#669 When they say her name no.2

With one more session of kinder to go for the year, you can be assured that the kids know each other’s names by now.

As parents too, I know fairly most of them. They are so sweet, and I feel like I’ve even grown fond of many of them, though we only see them once a week. I even think of the kids parents like “Alisha’s Dad,” and “Sarah’s Mum,” than to actually go by their names.

And hearing someone call out to baby girl, well, the novelty has not grown old, not one bit.

Baby girl was happily telling me what she had done at kinder as we left the building this afternoon, and as we started to cross the car park, she went on to the topic of her lunch.

“Me have little bit wrap… little bit pretzels…”

Sigh, this girl. She is a good eater, don’t get me wrong. But she gets so distracted at kinder, that her lunchbox comes back fairly full every time. I have been on a campaign to get her to eat more during kinder hours, rather than AFTER kinder hours which she has been doing once she gets home (successfully I might add, but you know, teachers want them all ‘school ready’ and everything).

But then as she was rattling what she had had “a little bit” of, she went

“me have lunch outside!”

“Oh?!” I replied. “With who?”

She answered with one of the teacher’s names, and then interestingly, named a boy who was walking with his Mum to their car, only a few metres away parallel to us.

She had named this boy several times before, and had indicated that they had played and he was nice. This made me happy, knowing she had another friend to play with aside from a few girls that she repeatedly mentioned to me,, but also I had to wonder: were these made-up kids games? Was she making up stories to me as kids often do? How could I really know what was going on at kinder, without seeing it for myself?”

At the mention of this boy’s name by baby girl though, I started to say “well, why don’t you say bye to him them?” at the same moment as his Mum looked up at her son’s name being mentioned. This Mum and I shared a broad smile between us as baby girl waved to him with a “bye,” and he did a casual “bye” back.

And then before I could get over that, I heard from behind us “bye baby girl!”

It was another boy calling out to her, and she responded without hesitation and a wave.

OMG. As if she knows everyone, and these little adults that are our kids, are conversing and interacting like 14 year olds when they are in fact 4.

It was the most hilarious yet so adorable and also super-exciting moment to hear her name being called again, and honestly, this little scenario had me almost bursting.

Next week the parents join their kids on the last day for a picnic lunch and graduation ceremony, and already I think I won’t be able to deal with all the cuteness…

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#663 Work ‘do’ doughnut joy

Anyone that knows me, knows I have a soft spot for doughnuts.

I’ve written about them a bit too, both here and here, as well as in MANY other posts.

So when I went to my work Christmas party tonight, and saw all the different varieties of free booze…

Hmmm, yeah. I expected as much.

What about the buffet style food layout that required plates (all we’ve had is finger food for years).

Oh, that’s different.

What about the special espresso martinis and mojitos?

Ooooh! Interesting.

The circus-tent like venue?

Very cool.

What about…

A doughnut food truck.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

I headlined it over there with my work colleague as fast as I could.

This was amazing.

This was incredible.

This was legendary.

We waited about 15 minutes in a small queue before we got to choose from 3 amazing and mouth-watering doughnut combinations.

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Drool Drool Drool

Do I really need to tell you which one I ordered?

And then… the MOMENT.

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Can I say, that they were amazing. So soft, warm and fresh, with the melted and warm Nutella swimming around them and sticking to the roof of my mouth in the most deliciously insane way.

OH MY GOD.

Sorry I don’t think you got that.

OH MY GOD.

Best work surprise EVER.

Work winning 🙂

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#654 Mills Beach Love… and the ‘true story’ behind the photos

There is a whole other side to the sweet, loving and idyllic photos that people post so often on social media.

And that definitely includes MINE.

I generally do post more happy stuff… I used to sometimes rant about something that might annoy me, and only after reading other rants on facebook, did I realise it was really unnecessary, and negative-drawing. I didn’t really feel much better about myself, my life, or that person when I read such quotes, and it made me realise that stuff like that was not needed online.

Not to confuse a day-to-day ‘I’m so pissed at the traffic today’ rant with a serious issue that needs attention and addressing. No that is fine, pull ALL the support and help from ALL the social media outlets, and gather the troops around as much as you need with your furious words. We need your PASSION.

So, I do post occasionally about our day-to-day lives, more so when we are doing something fun – I mean, does anyone wanna see us sitting on the couch in our pjs eating breakfast and watching Shimmer and Shine? Yeah I thought not.

shimmer and shine

But the story behind the photo often runs so much deeper, it travels something like an episode of Mr. Bean, it can be that frustratingly hilarious and stupid.

Take TODAY. Perfect example.

It was hot, and we went to the beach. I posted a photo of Hubbie and baby girl… for certain reasons I will not repeat that photo here, but instead here is another:

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You get my drift. Relaxation, fun in the sun, blue waters, chilling in the shade as I watch my family in the water…

Good times…

??? Or not?

Here is the REAL story. Because yes I am grateful we went to one of our favourite beaches today as a family on one of our few days off together, but seriously… we were ALL nearly crying at various stages.

Firstly, we got there late. 3:30pm, and this was after we stopped at Baker’s for some bread rolls, and Hubbie got a cheap knife from Woolies (more on that later) because he had forgotten to bring one from home, and then because he had a couple of beers for himself, he was ever so kind, through the 30+ degree heat of the day, to head over to the nearby Dan Murphy’s to get me some kind of mixed drink.

Hubbie and I hadn’t had lunch. Baby girl was the only fed one.

Arriving at the hottest time of the day with several bags, 3 beach chairs, a folded up tent, towels, and walking about in the hot sand when we were hungry and starving, is trying enough.

But we did it. We set up the tent, almost stuffing it up (but we made it!) and then I just launched into the water where baby girl was already playing, sitting down immediately it was that bloody beautifully warm.

So, all good. I headed back to the tent where Hubbie was getting some stuff ready, applying sunscreen for himself, etc etc… I went to get the drink Hubbie got for me.

Rekorderlig is not paying me but I won’t say no if they come knocking. 

So I found this cider and I was like “yes!” as it’s been ages since I had one. I went to open it up, looking at him questioningly as I said “screw top?”

“Yeah,” he replied casually, at the same time looking over to the bottle in my hand and his face dropping. Because he just realised that it is in fact NOT a screw top, and it required a bottle opener.

Damn.

I sighed. I hadn’t eaten, Hubbie was getting crankier by the second, I could just feel the waves of irritation blowing off of him, and now we had no opener.

I wanted a bloody drink.

“We have one in the car,” he said, and I relaxed somewhat.

The way I am obsessed about tissue boxes being in every part of the house, scissors and nail clippers and nail filers being both upstairs and downstairs, he is a total fuss-pot and needs to have bottle openers scattered everywhere, house, car and probably his pants, because, IN CASE.

“Can you put some sunscreen on my back?” I asked him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Is that before or after you want me to get the bottle opener and make your lunch?”

I ignored him and smiled. “Yes now.” But we were already getting to that point.

So he went and got the bottle opener. I had a drink, and took the above photo. Fine. I joined him and baby girl in the shallow waters, and we splashed about. Also good. And then he went back to the tent to make my lunch.

Now, I didn’t tell him to make my lunch. We had previously decided on grabbing some of those spinach and cheese/pizza rolls at Baker’s as it was a quick and easy bite especially when we were at the beach. I would have made a pasta salad and brought it with us if our stove was connected – our house and kitchen area is still a mess. So this is what I was thinking, this is what we even said out loud to each other… but then this dude of mine, somehow decided that it would be easier, to buy plain rolls at Baker’s, and then fill them… himself…

You know what he brought with him? Tuna, feta, and tomato. On a 34 degree day amidst SAND.

MORE on that debacle later.

Meanwhile, baby girl and I were in the water. It was amazing, and we were having a ball. I kept asking her, “do you have to go pee?” because I was just getting this vibe off her, I know her so well. She was saying no, so I would let the topic go, but then she’d pipe up “I don’t have to go pee.”

When she says she doesn’t have to go pee, I KNOW she HAS to go and pee.

I finally convinced her to go and pee before coming back. “I promise honey, we are coming back, I wouldn’t lie to you.” She took my hand and off we went.

Now, this is a purely female thing, and I say this because I told Hubbie and he had no idea… but after being in the water for a bit, when us chicks have to pee later, sometimes the urine comes out warm. I know, I’m sorry, using words like URINE and all, bad enough I’m saying PEE. I think it has something to do with our nether-regions being all cold, and our urine isn’t actually warm, it’s our parts that our cold, therefore our urine feels warm.

Enough explanation, if anyone actually knows, please advise in the comments below.

I sat baby girl on the toilet seat, and waited. She immediately yelled “ouch!” and started to whinge/cry. I ascertained that it was her pee, as she has reacted a bit like that before, but not so strongly. I was telling her, comforting her and saying “it’s just a bit warm, everything is ok, it’s not that bad,” but then she suddenly wasn’t peeing – she was holding on – and I was getting worried/upset. Worried because it is not good to hold in your pee (being a Mum shit like this scares you as kids can easily develop infections) but also upset because it is NOT THAT BAD AND SHE IS BEING A DRAMA QUEEN.

For at least 5 minutes I stayed with her in the loo as she got upset at not peeing/holding it in. I tried to console her, then I played bad cop and was like “we’ll go home if you don’t go toilet, you have to go!” But she was STILL upset and said “go home.”

Go home? This girl LOVES the water! Something must not have been right if she was happy to go home.

I got her out of there, REALLY mad. I stomped/limped across the hot sand, baby girl limping too behind me, as we got to Hubbie…

slaving away in the tent.

“I am not happy!” I told him, proceeding to go on about how she wouldn’t ‘go,’ but she had to ‘go,’ but she was holding it in. I told him that we were going home. You know… reverse psychology?

And he went “yeah let’s go… it’s been a shit day.”

?!?!

He continued. “I’m never doing this again!” He had his newly-bought $3 knife, wrappers, a plastic bag as a rubbish bin, food and tins and all kinds of crumbs all around him, and he was SWEATING. “I’m here making YOUR sandwich, it’s a mess, I’m hot, it’s at least 10 degrees hotter in this tent…”

Meanwhile, I was trying SO damn hard to keep my cool. I ended up convincing baby girl to try and pee in the grass behind the beach boxes, as maybe the novelty would help her relax.

Nope. Instead I ended up with something that resembled a small leech on my leg that wouldn’t come off until I scratched it off, and off we went back to the tent, MORE MAD/SAD.

I pretty much ordered her to stay in there, and not move until she went to the loo first. She resigned herself to this, and I sat down to eat this God-damn roll Hubbie had prepared for me, as he sooked and moaned. He pushed the side of the tent away from him as a sudden strong breeze blew the tent wall against him, swearing loudly, and a nearby girl looked over at us as she heard it.

We are European-descendants people. We don’t swear/argue in public. How EMBARRASSMENT. I unleashed.

“Can you fix your f*&king attitude? Honestly all day today, can you just look at yourself? Did I ask you to make me a bloody sandwich, NO, I don’t know what is wrong with you, who brings tuna and feta and a tomato they have to cut at the beach?! There is sand everywhere!”

Like, what the actual fuck.

He went quiet, as I went quiet, chomping on this odd combo of tuna/feta/tomato that somehow worked in a seriously strange way which I would NEVER TELL HIM, picking out the chilli piece in the tuna that he FORGOT TO REMOVE.

Baby girl chomped on a bread roll, Hubbie just sat, and in a few minutes I was back in the water, trying to make her all jelly that she wasn’t allowed to go in. Mean parental tactics maybe, but I was trying to prevent an infection damn it!

In the end, this stubborn girl (wonder where she gets that from?) won. Hubbie ‘let’ her come down to the water, and though I contested it at first, I let it go.

Just like Elsa. LET IT GO.

frozen-let-it-go-photo

 

Which leads me to this next pic.

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Don’t they look serene? Isn’t the water just so sparkling and magical? Oh the joy to go to the beach with your family? Oh, WHAT LOVE! ♥♥

?!?!

You see? You see the shit we had to go through? Hubbie swearing against the tent, the beach, the weather, the sand, about ALL MANNER OF SHIT, baby girl refusing to take a shit or anything else for that matter, and then me, trying to hold the insanity together, and trying so damn hard to ‘think positive.’

:):):)

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Not f*&king easy! :):):)

Yes, we did end up having a really great day, eventually… we were kind of like an overseas commercial at one stage, the one promoting the family having an awesome time on a beach getaway as they all go crazy splashing each other and laughing like mad. We were so Hawaii.  But don’t get too jelly, because when we got home, we were tired and cranky, ate dinner late, Hubbie was a yo-yo as his mood swung from relieved to cranky to funny to shitty, and I was there like

“WTF?”

Both my babes are sleeping now so I love them sooo much. But before.

Before…

Just a reminder that not all things are as they appear in the photos. I still love Mills Beach. I loved our day together. But I think I could have done without the Mr. Bean dramas…

And closure for those keeping score. I realised once we were much happier later on in the afternoon that there is an opening at the back of the tent that can be zipped open, allowing cool air to waft through, keeping it at the same temp as outside. Hear that Hubbie?

And baby girl held her pee in until she got home… and then went normally.

So I actually don’t know what was wrong earlier, or what in fact happened. Much like ALL OF MOTHERHOOD.

 

 

 

 

 

#649 THE COOKER

Today, our insanely fabulous cooker was wheeled into place in our W.I.P kitchen.

The electrician: “It’s bloody heavy to carry, for an oven. So heavy! But it’s a fancy one.”

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Yes electrician. Remind me again. And again and again.

I definitely need a reminder. It was a year ago that we bought our new kitchen appliances for our future kitchen, not knowing then that they would be gathering dust in the corner of our garage until the following Spring.

But today. Ohhh, today. Today the electrician told me several times how cool it was, and each time, I internally clapped my hands with glee.

(!!!)

I haven’t even used it, and I am super-duper excited. Oh, just imagine all the trays of food I can fit into those 900mms of expansiveness… oh, imagine the crisp pastries and tarts, creamy casseroles, indulgent desserts, and succulent roasts I can whip up in that beast of kitchen machinery.

That’s right. Sunday. I think I will attempt a roast this Sunday evening, as an official christening of the oven.

I never thought I would love an oven soooo much. But I do. And I haven’t even used it yet. That can be another post, for another day.

And can I just say, our bareless cupboard-ed kitchen has nothing in it, and yet if you look again at the above picture, you can see we have our priorities totally in check…

Yep, that’s right.

BEANS.

#637 Hubbie’s kindness

Today was a real Sunday.

It was the Sunday dreams are made of. No plans, aimlessly going here, and then there.

Gloriously sunny skies stretching out ahead.

Bustling roads and people out and about, making the most of the day – and us with them.

And overall, relaxing.

I had many things to be grateful for as I made my way through the day, and photo evidence was created along the way.

Relaxing with a coffee on the front porch in the mid-afternoon sun:

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Having a bite out – burritos:

Then some berry dessert to follow:

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And lastly, park play, with long admiring glances at hundred-year-old trees:

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It wasn’t until this last stop that my real gratitude came forward. Baby girl had gotten wind of the suddenly available swing, and was going absolutely mental on it. She has learned how to swing on her own, her legs going under and then out in front, as she takes herself to the sky, in her sweet words.

Beside her on the swing was another boy, trying to do the same thing. Hubbie and I watched from a few metres away, me still polishing off my melting ice-cream in the mild evening air, as baby girl squealed with joy, confidently, with strength, and pure happiness, while the boy, at least a couple years older than her, sat fairly still on the swing, trying to move about, but not getting much wind behind his swing.

We heard him call out to his Mum a couple of times. She was just behind us, her back to him, chatting to another Mum.

We glanced at each other. Hubbie made a few comments alongside the vein of “she can’t even hear him.” We were not Mum-shaming, and nor am I doing it now – I am just repeating the stone cold facts of the day.

We watched as this boy looked on at baby girl wishfully, at the same time calling out to his Mum with no hope in his voice – she had already said something dismissive as she had continued her chat with the other woman.

Hubbie said some more ‘interesting’ words… and then stood up. I urged him on with “I feel sorry for him,” but reminded him to be cautious too: you never know how a fellow parent will act when you start to parent their child.

Hubbie moved behind baby girl, pushing her (even though she didn’t need it!) while asking the boy if he needed help. The boy was alright on the seat, and I could hear Hubbie telling him “put your legs under… and then out. Now under… and then out. Great job.”

I smiled as I watched in amazement at the boy immediately responding to Hubbie’s instruction. He started to gain some speed in his swinging, and as he got up higher and higher, Hubbie gave him a swift and strong PUSH.

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The sun was setting behind them as I watched, and so I could only see their outlines – but I swear that boy’s face lit up with the biggest smile as Hubbie gave him that huge push, helping him get to baby girl’s height. She yelled in delight to be swinging so high alongside a fellow ‘friend,’ and Hubbie made a few more pushes behind the boy’s swing, urging him to keep going “legs under… then out.”

At the boy’s beaming face, my heart surged with pride at Hubbie’s selfless act. Hubbie couldn’t see his face. He was looking towards the boy’s Mum, with some amount of disappointment on his face, as she obliviously kept chatting.

The boy soon came to a stop, and as he shuffled his feet onto the ground below to stand up straight, his Mum now looked behind her. She laughed and said to her friend:

“Oh Alistair’s just sitting there, he’s fine.”

Oh, lady. You have no idea.

The boy soon got out of the swing and hurried off to another part of the park, while I went over to Hubbie and told him about the expression on the boy’s face.

And baby girl continued to fly up into the air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

#633 Spinach and fetta pastries

I am grateful because today, despite being tired, uninspired, flat, and with a MASSIVE cbf attitude when I got home from work, I still somehow summoned up the energy to make these:

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Spinach and fetta pastries. Can I just say, soooo lucky I didn’t read the recipe properly, or else I never would have made it – had I known I actually had to roll the pastry out.

Like, sigh. Who has time to ‘roll’ these days?

So I did, barely. And though they were kinda falling apart when I put them together, the save function occurred when I turned them upside down to keep the fold on the bottom – and they turned out great.

It all came about when I came across a recipe for using up spinach, and I had a fair bit of spinach that needed using up in the fridge. I’ve been really trying to cook according to what I have, and waste not, want not as I go along. It is better for the environment, and better for your wallet too.

I always hold back when I need to use pastry, whether store-bought, frozen, whatever… let alone the insane terrifying thought of making pastry myself.

But I am aware of my pastry fear, and I am going to try and make more things that use this my most scary ingredient, and shock horror – I might even make a pie, from scratch.

Dum da dum dum.

I know, right? Un-bloody-believable. Watch this space.

But for now, this pastry rocks. It turned out so great, despite literally smacking it together… life is so much better when things work with you.

 

#609 1st year celebrations

It is the loveliest thing, when the town that you move to decides to throw you a welcoming party in honour of your presence, and then at each anniversary they throw more parties, just to remember how amazing it is that you decided to regal them with your being to reside in their locality.

Yep. That, or it happened to be the Main Street Mornington Festival, which falls on the third Sunday of October and has been happening for 22 years now, and it just so happily coincides with the time of year you decided to move.

Same same. A lucky coincidence either way.

And so the gratitude and happiness at our 1 year long Sea change continued today at the Main Street Fest. It was a stunning day, with a very fresh, strong sea breeze, and yet still, the people were out in force, packed like sardines in the middle of the street as they squeezed their way through amongst the countless and endless food stalls on either end.

After moving very slowly for what seemed like too long, we ended up deciding to just sit down and watch everyone else idle on by, and so we happened across the best spot at one of our most favourite-st of places to eat, drink, do anything really: The Winey Cow.

(I had the best Laksa!)

A spot of ice cream was required from Vespa’s afterwards

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And then once some more fun and drinks were had, we headed off back to the car a good few blocks away…

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Oh, to be a kid and be able to hitch a ride like that. She is so damn lucky. I had to walk.

And then, poor Hubbie’s shoulders.

But all in all, the day was splendid, and we had spent it as intended – us, our family, just doing what we came here to do a year ago…

Enjoy life 🙂