some of my creations so that I can enjoy the feeling of joy that  comes from having made something pretty for a bit longer.  

My girls just love to come and watch me at work, and although this means giving up the solitude and peace, I remember watching my own mother at work in her art room growing up, and I allow them to watch.  They always give me lots of praise and encouragement anyway!  Last weekend, I even felt generous enough to help them make a card each.  I made them put thought into it, otherwise there would have been glue and glitter everywhere with not much else! They had to choose a template from a picture, decide on the paper for the background and choose their embellishments and stamps.  They were so proud of the results too, and gave them away to their cousin and friend at the Ballet the next day.  I hope that I can pass on a little bit of a hobby for them in the future years to come...this might even be something we do together as adults.   

The Driving Test

I hate tests.

Always have, always will.  I am much better with assignments.  At school, I got As for my assignments and barely scrapped by on my exams.  Exams just make me get all nervous and forget everything under the time pressure.


I especially hated that I had to undergo a test as an adult, against my will really, with a stranger eyeballing my every move.  I didn't get my learners until I was married, and only went through the ordeal of learning to drive and sitting my restricted when I was 7 months pregnant with Jaimee and facing a life stuck at home if I didn't go through with learning to drive.

So you may understand why I had been putting off sitting my full licence for...oh about 5 years now.It didn't really bother me about having to be home by 10pm, and I can take my own kids on my restricted, so who cares.  But now Jaimee is at school, and we have a people mover, I realised that the time had come to get this thing sorted.  Especially after Jaimee's teacher had to drive my car while I sat beside her in the passenger seat on a class trip last year.  How embarrassing.

So I booked it in, feeling a little smug as I had managed to book in the test AFTER they swapped around the full and restricted tests a bit (meaning I was doing another 20 minute test like I had done to get my restricted) and also just days BEFORE the give way rules changed over!  Good timing, me thinks.

I didn't sleep a wink last night.  All I could think about was railway crossings, road works and blind spots.  And then, to top it all off, the wettest darn downpour this year.    I 'woke' up with my heart racing and a sore tummy.  Oh the joy of anticipation.

When I got to the testing station, I realised I had left my license in the car (I had already done my paperwork two days earlier).  So I sat there wondering whether I should run and get it, or whether I should stay in the room in case the tester was looking for me being there the mandatory 10 minutes early.  I didn't leave.  She didn't come early.  When she did come, she asked for my license.  I ran to the car.  Not a great start on the nerves.

Luckily, the tester was very lovely.  She told me that she had a daughter who was also putting off sitting her full as I told her about my three sweet young children on the way to the car (hey, had to get a sympathy vote after forgetting my license!).  I did inform her I was nervous, and that I do have a tendency to get my right and left confused under pressure.  She gave me a pen and told me to write a big L on my left hand.  It worked too!

Of course, it decided to rain during my test.  Or should I say drizzle.  I spent half the test trying to work out whether to put my wipers on steady or just occasionally.  It changed depending on which way we were facing.

I constantly checked things off mentally as I drove...speed...mirror glance (my driving instructor recommended M.I.B - checking Mirrors every time I used my Indicator or Brake)...side streets...stop sign (3 seconds mandatory).  I  got down to 30km for the roadworks (pointless of course as 10 metres down the road it was back to 50km) and remembered to check the railway crossing.  There was one moment of panic as a kind driver tried to wave me on when I was meant to be giving way to him.  I returned the wave with a nervous glance at the instructor, who seemed to be constantly writing on her pad.  Gulp.  Did I mention I hate tests?

As I pulled up at the testing station with a sigh of relief that it was all over, the lovely instructor told me "I am pleased to let you know that you did pass..." I waited for the BUT.  Nope, she just added "Nice drive".

Whew.  Done.  Wishing her safe driving tests for the rest of the day, I drove happily off with my new paper in my hot little hand to break the news to the husband that now I can stay out late and drive strangers.  Wahoo!

growing UP

Luke is 10 months old this week.  Now that he has his balance sorted crawling around, I can sit him up safely, giving him a whole new view on his world.  Luke has discovered the joys of "peek a BOO", round and round the garden, clapping songs and rolling a ball.  It is just delightful, but kind of sad because he is growing so fast.  

I have to really watch him like a hawk now, as soon as he sees an opportunity, he beelines it for a forbidden area such as the girls room or the cat food.  Today while I was helping Jaimee to a word find, I suddenly realised that Luke was very quiet in the lounge....yep, sure enough he wasn't even in the lounge! He had silently crawled right past me and was very busily involved in an experiment which involved putting the cat food into the cat water bowl.  Delightful mess.  

Now that he has figured out kneeling, he is all set to get places previously unreachable.    This is one of his newest discoveries - the cat door.  Such a great toy.  He spends ages here, pushing it open and calling out the door.  He gets a real fright and bursts into tears though when a cat bursts through, like is about to occur in this photo!  He has also jammed his fingers a couple of times and had to be rescued.  

On Saturday morning, I captured this 'cute as pie' moment.  I had just informed Marty that Luke quite likes to play with balls, and the next thing I know, a full on game of catch had been organised.  Luke was joining in, giggling every time a ball bounced into his tummy, and then waving his arms furiously until he let go somehow! The girls,(always little mothers) wanted to help him every time he got hold of the ball, Marty had to remind them again and again to let the poor child do it all by himself.

I went out Saturday morning to help mum with her gardens, and when I got home Marty greeted me with the news that Luke had STOOD UP in his cot!!!  WHAT?!  No deal.  Get back down Luke.  You are not allowed to discover standing just yet.  Much to my disgust, I witnessed this new trick for myself that afternoon, and as you can see by Luke's face, he was not very impressed that I left him like this to go and get the camera.  After all, he may have discovered how to get up, but getting DOWN is a whole new lesson.   

Ah, my baby boy....he has found his voice at the same time and is often calling "mum-mum-mum" at me, or yelling something unidentifiable out to the cat or his sisters.  Daddy is a word to be learnt, but he certainly knows his father and adores him.  After all, daddy applauds when he stands while mummy sheds a tear.

Road Trip

  On Sunday, I was up at 6am (see previous post to see how rare this is!) feeding Luke and preparing for our much anticipated road trip to Palmerston North to see "Angelina Ballerina's Big Auditon", performed by the NZ Royal Ballet.  This was organised by wonderful Aunty Cheryl last year (who lives in Palmie), and we had a whole gaggle of giggles (this is what you call a group of 2-7 year old girls) with us, all excited to see a dancing mouse.  

We picked up the girls out of bed and straight into the car, still in their PJS, and picked up Aunty Shona and Brianna, who had to sneak out of the house so little brother wouldn't grumble - this was a girls only ballet trip.... although Luke needed feeding, so he had to come...and that meant Marty had to drive us down so Luke had a babysitter.  Marty didn't really mind - he got to go and play PS3 with the boys while us girls were at the theatre!   It was a chatty trip down as the excited girls giggled with each other at being up so early.  

Treat number one was McDonalds for breakfast in Dannevirke.   Hot cakes and Hot Chocolate - yummy!     I had mine cold after doing all three girls hair in 'very special zig zag' plaits for the occasion. They hopped into their most beautiful dresses and gave us a quick ballet demonstration of what they might see.  Kate is determined to be a ballerina when she grows up, but she doesn't want to do ballet lessons at all, so that could be interesting.  

After breakfast, we continued the journey with the now rather impatient girls wiggling in the backseat as we winded around the road, making me feel rather sick...I don't remember the last time I had McD's for breakfast, I find it sits heavy in my stomach all day long, which it proved to do yet again. Ah well, we would soon be there.  

At the theatre, we met up with the rest of our group, including our good friend Anne-Marie and her daughter Ella, who is in Jaimee's class.  The girls were all bouncing up and down by this stage with excitement.  I caved and purchased a programme at $15 (crazy what they can charge), but it proved money well spent as I was able to fill my girls in on the story of the ballet they were about to watch.  We had to make promises to the other girls in the group that I would photocopy the colouring in pages in the middle for them all upon our return home!  Next exciting bit - the seats.  Forget the ballet, it is much more exciting that the seats flip up and down.  It's like a fun park in here.  

A gaggle of giggles awaits the ballet!

 They were a little confused when after the first 10 minutes there was still not one word spoken by the dancing mice.  Jaimee whispered to me "Can't they talk mummy?"  I explained that in the ballet, they use music and dance actions to tell the story....but then of course, I wrecked that by whispering what was happening into their ears during each scene.  At the end of the first act, they turned to me with panic in their eyes "is that it mummy?".  Nope, I reassured them there was another act to go.  

"Oh yeah, the dancers are just practicing" Jaimee said with a look of smugness on her face as she explained confidently to Kate.  I gently told her that actually they are probably resting and having a drink after all that dancing.  I was most impressed that they sat through it all like little ladies, although quite possibly this had something to do with their going to bed at 10pm the night before while we were at a quiz night...

After the show, our gaggle of giggles danced and twirled all the way to the shopping mall, to the great amusement of every passerby.  We met the boys and had subway for lunch (I couldn't handle fast food after breakfast) and then the girls were allowed to go shopping with the pocket money they had been saving.  I had made a shopping list for Jaimee with all the things she has been saying "I want..." over the last few weeks, so with list in one hand and her handbag in the other, off the girls went to the "1,2,3 mart" where a whole shop of fun awaited.   She managed to get just about everything on her list (a white board, a chapstick, glue sticks and headbands) and Kate choose to get the same things as Jaimee (how predictable, but fine by me - no fights!).  They paid for their purchases, and then I attempted to go shopping for myself with a bunch of little girls in tow. Yeah, that is not so easy.  They played hide and seek in the  clothes racks while I tried on a couple of things.  I think we did about 2 shops before we gave up and headed home.  

What a great day it was though! The kids all slept on the way home, no doubt dreaming of dancing mice and shopping malls.   

I don't do mornings.

For lack of a better subject to blog about at the moment (as I am sure you are sick of reading about vomit and tonight Marty had his turn so I will just ignore that one), but knowing that I would like to record something at least twice a week from our lives, today I choose to talk about mornings.

I am NOT a morning person.  Between the hours of 11pm and 7.30am, I am pretty much a zombie.  "What! You are the most bubbly lively energetic person ever Nikki?!" you say?  Come see me at 7am.  It is not pretty.  There is no photo.  There is an unspoken rule in our marriage.  I do the daytime thing....Marty does the night time thing.  I think this is only fair since he gets to spend his days sitting on a chair.  I do occasionally take my turn (not at all grumpily....ok....maybe a little grumpily), like when he has been up 5 times already or is sick.  But it is a rare occasion.

Marty on the other hand, copes rather well in the mornings.  He still reckons that he is not a 'morning person' - but I reckon that anyone who chooses willingly (and for no external reason at all) to get up at 6.30am on a Saturday morning when the kids are all asleep still so that he can go out in the cold and ride a bike (again, for no external reason at all) for an hour or so....well, he has to be a bit of a morning person. I would much rather stay in bed...so I do.

Here is a typical evening to morning in our house:

9.30pm - I am considering having another snack and watching another TV show that I taped.  Marty is considering going to bed.  Sometimes I talk him into another show, sometimes he goes to bed and I stay up or read a book.

10.30pm - I  get ready for bed and perhaps even read for a while...yep, even at 10.30pm I am still willing to open my book.  Marty may be reading in bed at this time, or is already asleep.

11pm - I collapse into a deep sleep, not to waken for anyone.  Yes, that is right...Me, a mother, does not normally hear my children when they wake in the night.  Maybe something is wrong with me.  I used to...when they were babies.  But over the years, Marty has proved himself a very reliable baby monitor, and so my body has learnt to leave him to it.  Or thats my excuse anyway and I am sticking to it.

2am - Luke wakes up crying.  He has probably wet himself through again.  If Marty has not already gotten up, I may eventually be roused and hear him.  I pretend to be asleep and 'accidentally roll over and nudge Marty in the back as I do so'.  Marty normally gets up....sometimes I may have to repeat the accidental nudge harder or pull his hair or something in my sleep....but it normally works.  (Side note: He tries this trick occasionally when he is really tired or has gotten up several times already without me knowing...and I get so so grumpy at him for doing it! I am aware how selfish  I am at night).

2.30am - Marty brings Luke in after unsuccessfully trying to get him to sleep.  Luke immediately starts whimpering and holding his arms out as soon as he sees me.  Drat, nothing will distract him once he sees me.  In zombie mode, I half sit up and reach for him.  He launches himself backwards and opens his mouth expectantly.  I latch him on and then go back to sleep while he feeds.  Repeat other side.  I try and work out how to make my body move so that I can get him back into his own bed.  Willing it to move is not working...finally I force myself up.

7am - Marty wakes me up with a hot coffee and cereal beside me.  He got up half an hour ago, but I have no idea of this as I was still FAST asleep.   I ignore breakfast and want to go back to sleep, but the knowledge that the coffee will be cold soon and the cereal soggy is to much to ignore.  I get out of bed and as far as the heater on the floor before I sit down again to eat breakfast, eyes still half shut as I try and pray while I sip my coffee.    If Luke wakes up, he is fed and then deposited with daddy until I have finished my quiet time.

7.20am - I have finished my breakfast and my daily Bible devotional/journaling time.  I have still not said a word to anyone, and I am still half asleep.   My family will not disturb me until about 7.30am - they know not to mess with mummy before she ventures out of the bedroom (Actually, Jaimee is following in my footsteps, we have to force her awake at about 7.30am).

7.45am - I emerge from my hibernation, shiny and fresh smelling, dressed, painted and decorated.  I am ready to morph into super mum.

...... Until 11pm tonight, I am on duty.  

And just in time for a quick kiss from my husband before he leaves for work

As I sat here writing all of the above....I am well aware that my husband has just vomited again.  I guess I will be doing the night shift tonight.  I just hope he feels better in the morning!

No Mummy

This afternoon, we started the usual Homework routine.  Jaimee choose to start with her book, so we sat down and she read to me, groaning as I encouraged her to use expression and to read fluently  (see my other blog for the reason why we are working on this area)!    We then moved on to mathletics, where Jaimee lost her "oomph" and tired of it after only doing one set of questions.  I encouraged her and coached her through a second 'gold bar' of questions before we gave it in.

Finally, we were up to the spelling....but it was clear that Jaimee needed a wee break before this (and some motivation), so I dug out some of my own old school books I had kept and showed her how mummy used to write and draw when I was little.  She found this fascinating, and made me read out some of my old stories that I wrote.

We both had a giggle as we read my stories about Nikki who shrunk, found herself in a toy maze where there was a talking cat (who had two kittens) and then they all fought lots of battles together before she grew in size again and her mummy let her keep the cat and kittens and they all lived happily ever after.

Jaimee attempted to write her own story after being motivated by this.  She got about two lines written: "Gigi was playing with her toys when she suddenly heard a noise.  She was surprised!"....before she lost interest - far too much work involving the spelling and handwriting for all those words!

Back to the homework.  I called out words, Jaimee wrote them out.  After I marked them, I wrote out the ones she got wrong (3 words) and asked her to write each word out 5 times as I walked back to the kitchen where I was preparing dinner.  Now, this is nothing new, we do this spelling routine all the time with great results.  Jaimee sweetly called out "Come look mummy" and then skipped away to the TV.  This is what I found on the paper:

HAHAHAHA! I cracked up laughing and made Marty come look.  I guess she has had enough homework for one day, fair enough!  

In other news, about 10 minutes later Kate upchucked all over the (newish) lounge carpet.....poor child, this was her first vomit ever (how we made it to 4 years old without any is a miracle) and it went everywhere....and she had eaten blackberries all morning so it was a delightful shade too.  Right on dinner time.  Sigh.  This is my life.  

Life, Oh life...

Over the last few days, I have captured a few different pictures of the kids around the place, always with this blog in mind, but nothing has seemed 'enough' for a blog post by itself.  However, the whole point of this blog is to capture these normal moments that we take for granted and preserve them, because one day I will forget the way Luke giggled uncontrollably when I suddenly appeared (BOO!) from behind my fingers, or the way that Jaimee and Kate sit down together on a Saturday morning to write out math problems and then proceed to solve them and mark them during one of their never ending games of 'schools'.  So here is a few more of those everyday moments in our life....

Jaimee or Kate often feed Luke for me on a weekday morning, taking turns while I brush the other girls hair and make the lunches.  They just love helping with their baby brother, and he is just happy to have someone take the time to feed him during these busy mornings!

During a game of schools (yep, it really is our life at the moment), Jaimee and Kate sat down and wrote out certificates for each other to present at Assembly.  Jaimee put a lot of thought into Kate's certificates, thinking about her skills and attitudes to people.  Kate wrote one out too all by herself (yes, at just 4), although hers was addressed to Zoe, who is Jaimee's best friend at school and who she was pretending to be during this particular game!  Kate must have got a bit muddled though, it starts of to Zoe, but ends up with Jaimee mentioned in it too!

  

 This afternoon, I captured these photos of Marty and Luke enjoying each other's company.  Luke is now at the delightful crawling stage, and Marty is just loving this new level of interaction.  He hid around corners today and called Luke, who slowly made his way towards the noise, only to have daddy pop out with a BOO! from behind the couch....resulting in a lot of giggles and faster crawling towards him.  Then Marty turned the game into a race, challenging Luke to a crawling match.  It warmed my heart to see both my handsome men crawling around together with big grins on their faces in their jeans and shirts.  Ahhh this is the life.

And finally, here are the girls practicing their gymnastics skills after watching a bit of a gymnastics based movie with me (Yep, Sunday afternoon 'tween' movies, I confess it!).  I am just waiting for Jaimee to break an arm or a leg as she flips herself around on the TOP of the swing set.  Gulp.   Jaimee has also been trying to do a handstand to hook her legs on to the bar after watching the big girls at school do this.   Meanwhile, Kate thinks she is a handstand star, and I am certainly not going to break her spell...I cheer her on as she attempts one after another. 

Upchuck at Pak n Save....fun and games!

I am a huge fan of online grocery shopping.  This was recommended to me by other busy mums, and after my first delivery I was hooked.  No more impulse buying and surprises at the grand total, no more pushing the trolley with a dodgy wheel around a packed supermarket, no more packing the bags only to unpack them 5 minutes later at home.  Now I get the best of the fruit and vege (from the storeroom, not the shop floor), I get little bonuses just about every week (sorry, we didn't have half rock melons in stock, so have a whole one at the same price Mrs Trowbridge) and I save myself OODLES of time and energy - shopping with a cofffee from the comfort of my own home.  Love it.

However, I still like to choose my own meat...so I decided that this week I would hit my old stomping ground,  pak'n'save, and do a big meat shop.  No worries, I do this every once in a while (and always end up spending more then I wanted to - darn those cheap specials, I have no blinkers when it comes to a bargain!).

My first hint of trouble came when Jaimee refused to eat breakfast and said she had a sore tummy.  Warning bells started going off - earlier this week she was the only kid still at her table, as everyone else was off sick.  It was my day to parent help in the class, followed by a blissful afternoon with no kids, so I was a big grumpy about her sore tummy, but that is life.  I told her she would have to come to the supermarket with me though, because I needed to do the shopping today.

All started well, she squeezed into a toddler seat next to Luke and off we went.  Just as I suspected, as soon as I walked in the door I was attacked by the most wonderful specials that I could not resist.  The trolley started piling up, and we hadn't even passed the meat section yet.  Mental note to self: online shopping is a keeper!

About halfway through, Jaimee was going greyer and greyer....and started to clutch at her tummy and ask "please can we go home mummy" and then she started coughing - uh oh....I know that warning.  I panicked and did the first thing that came into my head - I held her chin up and told her to swallow it down.  In hindsight, I do realise that this was a tad disgusting and mean.  I pushed the (now heavy and full) trolley at full speed to the closest checkout and hurridly told the young lady there (as I attempted to pull Jaimee out of the toddler seat) that my daughter was about to vomit and can I please leave my trolley here...she quickly complied!  We both were starting to panic a bit attempting to get Jaimee out of the seat, with the checkout girl suggesting she kick her jandals off in a slightly panicked voice, when finally she popped out to our relief.  We rushed for the toilet, asking the lady to please watch my baby for me (again, in hindsight, another bit of a dumb parenting move).  I managed to get Jaimee inside the door and almost but not quite to the toilet before she vomited all over the floor.  Oh great.  Luckily she hadn't eaten since dinner last night, so she was done fairly quickly.  She then sat on the toilet and I left her there to do her business while I ran back out to get Luke from the checkout lady who was standing there with my trolley chatting to her supervisor, no doubt telling her about the crazy mother I am!!!

Jaimee assured me she was all done and, although looking deathly grey and wiped out, she didn't feel like vomiting anymore.  I looked at the full trolley and then back at her.  Decision time.  I decided to finish this ordeal that I had started.  So soldier on we did, whisking around the rest of the supermarket quickly, Jaimee with a plastic bag in hand in case she needed to puke again, and me glancing at her every two seconds....but we did it.

And then....as only would happen in such a circumstance....when I got to the so called "shop'n'go" counter, all prepared to do my nice quick payment from the scanner.....I was told I had a re-scan today.
" Of course I do" I said with a sigh.
So Jaimee sat on the floor of pak'n'save with her bag, while I painstakingly slowly put every item in my overflowing trolley up on the checkout counter and then put it back in the trolley after the obligatory beep.  Finally, we were released from this bondage of horror and were allowed to go home.

The good news is that Jaimee wasn't sick again, just wiped out.  But oh. my. goodness.  What a morning!

 I think I will continue to stick to my friend the online grocery delivery option.

Nasty Nits

We had our first visit from the nasty nits in our house discovered today.  Not too bad considering we have two girls with fairly long hair who have made it thus far through daycare and school without so much as an itch.

Over the last couple of days, Jaimee has been complaining of an itchy head, so I have been checking her (and her sister) daily, but hadn't found anything. However, today while I was in the middle of making a meatloaf for dinner, I scratched at my own neck and EWWWW - found a bug in my fingernail.  There is nothing so creepy as the idea of bugs living on your head.  Instantly, it makes your scalp tingle and you can't help but scratch.  I dropped everything and checked Kates hair.  Yep,  there they were, teeny tiny brown flecks around the ears in her otherwise beautiful blond hair.  I couldn't find a thing in Jaimee's hair, but then her hair is brown so they probably camoflogue better, the sneaky little things   Get out of my girls hair. How dare they invade it.

I jumped in the car, walked into the closest pharmacy and told them I needed everything they had.  Ok not quite, but I needed something.  They recommended the electronic zapping machine - the best and most cost efficient treatment.  No worries, I was already onto that one...my stepmother has one from when the kids were constantly getting them, and I had made a quick call to her before going out.  It was on its way.  I needed something to get me by until then. During this conversation, I tried very hard to refrain from scratching my own head....don't want to freak out the poor lady.

Kate was first into the 'green cap of shame'.  Jaimee thought the comb smelled delicious (coated in tea tree oil I guess) and walked around sniffing it while I treated a very compliant Kate.  I must say it felt very odd to be spreading oil through my daughter's hair....until I saw the first horrid critter try and make a break for it down her neck.  Got ya!  I showed Kate the evidence....she was fascinated.  

After the required 10 minutes of suffocation period - DIE NITS, DIE (really its a bit barbaric, isn't it - suffocation or electric shock them!?) Kate had a good shower... and I sat down to comb her hair out.  I will never forget the one time that I had nits as a child and had to sit patiently as my mother combed my own waist length hair for TWO HOURS with the dreaded nit comb.  Mum collected the nits in a jar.  They were huge and disgusting and oddly fascinating.
So i grabbed a bowl of water, and set to work.  Luckily, It didn't take two hours, and it didn't hurt - I had warned Marty to use lots of conditioner in the shower!  I did however, find plenty of dead nits, much to the girls delight.  "Is that a bug mum? Can I see?" they said, peering into the bowl every time I rinsed the comb.   Kate decided they were HER bugs..."I know mummy, we can keep them as pets!!"  Umm..."they are dead darling, and they are gross. No pet nits" I replied firmly.  I almost took a photo of the water after I finished, but decided that was just a bit too much even for my blog.

Jaimee followed with only a few found in her hair, and lastly I treated myself - nothing in my hair after all upon doing the comb test - I must have caught a jumper on my neck.  Nasty Nits.  I don't like them.  Why do we always associate them with "poor, dirty and unkept" anyway?  I am sure it is because of all those novels about the poor immigrants who had to have their heads shaved before being allowed on the ships or whatever.  I do remember reading ONE novel where the maids were checking the rich ladies of the house for lice...but it is certainly not the common association.  Its not like the stupid bugs are picky.  But still, how DARE they invade my girls hair.

We had to wash all the hair ties and brushes, buy a 'preventer spray' for the girls hair and next week we have to pop the green cap back on and do it again.  We will definitly be checking every few days from now on until they get through primary school once we get this electric zapper...I remember hearing the reassuring 'ZAP" occasionally as it was used in our own house growing up every week.

Ahh....life with girls...I had been expecting this to pop up at some stage, but that doesn't make it any less time consuming!