Monday, May 31, 2010


For WEEKS I have been attempting to get one measly picture of T's only tooth. Because it won't be an only tooth for much longer; there are a couple of others just waiting to burst through.

Every time I get the camera out she basically attempts to grab it, eat it, dribble on it and generally be a right pain.

So out of the 497 pictures I took (thank goodness for digi), I present for posterity the tooth. Accessorised with smeared pumpkin. Nice.

Wednesday, May 26, 2010


Oh, the rain. How it is raining here in Sydney at the moment. I could write a post about just how much washing I have in varying states of dryness, but I won't. Too depressing.

T has a second tooth about to burst through. This means she's a bit grumpy. Actually, I'd forgotten how tetchy babies of her age get (she's almost 9 months). She wants to do everything but can't, and so she whinges. There's lots of stiffening up. Want to stand up? No. Want to sit down. No. Want to be carried around? No. Arggggghhhh! The good thing is that I do remember E being the same, so I know it's just a phase.

It's so lovely to have finished working on the book. I have caught up on lots of things that had been neglected around the house (though there is still much more to do - always!).

So, pretty quiet in these parts, really.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Not cool at all

You know you can truly kiss summer goodbye (and good riddance, I say) when 3/4 of the family is sporting fleecy footwear.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Love notes

Well, I thought my days of receiving love notes were over. But, hey, they're not! Only now they come from a four-year-old boy. Now that E can read (you may think I'm exaggerating, but this kid can pick up a new book and pretty much read it unassisted) he's also very into writing. Especially writing notes and signs.

He likes to surprise me when I'm cooking or in the shower. On Mother's Day he did some of his finest work to date.

This one is my favourite. It was stuck to my bedroom door on Mother's Day. It says, "No kids coming in my mum's room". Wow, he HAS grasped the concept of Mother's Day! But then he explained that the sign naturally didn't apply to him or to Baby T. It was there in case other kids came round to our house and tried to barge into my room on Mother's Day. The scoundrels. Lucky there was a sign stopping 'em in their tracks.

He also made this one:

It reads, "No mums allowed". In the house (GOOOOOD!!) Again, a Mother's Day sign, this appeared when I was having afternoon tea on the front deck.

There has also been quite a few of these presented:

Not to mention the odd alien:

But, really, this one is the piece de resistance. I found him outside in the dark just before bedtime, stickytaping this to the front wall of our house ("I want you to blow your horn" - a command to the passing traffic and, yes, possibly the smallest sign ever made).

Here he is, the signwriter at work.

Little character.

Tuesday, May 11, 2010

Fake-tan hands

The other day I scolded the boy. "Don't draw on your sister!" I said. "Her hands are all orange!" He told me he hadn't drawn on her. Yeah, yeah. Nice try, buddy, I thought, but I can see the evidence.

This morning I looked at T's hands: orange again.

It was first thing after breakfast and I knew E hadn't been anywhere near his textas. So I did what anyone would do: I consulted Dr Google.

Enthusiastic consumption of orange-coloured veg, it seems, will turn the hands and even the nose (!) orange. That beta carotene is amazing stuff. Apparently it is harmless to babies, even if the fluoro hands look a tad scary.

Miss T has been happily scoffing pumpkin, sweet potato, carrot with everything from slivers of meat through the rice, cheese and peas mushed through them.

Orange foods are my reliable 'mixer' for her. But it's clearly time to branch into some more greens!...

(It was very hard to photograph her - her hands are rarely still and the light doesn't really show it - nonetheless I present the photographic evidence)

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Endings, beginnings...

Endings: Here I am, waiting nervously for a final OK to press the 'print' button on the book that has gobbled up much of the past five months. Waiting, waiting for the phone to ring, an email to pop into my inbox. Nearly there, I know, I just need an OK from one person at the SMH and we are done, done, done... yay!

Beginnings: Well, hello, little toothypeg. Clocking in at 8 months and 3 days, the first sharp white bud of a tooth has made its appearance. And there's not been too much trouble with it coming through ... not that I distinguished from general baby grumbliness anyway!

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Buzzin' about

My boy is having a bit of a Buzz Lightyear phase. It seems The Wiggles are slowly being nudged out in favour of the Space Ranger from the Toy Story movies (which I must say I have not seen - basically, if Toy Story is in the DVD player it means Mum is busy!).

On Saturday morning I was feeling a bit blah, mainly from a shocking night's sleep on Friday night. The little one was a bit snotty and didn't properly settle until midnight. Then at 4.45am E, who had gone to bed in his 'glow in the dark skeleton' PJs, cries out for me. When I stumbled in to ask him what was wrong, this is what he said: "Muuuuuuum, my skeleton isn't glowing any more." Mate. You woke me up for that. Not impressed.

Anyhow, I digress. I was feeling rather tired and oppressed so I snuck out of the house for a spot of op-shopping. I find it to be the only truly guilt-free form of retail therapy for one who doesn't have a great deal of income...

The universe must have sensed the black clouds hovering just above my head because I had a great time wandering about and picked up a nice black trench coat (in need of a dryclean but otherwise fine), a pretty top, barely worn boy's shoes in E's next size, and this...

A Buzz Lightyear dress-up suit. I didn't see it at all, but I heard a little boy running around the shop saying "Destroy Buzz Lightyear" and smiled to myself, thinking that was a familiar refrain at our place. Next thing I hear the mum say "No, it's too small for you..." I seized the opportunity, tapping her on the shoulder and saying that if she wasn't going to buy it, could I?

I didn't even look at the size and - amazingly - it fits! A bit short in the legs, but who's complaining. Certainly not the boy who's been wearing it pretty much since the minute he got it...