Laziest Girl

2010-10-22T21:44:00.001+10:00

Today we went to the library and Buster was in charge of choosing a couple of books for the MonkeyFish. Usually this involves choosing something with not too many words (nobody wants to be reading for 40 minutes at bedtime). But today, Buster has had an epic fail.

Today he chose a book called 'Sniff'.

In the book, Sniff the dog is sad because Granny isn't sitting in her chair anymore and the rest of the family try to cheer him up by telling him that they love him. The point being, of course, that dear old Granny has passed on.

I read the book before I realised the subject matter.

LG: Why Sniff was sad?
MF: Because Granny isn't there.
LG: Where's Granny then?
MF: I don't know.
LG: I think Granny died.
MF: Why?
LG: I don't know why.
MF: Do you think she got eaten by a crocodile or something?

Child rearing (near) disasters

2010-08-26T22:39:00.000+10:00

So, Wednesday morning turns up as usual but I've picked up a nasty cold (cue coughing fit).The MonkeyFish has emptied the entire Lego box over the floor so I tell him that if he picks up all the Lego on his own, he can watch Finding Nemo (or Memo as he refers to it). I figure this will save me picking up the Lego and buy me 90 minutes of quiet time to get in with the washing etc while we are all stuck inside on a rainy day. The MonkeyFish picks up the Lego and settles in to watch the movie.

All goes well and when the movie ends he's fine. I make some sandwiches and then it starts. Mummy, you be the pelican and I'll be the seagull. Mine, mine, mine.

Endlessly. All day. And all day again today. Finally at 5pm, I've had it. MonkeyFish, that's enough, please stop being a seagull. Mine. No, really, no more. Mine, mine. MonkeyFish, I've asked you to stop, I'm not asking again. Mine, mine, mine. If you don't stop, you can go to your room for two minutes. Mine. Right. Bedroom. Now. Noooooooooooo. Yes, for two minutes and I don't want to hear anymore mine *drags child up hallway*. Put him in his room and turn to walk out when a little voice, barely audible says 'mine'.

I bolt from the room in near hysterics with tears tolling down my cheeks trying desperately to not let him see that I'm laughing.

Too long for twitter

2010-08-09T17:32:00.000+10:00

*imagining conversation* I know, let's get LG to prepare the contracts, what with her tenuous grasp of legalese, and her attention to detail rating in the negatives, she's the perfect choice to draft up these overly complex and yet legally binding documents.

Feline ratbag

2010-07-02T23:07:00.000+10:00

So the cat hasn't always been evil. She was Busters cat before we met, but she used to quite like me. Once the MonkeyFish was born, she turned on me with avengence. Every time I walked passed her, she'd bite my foot, leg or ankle - whichever part of me that she could press her yellowing fangs into. Hard enough to draw blood too.

She was just getting over the worst of the hatred when Ponyboy was born. I feared the biting would again commence. And it did, briefly.

But now she is warming to the idea of being a family-cat. Several times I've found her asleep on the MonkeyFish's bed at night. Curled up near his feet, purring and all puffed up. A couple of times, I've even shut her in his room accidentally when I've gone to bed and been dragged from my dreams by her insistent scratching at the door.

Today I saw her crouching on the grass while the MonkeyFish hared about. He eventually sidled up to her and gently patted her back. Rather than ignoring him, she stretched her neck up and slightly lifted her bottom up off the ground.

She's finally decided that he is acceptable because he can pat her.

Dinosaur birthday cake!

2010-06-14T06:38:00.001+10:00

So my dinosaur cake looked a bit like the (a?) Loch Ness Monster but the MonkeyFish was delighted.

I think these are my favourite shoes

2010-06-09T21:13:00.001+10:00

Boy, aren't you glad you tuned in for this one.

Lies I tell my child

2010-06-03T13:30:00.002+10:00

- There is only one shop that sells doughnuts at Indooroopilly.
- Only Granma's can make the coin-operated rides at the shops go around and around.

Note from daycare

2010-06-01T19:50:00.001+10:00

Yes, please don't send your three year old to daycare in high heels. Ok?

Work

2010-05-25T08:07:00.002+10:00

So I'm back at work for a few weeks to help out - one day in the office and one day from home. Thought I'd share with you what going to work means to a mother of a 3 year old and a 6 month old.

Drinking my coffee in the manner in which it is served ie hot
Going to the bathroom without an audience
Eating without having share my lunch with the gaping maw that is the eldest
40 minutes of uninterrupted quiet time on the bus to work
And 40 minutes of uninterrupted quiet time on the bus home from work
Wearing clothes for an entire day without getting baby-puke on them
Wearing makeup that is not applied in the car en route to somewhere
Getting in an elevator without having to check that any part of my entourage gets stuck in the door
A day without tears (mostly)
Talking to other adults without a small monster swinging on your leg saying 'mummy, mummy, mummy, mummy'

Ahhhh, happy days. Did I also mention that I get PAID to show up? And my workmates say thankyou *AND* please without prompting.

Things I Hate (and I hate a lot of things so this is the abridged version from today).

2010-05-18T17:03:00.001+10:00

The 'sent from my iPhone' message that appears on my emails.
Leggings worn under a normal length skirt.
Cheap shoes that allow the wearer foot to roll inwards.
Trousers meant to be worn with flat shoes that are teamed with high
heels and result in pants flapping around the ankle.
Beige. Tan. Biscuit.
People with complicated coffee orders.
People who read the newspaper on the bus.
Dyed black hair (unless you are under the age of 21 and are doing
'alternative').
iPods too loud for the earplugs to contain the noise.
Small dogs that bark a lot.
Sub-standard bakeries.
Smokers.
Palm trees.
Not being in charge of the world.
Phone shops.

So, still channeling the rage here then.

Honestly ....

2010-05-15T10:06:00.000+10:00

I'd rather you were honest than polite. If I invite you somewhere, or
offer to help with something, and you don't want to go or just plain
don't want my help, just say so. Really, it's much easier for
everyone. Not replying to my emails just makes me cross, a simple 'no
thanks' is all it takes and I won't take it personally (well, I'll do
my best not to take it personally).

Chatterbox

2010-05-12T19:49:00.001+10:00

I'm in the bathroom getting ready for work. The MonkeyFish comes in
with a banana. You'd better ask Dadda if you eat that, say I. So he
wanders over to Mark, Dadda, can I have a banana? Of course you can,
MonkeyFish, says Dadda. I have one here, says the MonkeyFish,
producing the banana from behind his back where he has stashed it.

Nothing to see here, now move along.

2010-05-03T17:04:00.002+10:00

I'd like to say that I've been busy doing exciting and fascinating things but that would be untrue. Everybody is either sick, getting sick or recovering from being sick. The MonkeyFish is on his second round of the same cold, Ponyboy has Bronchiolitis and I have viral conjunctivitis in my right eye. Buster is infuriatingly well.

We were meant to be going to Melbourne this weekend for a wedding but Ponyboy probably won't be ok to fly so Buster will be going on his own. Very disappointed as I actually fit into my dress and even bought new, staggeringly high heels to wear. But better to stay home than for Ponyboy to get sick again.

I haven't even been reading any books I can tell you about. Ponyboy is also on meds for reflux so I haven't been getting enough sleep to make reading feasible. I haven't even been cooking anything as I've been on rations to lose weight to fit into my fancy frock.

I can talk about the new Doctor Who though - I don't love him but I do like him. I like him than the before last but I guess following Mr Tennant is a bit rough.

2010-03-31T21:08:00.001+10:00

Every second Wednesday I look after my friends liitle girl - Jorja. On the alternate Wednesday, the MonkeyFish goes to their house. She's about 6 weeks younger than the MonkeyFish and as cute as a button.

Today I gave them some sultanas after they ate their lunch. Jorja is a fussy eater but ate all the sultanas, 'more sultanas' she says. 'more sultanas what?' I asked waiting for the magic word. 'Um, brown ones' she informs me.

Still here

2010-03-09T22:11:00.003+10:00

Firstly I'd like to thank Buster for FINALLY fixing my Blogger account issues and making it all work on my phone! It turned out that my password had been mysteriously changed to Buster's password and this was why I couldn't get it to work. According to Buster, it wasn't working because I'm an idiot. I'll let you decide.

Anyway, it's now all working properly and I can blog from here, there or anywhere!

Secondly, I'd like to say that this idea of having two children was not properly thought through. I get nowhere near enough sleep, I have to share everything I eat with the MonkeyFish and the only time I sit down is when I feed Ponyboy. Did I mention that if one isn't squawking about something than the other one probably is?

On the bright side, Ponyboy loves the MonkeyFish. Every time the MonkeyFish is in the room, Ponyboy laughs and smiles at him. The MonkeyFish thinks Ponyboy is cute but not very interesting and pretty much ignores him. The dog, however, has taken to sleeping on the mat in the baby's room and follows me around if he's screaming about something.

And we finally bought a new coffee machine so I have a whole new (re-caffeinated) perspective on life too.

2010-03-09T21:55:00.000+10:00

Testing ... 1. 2. 3??????

Kid Update

2010-02-03T12:20:00.003+10:00

The MonkeyFish is talking like a pro now and has started experimenting with his language - it's very cool. The other morning he was playing with his toys in the playroom (which is next to the kitchen) and chatting away to himself. Mark was making some tea and had a look around the corner to see what he was doing - "Hey Dadda, come and sit in here. There are plenty of chairs." He's also been trying out 'it's a bit' and 'it's very' as in "it's a bit dark" and "it's very rainy". It's so interesting to hear him using language to express himself.

Ponyboy has also started cooing and gurgling when you talk to him - it's like he leaves a space when it's your turn to talk. He's also started reaching out for things and grabbing them - this doesn't sound that interesting but considering he has spent the last three months eating and sleeping - it's pleasing that he's upping his entertainment efforts for us.

I've also got an iPhone - at first I thought that it was wankery and was quite resistant but now I'm a convert. It's one of the most useful things I've ever owned. Also the MonkeyFish is a huge fan. I've got a couple of toddler friendly game apps which he loves to the extent of stealing my phone and hiding in the ensuite to play the games (as his contact with the thing is severely rationed and usually only for the car or the shopping trolley). His favourite is SmackTalk and he will happily spend 45 minutes shouting 'you're the guinea pig' at it. People do think you are a bit insane at the shops but at least he isn't crying or screaming.

A MonkeyFish and his Greyhound (aka the idiot in a dog suit)

2009-12-21T11:16:00.004+10:00

As you know, we have a lovely black Greyhound named Izzy. She is a real sweetheart and very patient with the MonkeyFish who, unintentionally, makes her life a misery.

The other day I was sitting outside with a cup of tea and the MonkeyFish was relocating all the lovely white river stones which surround the base of my dwarf lime and lemon trees. He generally carts them all over the garden and I find them stuffed behind the hot water system, the air conditioning unit, under the dogs bed, in the sand pit, in the dogs water bowl, under the door mat etc.

On this occasion he was sitting on the concrete putting the stones in and out of a little bucket from the sandpit using a little spade. Izzy wanders past and flops down beside him. The MonkeyFish starts chatting away to her about what he is doing and I think, awww, how sweet, they are playing together.

I go inside for something and when I come back, I find the MonkeyFish carefully putting the white river stones in her mouth. Izzy takes the stones gently, then rolls her head to the otherside, drops the stones on the concrete and rolls her head back towards the MonkeyFish for the next stone. There are about eight stones piled near her neck so they been doing this for a bit.

It was very sweet. She is such a lovely dog. Even though I often refer to her as the idiot in the dog suit because she usually jumps about like a damn antelope and slides all over the floor.

Haven't gone insane yet

2009-12-21T10:46:00.005+10:00

Ponyboy is now seven weeks old and getting huge - he is about 1.5kg heavier than when he was born - and is officially 'thriving'.

He's also started smiling which is very endearing and quite adorable. I'm sure smiling is actually a biological imperative - if they didn't start smiling early, all the screaming and not sleeping would probably lead to most babies being raised by gypsies or exposed on hillsides.

The only negative is that he is not meeting the correct developmental guidelines. We took him for his six week check up with the paediatrician and he rolled over on the examination table to the great surprise of the doctor. The MonkeyFish rolled over when he was about four months old which is perfectly correct. While I am impressed that Ponyboy is strong enough to roll over, I'm praying that it doesn't mean he will be an early crawler/walker.

He's a pretty good baby though and is a good sleeper at night. Those of you without children probably wouldn't appreciate the amazing-ness of this. I give him his last feed at about 9.30pm (which takes about 45 minutes) then put him in his bed for the night. He then wakes up between 2.30 and 3am and then sleeps until about 6am-ish.

The MonkeyFish is having some weird growth/developmental spurt and is not sleeping very well - 4.35am is a stupid time to wake up. He's very restless and is woken up by the damn Kookaburras (which start up at about 3.30am). I'll leave my rant about the lack of daylight savings in Queensland for another time (it's a conspiracy to oppress those with young children, so they are too sleep deprived to defend their rights to whatever takes your fancy etc).

As you can see, the MonkeyFish has grown nearly 6cms in last six months - no wonder he is a bit out of sorts.

All-in-all, we are good. And still here. Just busy (I swear I do at least 2 loads of washing every day).

Ponyboy - news to date

2009-11-27T10:08:00.002+10:00

Hey all, here I am, still in the 'newborn tunnel of doom'. Although, I must admit, the 'newborn tunnel of doom' is nowhere near as bad second time around. I think I'm a bit more tired because you can't just have a sleep whenever you want, but I don't feel as anxious about what the baby wants/needs.

Ponyboy is pretty low maintenance so far - the MonkeyFish seemed to decided that he didn't need to go to bed, ever, which was way more hassle than Ponyboy (who sleeps for 2 hours out of every 3, and the other hour is spent being fed anyway). Thankfully the 4.07am starts seemed to have stopped and the MonkeyFish is now sleeping in until the reasonable time of 5.30am.

Having children is like living in an alternate reality. A reality where 5.30am is a reasonable time.

Anyway, overall we are doing ok - the baby is getting fatter, the MonkeyFish hasn't been sent to live with the gypo's and Buster hasn't been sleeping on the couch. What more can you ask for?

Introducing Reuben

2009-11-08T18:33:00.007+10:00

This is Reuben Miles Preston King

To our great surprise, he arrived eight days early. He joined us on Monday, 2 November 2009 at 8.05pm weighing 3.66kgs (8lb 1oz) and was 50.5cm long. We arrived home from the hospital on Friday morning and, so far, the MonkeyFish hasn't squished him. Yet.

Of course there are more pics on Flickr.

La la la la, I can't hear you

2009-10-26T10:53:00.006+10:00

We had our 20 year school reunion this weekend and I really enjoyed seeing everyone again. It seems that by the time you reach 20 years, it's more about being happy than it being a competition about financial success.

On the Friday night before the reunion, we all gathered at a friends house to finish the preparations (cutting out the name tags etc) and have a glass or two (except me of course - I'm still the designated driver).

Buster was standing in the kitchen talking to one of the guys we went to school with who was (I think) a year above me - Andrew. He works in a hospital and has trained as a midwife (I'm not sure if he still works as one though). Andrew, by this stage, has had more than three glasses of wine, and Buster is not that far behind him. Anyway, Buster and Andrew are chatting away happily enough and then they start to discuss the impending arrival of Ponyboy.

Some general conversation follows and Andrew begins explaining to Buster how he can check how much my cervix is dilated once labour starts. Buster is desperately trying to interject to explain that he doesn't really want to know this information, but Andrew is determined to share his professional, if inebriated, expertise.

I get distracted by something else for a few mintues, and when I next listen in, all I hear is Buster saying plaintively "can't I just drive to the hospital, I'll just drive her to the hospital, really, it'll be fine, I don't need to do anything expect drive to the hospital".

I think that's the equivalent of putting his fingers in his ears and say "la, la, la, la - I can't hear you".

Differences

2009-10-20T19:03:00.002+10:00

With the MonkeyFish about to be a big brother, it's become very interesting to me to see the differences between children depending on their birth order. One of my friends has three boys, the youngest of whom is about the same age as the MonkeyFish. He's active and busy, just like the MonkeyFish, but seems a lot older as he learns tricks from his older brothers.

The MonkeyFish has just started singing along when I sing nursery rhymes like 'Baa, baa black sheep' and 'Twinkle, twinkle little star'. My friends little boy, however, has just started singing along too - but he sings along to Beyonce - 'All the single ladies'.

Last time we visited them, I learnt that the eldest boy, when being naughty, puts his fingers in his ears and says 'blah, blah, blah ... I'm not listening to you'. But his youngest brother hasn't quite got it yet - his heart is in it but he's just not quite there.

Blah, blah, blah ... you're not listening to me!!

7 weeks to go

2009-09-22T18:38:00.002+10:00

So there are only 7 weeks to go (or thereabouts) until Ponyboy makes his grand entrance (although exit is probably more accurate). That's right, only 7 weeks until he stops being a foetus and becomes an infant.

When the MonkeyFish decided to come early (about 5 days early), he arrived pretty quickly - only about 5 hours from start to finish. I am a bit worried that Ponyboy will be even more impatient and that we won't make it to the hospital at all. I am having recurring nightmares about giving birth on the side of the road. Buster doesn't seem concerned which alarms me even more.

Anyway, until now, Ponyboy has been pretty happy in the womb - sitting head up like a little Buddha. In case you weren't aware, babies are actually meant to come out head first so the pressure was on for Ponyboy to turn around. Apparently, if you have a foetus that is head up, as they get bigger, gravity takes control and tips them around so they are head down. That's the good news. The bad news is that as they get bigger, there is less space for them to turn around.

But I think Ponyboy has finally succumbed to gravity and turned around. We won't know for certain until we see the doctor again, but I'm hopeful.

Exibit A.

2009-09-14T18:24:00.003+10:00

This is why Buster is in charge of opening up the sandpit every morning.

Byeeeeee

2009-08-19T08:22:00.002+10:00

Usually when we dropped the MonkeyFish off at daycare, he hares straight off to play with the toys or play chasey with his little friends. On Monday we dropped him off a little bit later than usual and all the other kids were being let outside to play.

MonkeyFish headed straight for the sandpit with his little friend Lachlan and they proceeded to tip all the toys out of the box into the sandpit.

'Bye MonkeyFish', I said, 'see you this afternoon'.
'Bye Mummy', said MonkeyFish.

'Bye MonkeyFish, bye Lachlan', said Buster.
'Bye Man', said Lachlan.
'Bye ... Man?', said MonkeyFish.

Ahh, it warms the cockles of your heart doesn't it?

How's that for being born under a bad sign?

2009-08-07T08:55:00.002+10:00

Buster has banking issues.

For the last ten years he has done all his business banking with a nameless giant of the banking industry ie. the Commonwealth Bank. Over the last year or so, Buster has tried at least four times to change his address on the business account to no avail. He's been into the branch a few times, he's tried over the phone and even faxed the signed forms in himself (in case the branch were doing it wrong). But alas, apparently it is beyond their capability. And, to be frank, being charged outrageous fees has done nothing to earn them redemption.

So Buster finally decided to close the accounts. So in he went to the branch and said, and I quote, "I want to close everything". So they did.

Until yesterday when Buster received a $38 invoice from CBA for fees for maintaining his merchant account (which is the credit card processing facility). Clearly when you say that you want to close everything, merchant accounts are not included. I'm not quite sure how they expect Buster to process credit card payments without have any account in which to deposit the money though.

The best bit is that when he rang up to explain that he'd tried to close 'everything' and then received an invoice for the merchant account they said that he had to pay a $110 fee to close the merchant account. On the bright side they'll waive the $38 invoice.

When he went in to a rival bank to open a new business account, he was told that there was a $60 fee for doing a business name search (which is their way of confirming his business registration number).

I think Buster is considering the old money under the bed banking system now.

Baby King

2009-06-19T20:36:00.003+10:00

Baby King - expected date of arrival - around 10 November.

The Pants(less) Situation - a photo essay

2009-05-24T16:36:00.011+10:00

Slide One: Buster can you see the MonkeyFish under the bed? Yep.

Slide Two: (as Izzy idley chews on Busters hand) Come out right now young man!

Slide Three: Ok.

Slide Four: What happened to your pants? Oh, there they are.

Slide Five: Put your pants back on this instant. I don't think so.

Slide Six: You are going to have to make me put the pants back on! If you can reach me ...

LG, aka DIY Enforcer

2009-05-03T21:20:00.002+10:00

Buster finally gave in to his inevitable slide towards surburbia and has purchased a drill. Luckily I had a raft of DIY projects lying in wait for him - I mean, he needed to clock up some serious drill experience.

Project 1.
Hang the woodblock prints that we bought in Japan and have been in the cupboard for two years. DONE. Although we did disagree slightly on the type of picture hook required - I initially, and rather foolishly, thought that a 10kg hook was overkill. Apparently not.

Project 2.
Fix the door in the spare bedroom. DONE. This was an easy one, especially because I didn't have to do it. One of the screws that holds the door mechanism in plans was mismatched and had worked its way out a little bit. This was scraping on the jamb.

Project 3.
Install new towel rails and toilet roll holder in the ensuite. DONE. Well, almost. I'm still waiting for the hand towel hanger to go up but Buster can't hammer and drill while the MonkeyFish is asleep so this will have to wait until tomorrow. We had horrible, old plastic fittings that were a nasty pink colour. Now we have nice, shiny, geometric silver ones.

Project 4.
Install two new shelves. ON HOLD. Ok, this one is my fault. I haven't decided exactly where I want them yet.

I'm very impressed with my new home handyman. Well done Buster.

I love this article

2009-04-13T08:51:00.000+10:00

read it here.

The Ipod trip of hate

2009-04-07T21:07:00.002+10:00

Our car doesn't have an ipod jack. This means that we have to use a fm transmitter to listen to our ipod in the car. Our transmitter also plugs into the cigarette lighter because our old one didn't and the ipod was always flat because I never remembered to charge it. Unfortunately our cigarette lighter (although I think it is now called something else, more politically correct) is located in the centre console box thing. Which has led to our current problem. We plug the cable into the plug in the console box thing and then drape the cable over the lip so we can see the ipod and skip every other song. So we have to rest the lid of the box on the cable. Now the cable is on the verge of death from being squished in the gap that doesn't exist. The ipod only works if you hold the cable the right way, if it twists or moves, you lose reception. And if that wasn't bad enough, it's a crap transmitter too. If we drive past a car on the freeway or stop at the lights next to a car with a more powerful transmitter on the same station, we get their music. Last week we had to listen to a Bollywood extravaganza and yesterday we were afflicted with Nickelbacks greatest hits. It's gotten to the point where I almost have to physically restrain Buster from winding down the window and asking strangers what type of transmitter they are using because it is obviously better than ours.

Don't call me that!

2009-03-23T18:42:00.001+10:00

With the MonkeyFish child learning so many new words, it's sometimes difficult to figure out what he's trying say. He's been saying 'shoes' for a little while now but we couldn't figure out why he was saying it all the time.

The other morning, Buster got up early to get the MonkeyFish out of bed and the minute he hit the floor, he came tearing into the bedroom to see me. He starts banging on the bed and shouting 'shoes, shoes'. It finally dawned on us that he is calling me by my christian name.

So now we are Dadda, MonkeyFish and Suse. Nice work child.

Locked out

2009-03-23T18:31:00.001+10:00

I got locked out the other day by the child, again. He shuts the sliding screen back door after me and then realises that he'd rather follow me outside so he reaches up to the latch but he can't quite reach. Standing on tippy toes he can just reach the lever which locks the door when flipped down. And I'm locked out, a toddler, with monkey propensity, is locked in.

Now I have a system where I only ever 'snib' the front screen door. Then I walk around and poke my finger through the hole in the screen and unlock it. Luckily I didn't replace the front door ordinary netting with the tough-grade netting that is on the back door.

Sure, security is an issue, but I figure most burglars don't realise that the enormous black dog that jumps up the door is only checking for dog treats in unguarded pockets.

Stupid conversations

2009-03-06T10:32:00.003+10:00

LG: Hey Anita, I took your recommendation and I made an appointment to see your hairdresser next Friday.

Anita: Oh, great. I'm really happy with how he cuts my hair. But just be aware that he is married with two kids.

LG: Ok, I'll try not to hit on him then.

Anita: No, no, I mean, he's not a gay hairdresser.

LG: So he's a straight hairdresser then -not that there's anything wrong with that. I think I can cope.

Telly hijinks

2009-02-27T17:20:00.004+10:00

Last year we bought a new telly because the child managed to wrench the aerial socket out of the old one (it was 10 years old anyway) and it didn't work anymore. So we bought an LG one which we quite like aside from the ridiculous method of turning it on and off. It has this weird glowing light around a hole under the screen. Yep, an acutal hole that you put your finger in to switch it on and off. I'm sure it has a snazzier name but it's still an idea that they obviously should have thought through a little better. We were hoping that we could somehow disable it in the menus but it was not to be.

We try not to let the child watch too much telly and the remote lives high up on the bookshelf to save it from the indignities that child wishes to cause it. But he has now figured out how to turn the telly on himself but poking his finger in the hole. Even worse, the other night the dog was scrounging for left over kid food and stuck her nose in the hole and turned the telly off.

All the machinery is ganging up on me ...

2009-02-25T10:21:00.002+10:00

Ok, not really. It's mainly because I'm generally pretty hopeless. I haven't been able to figure out how to move this blog to my newer gmail account. But finally, it's done. Now I don't have to open blogspot, logout as my main gmail accout and login as my yahoo account to make a post. So a new photo to celebrate but nothing much to say.

Hair today

2009-01-30T21:45:00.003+10:00

I only every seem to get to the hairdresser about once every three months and today I trundled off for my quarterly appointment. I have terrible trouble with getting my hair coloured though because the colour is only really designed to last 6-8 weeks, so by week 12 I'm starting to look like a scarecrow. Today they had the fancy colour tech guy visiting (yes, that is his real job) and he suggested that because I'm trying to grow out the blond bits, they should colour it a bit darker than I want so that it will fade out to the colour I do want in three months. His exact words were "we'll colour for tomorrow, not today". And he was dead serious and looked totally surprised when I cracked up laughing.

Breakfast Adventure

2009-01-28T21:03:00.002+10:00

I was reading MC Etchers Breakfast Adventure and I can't help but wonder why anyone would eat a hot dog for breakfast. I can't think of single occasion when I have even thought "you know what, I really feel like a hot dog for breakfast today".

Sure, I've eaten cake (with and without ice cream), jam and cheese sandwiches, breakfast quiche, cheese and tomato toasties and even the odd danish along with regular type breakfasts - porridge, cereal, toast, fruit toast, cinnamon toast, yoghurt, fruit, muesli, smoked salmon, pancakes (again, with and without ice cream), baked beans on toast, eggs with mushrooms and spinach and, my personal favourite, lightly toasted crumpets with butter and honey.

Whenever we go out for breakfast, I almost always feel the need to have something extravagant for breakfast - you know, something that you are unlikely to make for yourself - buttermilk blueberry pancakes with honeycomb butter or vegetarian breakfast with scrambled tofu and chili chutney. Poached eggs always feels like a let down, I mean Buster makes excelled poached eggs, usually better than the cafe as well. Toast? Boring and it always arrives cold.

Perhaps the lure of the hot dog for breakfast is its simplicity - it's fast to make, easy to eat and satisfyingly bready. It's quite portable too - you could even eat it in the car on the way to work. Now if only I could work out a way to apply mascara and straighten my hair while driving and eating, my life would be complete.

Crema and other issues

2009-01-27T19:21:00.005+10:00

Here is a picture of the crema from our most recent batch of coffee beans. Admittedly over the New Year period there were an ill-advised few days of caffeine deprivation, but now we are back on the straight and, mostly, narrow one-cup-a-day regime.

My only marginally big news at the moment is the nearness of my 20 YEAR SCHOOL REUNION. If you don't feel old, try wearing my shoes for the day.

School reunion. The mere idea was enough to fill me with dread. Except Facebook has led me back into the path of the sinners. Well, old(ish) school friends anyway. I haven't seen any of them for at least 17 years and I was feeling a bit anxious about seeing them again. And you know what? It has been nowhere near as bad as I feared. In fact it is strangely comforting to see such old friends again. The biggest worry was the adolescent role. You know what I mean, the role you took on as part of your group of friends - did you still want that role, did it still fit, couldn't you just kill someone now...you know what I mean.

At high school, there were six of us - a larger group that paired off into two's. Jackie and Kim, Donna and Annette and Me and Kris. Four of the group have stayed in contact and consequently have a longer shared knowledge - marriage, children, divorce, second marriage, children etc. I've kind of just come in at the end so to speak. But it's really odd. I was expecting to feel left out and excluded (not deliberately, but just by shared history) but it hasn't been the case. Oddly enough, I feel like no time at all has passed - like I've blinked my eyes and the last 20 years haven't happened. We seem to still fit, which I hadn't expected at all.

Anyway, enough of my nausea-inducing nostalgia - if it's any consolation, I still don't feel like a grown-up.

New Years Pseudo-Resolution

2009-01-14T23:07:00.002+10:00

I've got about ten (well, maybe two) half-written posts sitting there but I never seem to get around to finishing them so nothing ever seems to get posted. I feel like I spent half my childhood wishing that the homework fairies would come to visit me and now I'm spending half my adult life wishing that the blog fairies would come to visit me.

In conclusion, this is ridiculous. You guys (well, I know I have at least three avid (ok, occassional) readers) so I'm no longer going to try to write a post that is coherent. I'm just going to post SOMETHING DAMMIT.

Totally out of context quote of the day - "but I need one, my edges are furry!"

Christmas

2008-12-08T07:30:00.003+10:00

Well, I was going to put up a picture of the MonkeyFish Child getting a present from Santa but unfortunately my mother came to the Christmas party and quickly squashed any dreams I had. Not any dreams obviously, just dreams of Santa photos.

The childcare centre where the MonkeyFish goes for two days a week had their Christmas Party at the park the other Sunday. It was a bring a plate affair with Santa bearing gifts and arriving in a hotrod, much to the delight of the little kids.

Buster made some Anzac biscuits to take along and my mum, eager to see the MonkeyFish with Santa, had brought along some leftover rumballs that she'd made for a Christmas Party the previous evening. Quite liking a rumball now and then, I tried one and nearly died of alcohol poisoning. Apparently there was an incident with the rum. The recipe said to put the sultanas in a bowl and then add enough rum to cover them. Unfortunately my mother didn't realise that as she was adding rum, the sultanas were merrily floating on the surface - so they kept rising as she kept adding.

I was worried that if I spoke to anyone, they'd smell the rum on my breath and think I was a lush. So we took the rumballs home and even the dog turned her nose up at them. Well, I guess there are worse fates.

Sad but true

2008-11-19T19:39:00.004+10:00

Well, it turns out that George the Russian who lives next door is not Russian, he's actually Polish. Quite disappointing really. I don't know much about being Polish - I shall have to do some research on the inter-ma-net so that I can cast dispersions of the appropriate sort.

Apparently he's off for a trip to the motherland shortly and asked if we could call his mobile if a bomb falls on his house. I pointed out that if a bomb fell on his house, we'd probably be in no fit state to be ringing him on his mobile as we'd be dead.

I get the feeling that George doesn't think I'm as amusing as I think I am. Mind you, he is nowhere near as amusing now that he is Polish.

Happening today at Casa Laziest

2008-11-13T14:39:00.002+10:00

This is what is happening today at our house.

I took the MonkeyFish child to Tiny Tots at 9.15am. Because it is a wet day, there were heaps of littlies there and it was chaos. MonkeyFish is still a bit overwhelmed at being in the older group and just stands there watching and not doing much else.

Now I have to take the dog to the vet. She's hurt her foot/leg again and won't put any weight on it and cries everytime it touches the ground. 3.10pm was the earliest they could fit me in

Buster's computer keeps crashing because it is too hot and the video card is fried and he doesn't want to spend any money on a new one. Yes, it's a Dell.

And worst of all, I have a hideous caffeine deprivation headache.

Scary, scary

2008-11-03T18:59:00.002+10:00

So Halloween this year was a bit disappointing - we only had two groups of kids at our door. I had such high hopes too. The cat was prowling the hallway and was doing her whole hellcat thang and Izzy, wearing black, is already dressed as a hellhound. I hadn't brushed my hair so was costumed as a fishwife, the child wasn't co-operating though and just wanted to go to bed. Anyway, the first lot arrived before dark and I dished out Freddo Frogs to a demon, a witch and a miscellaneous monster. Upon receipt of their treat, they all roared and howled as appropriate and then started to leave until they were cut short by a voice from the end of the driveway - "I hope you said thank you". It's hard to be a tough monster when your mum is ensuring that you remember your manners.

The second lot turned up and were very pleased with their Freddos. They were escorted by someone's older brother dressed in his Emergency Services Cadet uniform. I wasn't sure if the older brother was in costume or not so I asked if he wanted a Freddo and got a "no thank you" with an incredulous look. Obviously was too big to participate in Halloween frivolity. Talk about being old before your time - he wasn't a day over 14.

God Bless Hanaro (the Asian Conbini)

2008-10-22T08:44:00.002+10:00

One of the girls at work has, what might be considered, an addiction to wasabi peas and she found a little Asian Convenience store near where we work. Yesterday afternoon I went to have a look what they had and discovered a cornucopia of delicious Japanese snacks.

Pocky of course being a well-known Japanese delicacy, Pretz which was good to eat on the train because it wasn't messy, Hello Panda which my kids all ate, Meiji chocolate which doesn't taste like proper chocolate, Wasabi peas in a tin and Morinaga caramels which I ate by the ton.

Now all we need is a episode of The L Word or So You Think You Can Dance with Japanese subtitles.

30 Days

2008-09-28T19:05:00.002+10:00

We've all spent the weekend being disease ridden. On Thursday, the MonkeyFishChild had a tummy bug and was a bit pukey. Yesterday, both Buster and I got it too. And this is on top of the cold that he'd already given us earlier in the week. And then today I had to go to the doctor as my cold has become a chest infection so I needed antibiotics. So it's been buckets of fun at our place.

Tonight we decided to watch the first episode of Morgan Spurlock's new show - 30 Days. It was quite shocking actually. I couldn't believe how expensive the medical care was. Having just gone to the doctor on a Sunday, I couldn't believe that the emergency room charged them so much money for their visits. Not only that, but how would you manage to have a family on that kind of income? They barely managed to feed themselves.

It makes me wonder if things are the same here in Australia. I know healthcare isn't such a big issue (although our hospitals aren't looking too flash at the moment and you could possibly die while still in the waiting room) - you can always find a clinic that bulk-bills so it doesn't cost anything. Our regular doctor bulk-bills for children Monday to Friday so we never have to pay for the child. You also can get a healthcare card if you are a low income earner so you also get medications cheaper. But I'm certain that being on a low income is still as difficult. It's ok while things are going well, but if the washing machine or the fridge breaks down and you can't afford to fix it - you are screwed.

It made me thank my lucky stars.

Ridiculous excuse for a dog

2008-09-18T18:40:00.002+10:00

Yesterday, Izzy started limping around like she'd been crippled - her back left foot was hurting. This morning she was still doing the weird bunny hop thing so I took her to the vet thinking that she might have somehow broken her toe while galloping up and down the backyard.

Izzy is a bit skittish with people she doesn't know, let alone the vet, so I had to drag her over the threshold and it was not a good start. Firstly she tried to bite the vet as she examined the sore foot. Izzy has never even growled at the child and he climbs all over her so I thought, that's ok, her foot must be very sore. So I got a tight grip on her collar while the vet continued the examination. Izzy was whimpering and rolling her eyes so I was expecting the vet to start talking about x-rays. But no. She hasn't broken her toe. Or even sprained her toe. She has pretty much stubbed her toe. No swelling, no nothing.

And then the vet says that Izzy has the lowest pain threshold of any Greyhound that she has ever treated.

Damn dog.

If you were a 'Masters of the Universe' character?

2008-08-15T10:46:00.002+10:00

Buster made me clean out my side of the wardrobe last night. Yes, he made me. He stood in the doorway and wouldn't let me out until it was tidy and sorted. Apparently he was sick of my side looking like a clothes bomb had gone off while his side was tidy and ordered in, I might add, a distinctly pathological manner.

It was actually quite traumatic. I had to make decisions and, as you know, I am a confirmed decision-phobe.

I had to sort out everything in the cupboard into only three piles - the hang in the wardrobe pile, the charity pile and the too big/too small pile (which I managed to compromise to a store in the spare room in case I shrink or blimp). It was awful but surprisingly cathartic.

I probably gave about a fifth to charity, two-fifths to the too big/too small pile and retained the remaining two-fifths in the cupboard. I also gave three handbags and three pairs of shoes to charity.

So now my cupboard looks a bit bare but at least I can wear everything. Apparently if I was a 'Masters of the Universe" character my name would be 'Hoardac the Horder'. No big surprises there then.

Squirmy speaks!

2008-08-04T19:00:00.002+10:00

So Squirmy is now 13 months old and has finally decided to attempt to communicate with us using our native language (although he still relies on squealing to get his own way most of the time). His first word was 'ta'. For months we've been saying 'ta' every time we gave him something or took something off him, and on Thursday, he finally said 'ta'.

Buster was bit disappointed to miss the first word, so when Squirmy was in the bath, Buster starting giving him a toy, then taking it off him and saying 'ta'. Squirmy politely said 'ta' a few times until Buster put the toy down and went to lift him out of the bath. Squirmy, realising that he wasn't getting the toy back, sat there with his hand out saying 'ta, ta, ta, ta, ta, ta'.

Obviously, while I think 'ta' means thank you, Squirmy has figured out that it really means 'gimme, gimme, gimme'. Bless him.

Now we've moved on from 'ta' and are working on 'no'. On Saturday he was on the other side of the dining table and was playing with the power pack for the laptop and talking to himself 'no, no, no, no'. Now I know when he's doing something naughty because I can hear him saying 'no, no, no, no' to himself. Funny little guy.

Visiting Brisbane?

2008-08-04T18:30:00.003+10:00

Planning a visit to Brisbane, well, do I have a itinerary for you!

Day One: A wild bird will sit on your head.

Day Two: Visit the local Japanese Garden*.

Day Three: Take a photo of some sheep.

Day Four: Hug a koala and then feed some wallabies**.

One of our friends from Japan recently came out for a short holiday to visit us so we've been doing the tourist thang lately. It was actually kind of fun to look at our home town through the eyes of a tourist - a Japanese tourist at that.

Miki was a friend of the guy who ran the coffee van, Daisuke (pronounced Dice-kay if you are interested). Daisuke introduced Buster to Miki and then Buster introduced me to Miki which is the way things are done in Japan. Anyway, Miki finally got a week off (she's a librarian) and came to visit us and meet Squirmy.

It was so much fun to catch up and show her around. She couldn't believe how multi-cultural Australia is. In Japan, most people are Japanese or white foreigners, so she was really surprised at how many different skin colours there are here. Nor could she believe how much we ate. Everytime we went out for breakfast or lunch, she could only eat about half of what was on her plate. She arrived as skinny Japanese Miki and went home as fat Australian Miki.

*Yes, I know she's Japanese.
**Not the rugby playing variety.

Papal query.

2008-07-21T11:16:00.003+10:00

So the Pope (or the Big Boss Priest as we refer to him (more on this later)) has been visiting Australia and he's been on the news every time I turn the telly on.

Why does the Pope wear such snazzy red shoes? I mean the rest of the outfit is standard traditional gear - a fair bit fancier than your average, run of the mill, priest, but why the funky footwear?

Look it up y'all.

Winter in Brisbane

2008-06-27T15:03:00.002+10:00

The other day I took Izzy and Squirmy out for a walk around the lake and it was real pretty so I took a couple of photos for your viewing pleasure.

Flickr Meme

2008-06-04T22:25:00.001+10:00

Flickr Meme, originally uploaded by suseking.

My turn, my turn -

The Questions:

1. What is your first name?
2. What is your favorite food?
3. What high school did you go to?
4. What is your favorite color?
5. Who is your celebrity crush?
6. Favorite drink?
7. Dream vacation?
8. Favorite dessert?
9. What you want to be when you grow up?
10. What do you love most in life?
11. What do you fear most?
12. One Word to describe you.

Some days, even catching the bus is fraught with difficulties.

2008-06-04T20:39:00.005+10:00

You remember ages ago that I went to put my toll money in the collection thing at the toll booth and dropped my money all over the road? Today I was catching the bus home when something similar happened.

I was waiting in line at the bus station in town with about 4 million other people. The bus pulls up, the glass doors slide open and everyone starts to file on the bus. Sometimes the glass doors try to close at random and squish whoever is in the doorway, so I'm keeping an eye on the doors in case I need to press the green button. I finally clear the killer doors and I look around the people in front of me to try to see which side of the door the ticket machine is - and a huge gust of wind plucks my ticket from my hand and it blows under the bus. Oh crap. I look under the bus but I can't reach the ticket.

"Um, my ticket just blew under your bus". "Sorry, what?"
"My ticket just blew under your bus and I can't reach it"
"Oh" (extended pause) "is there a bus behind me?"
"What?"
"Is there a bus behind me?" "Ahh, no"
"OK, hang on" *driver reverses bus five metres back down the platform*
*LG dashes onto the roadway and picks up ticket*
*driver moves bus forward up to the doorway while shaking with mirth*

So, much to the amusement of the rest of the passengers (and my relief), my ticket is rescued and I get on the bus. Thankfully I managed the rest of the trip home without dropping my handbag and spilling it's content down the aisle.

Wedding pics as promised

2008-05-27T19:58:00.004+10:00

You know what I hate?

2008-05-14T16:03:00.002+10:00

Ok, so there's not just one thing and out of the myriad of things that I hate, I can't really expect you to guess the exact thing can I?

But I really receiving documents that have been drafted by someone with poor MS Word skills. You know, when you get an email with some important missive from the toffs above and you have your computer set to see all the returns and tabs in the documents (like the old-fashioned reveal codes) and it looks like crap?

When the person who created the document has used five tabs to indent an important bit instead of setting it so it is just one long, custom sized tab. When they have tabs that go nowhere or tabs to set out information that should have been put in a table. When they've just used the standard indent for bullets instead of tidying it up properly in the ruler bar. When at the end of the document there is a random collection of 10 or so returns that are purposeless. When the consistency of the document is poor and they don't adjust the margins for the last paragraph so it remains indented as if it is part of a list.

It really annoys me. Particularly because I now feel like my nanna complaining about shoddy workmanship.

Four feet and a cold, wet nose ...

2008-05-05T19:49:00.004+10:00

Buster and I decided that we wanted a dog, after all, every dog needs a little boy and we already had the little boy - we just need the perfect dog to match. Intense negotiations followed to decide what type of dog should be chosen. Should we get a pure bred dog, a cross bred dog or rescue a dog from the RSPCA? I wanted a pure bred dog but Buster was keen on rescuing a dog - it seemed we were at a stalemate. But then we met a lady on one of our morning walks and she had a very special dog who we liked very much and actually met both of our wants - pure bred AND a rescue dog. So we rang them up, we were interviewed, we passed the interview and then we waited. And waited. And waited for the perfect child-loving, cat-friendly dog to join our family.

And finally, our family has just expanded by four feet and a cold, wet nose - we have been joined by Izzy the Greyhound.

Izzy is a 15 month old, rescued greyhound and is black with a little bit of white on her back feet. She's younger than most of the rescue greyhounds because she broke her little doggy wrist and was unable to race anymore. Thankfully her trainer thought she deserved a second chance and put her up for adoption through the Greyhound Adoption Program.

She is absolutely gorgeous and has the most lovely manners. She is very eager to please and seems to be settling in well. Obviously the cat hates her with a passion, but hopefully the cat will get over it pretty soon, as Izzy mostly ignores her. Squirmy was very excited on Saturday morning when he woke up to find Izzy sniffing his feet.

Contrary to popular belief, Greyhounds only need 30 minutes of exercise a day and are very lazy, so much so that they are often referred to as "living room furniture". Nor are they vicious - the muzzle that they have to wear in public is a council requirement, not a reflection on their temperament.

So if you see someone walking a dishlicker, go and say hi!

Surprise

2008-04-30T20:22:00.002+10:00

Buster and I got married on Sunday! I'll put up pics soon.

Things that make Squirmy laugh

2008-04-21T21:45:00.002+10:00

Me, being bitten by the Cat-from-Hell as I walk up the hallway.

Dog Couriers

2008-04-13T16:55:00.006+10:00

On Friday, Buster, Squirmy and I drove up to Ipswich to see a man about a dog. Well, actually it was a lady and we didn't just see a dog, we picked up a dog. Don't get carried away, we didn't get to keep said dog, we were merely dog couriers.

Busters older brother and his family have recently acquired a red German Pinscher called Jerry and decided that they needed another wee dog (but black and tan) to complete their family. As they live interstate, we were coerced (well, they rang and asked) into collecting the dog (whose name for the purposes of this pointless post shall be Not-Jerry) and then meeting them halfway between the dog collection point and their home. The halfway point, luckily, turned out to be Ikea (which I meant I could look at the kids table and chairs for Squirmy).

Anyway, to cut a short story even shorter, Not-Jerry turned out to be nearly fully grown and wouldn't fit in the carrier we had brought with us so we ended up tying his lead to one of the child restraints in the Golf so he didn't jump around too much. He had just enough length in the lead to rest his little paws on the baby seat and kiss Squirmy McBaby's feet thus making him giggle almost the entire trip.

Not-Jerry was duly delivered to his new family and is currently be loved to death.

Birds

2008-03-22T20:13:00.014+10:00

Our garden is being taken over by Nature and, while I grudgingly admit that nature is the whole point of the garden, these feathered invaders are terrorising the cat, so they have to go. This is one of a pair of scrub turkeys that have recently tried to annexe our garden. We always know when they have come over the fence because Boo the Cat comes hurtling inside, absolutely terrified.

They don't generally eat cat, but they are easily bigger than she is and have big pointy beaks. So out we go to chase them away over the fence.

Aside from chasing the cat, they also tend to scratch up huge piles of dead vegetation in which to lay their eggs. They then add or remove leaves to keep the centre of the pile at the correct temperature for the eggs. While this is admirable, I don't particularly fancy having a 2 metre pile of rotting vegetation in our garden.

These little feathered beauties don't scare the cat but they are really loud right outside our bedroom window. They also take particular pride in their contribution to the dawn chorus.

So, Nature, as a compromise, perhaps the lorikeets can stay but the scrub turkeys must find somewhere else.

Squirmiest McBaby

2008-03-19T17:57:00.003+10:00

Babysitting

2008-03-01T20:32:00.003+10:00

My niece stayed at our house on Friday night and she is such a sweetie. Firstly she wanted to watch "Alvin and the Chickmumps". I explained to her that they were Chipmunks and she agreed wholeheartedly, but then continued to refer to them as the Chickmumps.

At breakfast this morning, Buster asked her if she thought that he needed to get his hair cut and she said "your hair looks like the wind at the front". Buster and I are still discussing whether that is a positive or a negative. We asked about her step-dad whose shaves his head - apparently he doesn't need a haircut as he has "tiny hairs".

Squirmy is turning into a little boy

2008-02-28T08:16:00.002+10:00

the horror of the baby forum - truly and honestly

2008-02-20T21:55:00.000+10:00

My daughter is nearly nine months and still doesn't have much hair.. I wonder if she came out with hardly any hair because I was eating curries like every day, or something.. Anyway, I wonder what can I feed her to make her hair grow. Is she lacking something to help the growth?

Did anyone else have this issue?

She had more hair at birth, then I think it must have fell out, and then she had three bald patches, and now it is growing very very slowly. She still has the bald patches but not as bad as before.

Let me out !!!!!!!!!

2008-02-07T11:03:00.001+10:00

Squirmy can now get himself into the sitting position and so whenever he is put in his cot for a nap, this is what he does.

DSC02788

He wiggles down to then end of the cot nearest the door, and sits there waiting for me to open the door to check if he is asleep. Usually this is accompanied by howls of indignation at being left on his own in the baby cage.

Call the bug man

2008-02-07T10:57:00.001+10:00

While I don't usually have problem with the odd creepy crawly - I draw the line at finding a Redback spider in the dining room. Nasty little creatures which bite and a quite poisonous. So, tomorrow, the bug man is coming to kill everything insectoid and bugoid. Hooray.

DSC02792

Litany of the lost

2008-01-29T13:19:00.000+10:00

As most of you know, there is always a teetering pile of books on my bedside table. It's usually quite tall and usually on the verge of collapse (thus crushing me in my sleep and robbing the world of my genius, or not). And you'd think, that with so many books, there would also be an absolute plethora of bookmarks. But there isn't. No matter how many I buy or am given, when I need a bookmark there is never one to be had and I end up using an old bus ticket, grocery shopping receipt, post-it note or gum wrapper.

And it's not just bookmarks that seem to disappear. Bobby pins and lip balm are the other regular trouble makers in our house with biros and water bottles listed as repeat offenders. I would include socks on the list, but for some reason only one sock ever disappears. And now that we have Squirmy McBaby and all of his accoutrements, the number of things that can never be found has literally doubled - bibs, baby wipes, the little bits that stop the bottles from leaking, dummy covers - the list is quite extraordinary.

Teaspoons are another odd item that seem to vanish into the ether. We started with twelve teaspoons and now have nine. Where did those other three go? Teaspoons usually go from drawer to usage to dishwasher and back to the drawer so how do they vanish?

The worst part is that I'm certain that these few things are just the tip of the iceberg.

Crying

2008-01-20T18:48:00.001+10:00

Now everyone knows that I have a tendency to cry during movies. For example, I've owned a copy of Watership Down on DVD for about 6 years and have never watched it because it will just make me cry.

But this week has been an exceptionally weepy week and I've watched three things that have made me cry.

1. Juno - c'mon you all cried during this one, admit it.
2. Madmen - the end where Peggy was at the hospital - it was terribly sad.
3. Atonement - pretty much any part of the movie which showed the war made me cry.

While it's nice to be in touch with your feelings, I am mostly feeling dehydrated.

Kung Fu Night

2008-01-13T21:50:00.000+10:00

So tonight is Kung Fu Night at Casa Laziest. Not that we actually have a regular Kung Fu event, there just happened to be two Kung Fu movies that required watching.

The first one was "Kung Fu Hustle" which is fabulous. Oddly enough, I'd forgotten that I'd seen it before(thus rising in Buster's esteem) and only remembered about 5 minutes into the film. It's a funny film - easy to follow and amusing to watch.

The second film was "Seven Swords" which is utterly incomprehensible. Aside from the inexplicably complicated storyline, our copy has the dodgiest of subtitles. Whenever there is a lot of talking, the subtitles just cut out until the action slows down and they start up again. I was totally lost by about 10 minutes in, so I gave up and started internetting*. I think Buster managed about 20 minutes before he lost track of the story. And that's the difference between us. I gave up and started playing tetris, but Buster perseveres, hoping against all reason that the story will become apparent.

* That is the technical term for reading blogs, visiting imdb and looking at other pointless drivel.

Squirmy Away!!!

2008-01-07T10:59:00.000+10:00

Squirmy is now two days short of being seven months old and over Christmas, decided he's ready to get moving.

For the past month, he's been turning around in circles on his tummy and has now figured out how to push himself around backwards on his tummy (and consequently wedge himself under the coffee table). But shortly after Christmas, he got up on his hands and knees and started rocking back and forth. And last night he did his first commando-crawl-shuffle forwards.

This is all very exciting because, up until now, he's just been lying on the floor like a big pudding while all the other babies are rolling and wiggling around.

Bah humbug

2007-12-14T08:53:00.000+10:00

So the day started off promising enough. Firstly I went to Target to buy some new little suits for Squirmy who seems to be growing at a rate knots. I found a five pack of the little suits I wanted which were 20% off. So I took them to the register where they scanned up at the regular price. They rang childrenswear to confirm that the suits were indeed 20% off - to discover the discount was on children's wear only and not on underwear. Because the rack was labelled as 20% off, I got the suits at the lower price anyway.

Then I went to the Medibank Private to claim back part of my acupuncture fees only to find that I'd left the receipt at home.

Then I went to the photo place to get some photos printed out only to find that they were having computer problems and the photos couldn't be ready on the same day.

Then I went to the post office to buy a couple of iTunes gift cards for Busters brother for Christmas only to find that they don't have the cards in the value I want. Being preoccupied trying to stop the baby from grabbing things off the shelves, I didn't realise that the guy on the counter was giving me the voucher things that come from the register and not an actual card. Of course I want the gift card - it's a gift - idiot.

In the end, I was fed up with everything being crap so I went home. When I took the little suits out of the wrapper to show Buster, one of the little suits was a size smaller than the rest so now I have to take them back.

It's no wonder I hate Christmas shopping.

Squirmy and his new toy sheep

2007-11-29T20:38:00.000+10:00

And no, the sheep is not trying to take out his jugular.

Budgies and babies

2007-11-27T18:45:00.001+10:00

Budgies are a native Australian parrot that are also kept as pets. If a budgie becomes sick in the wild, it will become a target for predators, so it is in the best interests of the budgie to hide any illness and pretend that they are not ill. This means that if you have a pet budgie, they will also generally hide any sickness until they are so sick that it is usually too late to do anything about it and they fall off the proverbial perch.

Babies, on the other hand, don't hide sickness but are masters at concealing tiredness. Actually, they don't conceal tiredness but they are masters of making you think that you were mistaken when you thought they were tired. Let me explain further.

Squirmy McBaby will be happily playing on his mat and will then suddenly start to grizzle. Ok, now is he tired or just sick of being on his mat? Ok, let's play something else and the baby stops grizzling and is all smiles. Ten minutes later, and he's rubbing his eyes and arching his back. Yep, he's tired all right so off to bed for a nap. Pick the baby up, carry him to his room and put him in his bed. As soon as he hits the mattress he kicks his little legs and gives you the biggest smile ever and acts like he is the least tired little boy in the whole world.

While I haven't yet worked out the evolutionary or biological imperative behind this behaviour, I'm sure it'll come to me when I get a bit more sleep.

Laughing Squirmy McBaby

2007-11-19T20:00:00.000+10:00

Snoring again

2007-11-19T16:17:00.000+10:00

LG: "Buster, roll over you're snoring",
Buster: "I find that hard to believe".

Gardening at Casa Laziest

2007-11-05T12:13:00.000+10:00

In the garden bed that runs along our driveway and separates our garden from George next doors, are three ugly and overgrown palm-type, multi-trunk plants. They, as is the nature of palm-type plants, are scrappy looking and shed fronds with frightening regularity. Not do they look ugly and make a mess, but they are also possessed by demons.

If, perchance, you decide to leave the car in the driveway instead of driving it into the garage, perhaps because you are going out again later and definitely not because you always stall the car when you try to drive it into the garage, they seem to lurk closer in a dense and intimidating manner. The driver can safely exit the vehicle, but if you try to get out the passenger side, you are smothered by their frondy-fingers which are very poky. Trying to get the baby out of his safety seat, fend off the fronds and then close the car door without allowing any palm fronds to take up residence within the car is no mean feat.

So today I saw George and tried to ascertain who is the actual owner of the Palms of Doom. George wanted to know why, so I outlined my long term plan for the future, which involves ripping all the palms out and planting Lillie Pillies. George, in an attempt to understand my motives, asked why I wanted to get rid of the Palms of Doom. I outlined my reasons, and George, while baffled by all my outlining, remained a true gentlemen and offered to prune back the offending fronds. "Why, thank you George", I said and went back inside to tell Buster. Several minutes later, I was roused by the sound of a chainsaw and went back out the front to find George "pruning" not just the offending fronds, but the offending trunks of the Palms of Doom, at ground level.

So he's exorcised about five trunks, which has made a tremendous difference to the state of the driveway. Let that be a lesson to the rest of you evil, frondy palms out there. Don't mess with a Russian with a chainsaw.

The time has come to remedy the situation

2007-10-26T21:10:00.000+10:00

Buster is currently teaching me to drive. Oh, I can drive a car with an automatic transmission, but I've never learnt to drive a manual transmission. I realise that this sounds a bit mad, but there it is. Every car I've ever owned has been automatic so driving a manual has never been necessary.

But the Golf is a manual and after ten months of being chauffeured around, I decided it was time to learn. I mean, it was getting ridiculous - I'm an adult and it can't be that hard. So we had a few turns of driving around the block, then we graduated to driving to the local shops and today I drove home from visiting my mum. It's not going too badly actually. I haven't crashed or driven into the lake so I think Buster is counting his blessings.

However it is a huge pain. I mean, no sooner than you start moving in 1st, you've got to change up to 2nd. Then you can't stay in 2nd, you've got to go up to 3rd and then 4th. Oh, and then you approach a round-about so it's down all the way to 1st because some idiot on the round-about doesn't indicate where he's going. So then it's 1st, then 2nd, then 3rd etc ad nauseum. And the worst thing is that I can't eat or put my make up on anymore while driving because I am constantly having to change gear.

The hardest thing, don't laugh, is getting the damn car in the garage. For starters I worry that I'll be going too fast and I'll hit the wall at the end of the garage. Or I'll scrape the car on the side of the garage door. So I end up going too slow and stalling either half up the curb or half in the garage - or, like this afternoon, stalling it both half up the curb and then again when I was half in the garage.

While the Golf has a fairly forgiving nature, I think Buster is a bit traumatised by my gear grinding.

Another pointless story from the life of Laziest

2007-10-23T19:02:00.000+10:00

When we first moved into our house, our next door neighbour, George, came over to introduce himself. But until now, we hadn't met his wife or his teenage kids. We often see the kids walking past but there has been some debate in our house regarding the existence of the wife. We always hear George sitting in his back garden, drinking vodka (presumably) but we've never heard the Mrs.

But, yesterday I met her for the first time. I was outside, about to take the baby to the park, when I saw her and George outside their house. I walked over and said hi to George and then said to Mrs George, "Hi, we've never met, I'm Laziest". I swear she looked me up and down and then said, "I am Lydia". Just like that (but with a Count Dracula accent) - I am Lydia.

And that was all she had to say.

Something of interest

2007-10-11T19:26:00.000+10:00

You know, I've been really slack about posting lately. Not because I don't have anything to say - more that I don't have anything to say about anything other than Squirmy. For this, I apologise.

When I was pregnant, I swore that I would never be one of those women who have nothing to talk about except the baby. And now, here I am, with nothing to talk about except the baby. I can't help it. I open my mouth, a short opener prepared in my mind, perhaps regarding the latest change to Australia's immigration policy, when out comes "I can't believe Squirmy has learnt to pick his toys up - and he's nearly sitting up on his own - and he's rolling over from his tummy to his back" etc.

It's truly terrible.

Oh wait, I'm currently torn between watching "So you think you can dance?" or "Inspector Rex". Does that count as something of interest - maybe we could discuss the pros and the cons?

Quite Interesting

2007-10-07T20:51:00.000+10:00

Did you know that if you eat nothing but rabbit, you will eventually die of malnutrition? Apparently, it's quite true - Stephen Fry told me.

Baby starts school - well sort of

2007-09-26T21:33:00.000+10:00

Today we had a trial lesson at Gymboree. For those of you not in the know, Gymboree is like a childrens play/learning class although I'm sure they'd come up with a better one line description. You pretty much take your baby along to a class once a week with a bunch of other mums and their babies (all around the same age) and play little games and sing songs etc.

Squirmy really liked it for the first half hour but then we did an exercise where you lie the baby on the ground under the play equipment and shine a torch on the different coloured material that's draped over it. He started screaming as soon as I lay him on the ground. So we sat out for the last 10 minutes while Squirmy had a nap to recover from the over stimulation. I was pleased to see that by the end of the 45 minutes, almost all of the babies were getting cranky, so it wasn't just Squirmy.

The proper term starts next week, so Squirmy and I have signed up for the lessons - I hope he enjoys it and can keep the screeching to a minimum.

Just your average 6 year old

2007-09-21T19:21:00.000+10:00

My 6 year old niece, EJ, has been staying with us for few days and I have to say, 6 year olds are quite funny because they have the attention span of your average house plant.

It takes nearly 30 minutes to get dressed for school because on the way to the bedroom you have to play with the cat, look at the dead lizard on the floor, find your favourite pencil at the bottom of your school bag, find auntie because you have to blow your nose, see if the dead lizard is still dead, pull faces at the baby, show the baby the animal noises book, show the baby the dead lizard, show the baby the cat, ask auntie for a drink of water etc.

The only negative about 6 year olds is the amount of dirt that they accumulate - it's quite amazing. EJ takes her shoes off in the bathroom and then I take them out side and empty out the dirt and sand. The only feasible explanation for the sheer amount of dirt she accumulates is that she actually rolls in it. After her bath, I actually have to wash the topsoil out of the bathtub.

The baby is really enjoying her visit too. When she has a bath at night, I buckle Squirmy McBaby into is his little rocker chair and leave him in the bathroom with her. She's sings him little songs and tells him about school that day while he lies there cooing and laughing. It's very cute.

The baby goes on holiday and takes us with him.

2007-09-18T13:54:00.000+10:00

We got back to Brisbane last night after our extended weekend in Sydney. It was a big weekend for birthdays - with Buster, his twin brother (who lives in Sydney) and his brother's partner all on the same day. Buster's brother invited us down for the big birthday gala event which was held in their flash little terrace house.

On Friday we caught the bus to Circular Quay and then caught the ferry across the harbour to Taronga Zoo. I'd never been to Taronga Zoo before and it was really good. I know the baby enjoyed it enormously, although he did sleep through most of it.

Saturday night was the big birthday party, so we wrapped the baby up and put him to bed in our bed. We popped up to check on him every half hour or so, but he happily slept through it all. I ate a great deal of birthday cake. It was fabulous.

On the way home on Monday night, our plane was delayed but they managed to fit us on an earlier flight - which was also delayed. By the time we finally got on the damn plane, I was knackered. Some people get so cranky when flying don't they - there was this guy with sunglasses on standing at the front of the line to board the plane and they called for people travelling with infants and small children to board the plane first. As we walked past, the guy was giving us the filthiest look - for pity's sake - if you have a baby or small kids, you are usually the last one off the plane so it's not like we had some huge advantage. We saw him again at the baggage pick up - he was still wearing the sunnies and was picking up his Louis Vuitton suitcase. I tried to get the baby to puke on him, but the baby refused to co-operate. I so wanted to tell him that Louis Vuitton was chavy.

The kleptomaniac cat

2007-09-10T09:28:00.000+10:00

The cat has struck again but this time she is stealing from our kitchen. This morning I noticed a bunch of yellow stuff spilt over the floor under the table.

Further investigation revealed that the yellow stuff was actually a bag of polenta that I had foolishly left on the shelf over the microwave. She'd pulled it off the shelf and chewed through the bag. We finally found the bag, half-empty and chewed to bits, under the spare bed.

After spending half the night dragging a bag of polenta around the house, poor Boo-cat obviously needed a pick-me-up - so she went for the coffee beans.

She only chewed through the bottom bits that are sealed together so we didn't have a caffeine crisis this morning. I think her lack of opposable thumb is the only thing that is holding her back from taking over the house.

Coffee dreaming

2007-09-07T12:13:00.000+10:00

Apparently the time has come for me to learn to use the coffee machine, or so I am told. Buster may live to regret this idea. Last night I dreamt that I was in charge of making the coffee.

In my dream, Buster had given me lessons on how to do it and that this was my first time to do it alone with no help. I got the cups out and then couldn't remember what I was meant to do next. I forgot to put fresh coffee in the little thing and started making the coffee using the used coffee. Then I realised I had the wrong sized cups and as the coffee started to come out, it was spraying all over the kitchen. I tried to refill the little thing with new coffee while coffee was still squirting through. I managed to tip the ground coffee all over the bench and floor. Think Lucille Ball in the chocolate factory. Then Buster came in to see how the coffee was going and I was trying to stand in front of the mess. "It's fine", I kept saying, "it's fine".

Wait for the big old man sneezes.

2007-09-05T16:12:00.000+10:00

Just watch for the tongue.

2007-09-05T16:07:00.001+10:00

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

2007-08-29T22:22:00.000+10:00

Today we bought a coffee machine. Not a fancy, smancy hideously expensive one, just a regular one and we are feeling very pleased with ourselves. On the way home from the shop, we stopped at the good coffee shop and bought some beans to grind in the new grinder for the whole coffee experience. And, the coffee was rather nice. I personally would like to spend the entire night gazing at the coffee machine on the kitchen bench but that could be the caffeine talking.

Meow

2007-08-27T19:52:00.000+10:00

More vaccinations this week at Casa Laziest but this time it is the poor cat. Yep, she's due for her yearly round of vaccinations and is booked in for Tuesday morning. But I'd ask you to keep this to yourself for now, I don't want her to get worried.

She's also being a little monster at the moment because she's feeling a bit neglected with the baby and all. We've been making an effort to spend extra time with her, but the wet weather has only made it worse. A bored cat is a naughty cat and the latest trick is to lurk in the hallway and leap out to bite any passing ankles. She also sits on the couch next to me and waits to be patted. When the patting stops, her little paw comes up to pat your arm. It's very cute. But then she gets overstimulated and resorts to biting my elbow. Which is not cute.

Ouch, that hurt!

2007-08-14T11:05:00.000+10:00

The poor baby had to have his 2 month old vaccinations yesterday and it sucked. He had one injection in the left leg, two in the right leg and one dose of an oral vaccine. And he didn't like it one bit. Thankfully he stopped crying pretty quick but the vaccines make them irritable and unsettled all day so everytime I put him down he started crying again until he was picked up again. And at nearly 6kgs, my arms were quite tired by bedtime.

But at least he won't get:

Pneumococcal;
Polio;
Diptheria;
Tetanus;
Pertussis;
Hepatitis B; or
Haemophilus Influenzae type B.

The oral vaccine is a new one called Rotatec and prevents a particular strain of common gastroenteritis.

Thankfully he is a much happier camper today. And he's started chuckling and laughing when he smiles. It's the cutest thing ever.

He's also started sleeping all night now so we are pretty excited - last night he went to sleep at 9pm and woke up at 6am. He had something to eat and then drifted back off to sleep until 8am. Admittedly I also went back to sleep while poor Buster had to get up and do some work.

We are also back walking again. Now that he's sleeping so well, and I'm not so tired, I have no excuses for avoiding exercise. We've been going for an hours walk down around the lake and back with the baby in the pram. I'll try to remember to take my camera next time so I can show you some pictures.

It's official

2007-08-10T22:02:00.000+10:00

Yes, it's official. The cat is definitely a kleptomaniac. Today I found her hidden in the back of the wardrobe, playing with a strange shoelace. It was a leopard print shoelace and neither Buster, nor I, have ever owned such a thing. Now if I could only train her to bring home useful things. Like a new car. Or a smart, leather handbag. Or a big tax return.

Just one more little mystery

2007-08-06T17:05:00.000+10:00

This afternoon I was baking Anzac biscuits when I looked under the table and saw the strangest thing. Resting on our green shopping bags (that I left on the floor - sloth that I am) was a smallish, brown square thing. Upon closer examination, ie on my hands and knees, it proved to be a chocolate crackle.

How on earth did a chocolate crackle decide to make its final resting place the green bags under our table? I mean, for an inanimate object, and a delicious lunch box treat at that, it seems odd.

I rang our dinner guests from last night to ascertain if any of them had secreted the chocolate crackle under the table, but no one was owning up to it. Buster denied any knowledge of it, as did the baby, so the only logical explanation (aside from the aliens leaving it there - they were too busy last night not putting their coffee cups in the dishwasher) is that the cat did it.

Update to date

2007-08-04T21:59:00.000+10:00

The baby is eight weeks old today and in the last two weeks has started to smile. Not just smiling in his sleep, or smiling just prior to puking up, but smiling for real. He's smiling at you now when you talk to him or sing to him - he's especially smiley in the shower (which he loves).

He's also just developed the tongue thrust reflex. The tongue thrust reflex is like a safety device that babies have - if something goes in their mouth, their tongue sticks out and thus averts a possible choking incident. It's also incredibly cute. You get a big smile and then the little tongue comes out at you. Very cute indeed.

I just finished reading Snow Falling on Cedars which was quite good but nothing much else is happening.

Oh - and if you are on Facebook, please look me up, it's driving me crazy that Buster has more friends than me.

Mondegren du Jour

2007-07-24T17:33:00.000+10:00

"and there was this lady, she was oppressed with a plant in Thailand".

Driving this afternoon with two of Buster's nieces in the back of the car (two of the triplets) when they started rattling on about their favourite tv shows which included some medical emergency show that I've never seen. Laura was explaining the most recent episode when I misheard her. Apparently the lady actually had breast implants in Thailand which ended in some non-specific disaster.

Hot tips ...

2007-07-21T18:20:00.000+10:00

Here are a few tips for the new parent:

Invest in a couple of pairs of really nice pyjamas because you will be wearing them until around 2pm every day;

Everytime you tell people that the baby is very good and hardly ever cries, he will promptly start screaming and sobbing inconsolably;

Don't prepare meals that can't be reheated successfully - the baby will ALWAYS wake up the minute your meal is ready; and

Everytime the phone rings, the baby will wake up and start crying thus causing your mother to believe that you spend all day pinching the baby to make him cry.

I am seriously loving ...

2007-07-17T12:51:00.000+10:00

I am seriously loving Doctor Who at the moment. Have you actually watched it? It's fantastic. Well, what are you hanging around here for? Go and watch it damn you.

Verbatim

2007-07-08T21:13:00.000+10:00

LG: Buster, roll over, you're snoring.

B: Yes.

pause

LG: Buster, come on, roll over, you're snoring.

B: Yes.

Buster receives an elbow in the ribs

LG: Buster, you are still snoring. Roll onto your stomach.

B: I am.

LG: You are not, you're lying on your side.

B: Yes.

LG: Buster, you haven't rolled over.

B: I have.

LG: No, you haven't. Roll over.

B: I did.

LG: No, you haven't.

Buster receives another sharp elbow to the ribs

Enlarge your possibilities

2007-07-04T12:51:00.001+10:00

Whenever we go into town, we drive past a big billboard for a private school somewhere in Brisbane. It has a big picture of a bunch of kids sitting and working studiously over their books while a teacher leans over them apparently helping them with their work. And it has the most stupid advertising catch phrase ever.

"Enlarge your possibilities"

This is clearly the most stupid thing I've ever read. You can't enlarge your possibilities. Possibilities are finite things, they can't just be bigger. You can increase the number of possibilities, but you can't enlarge them. Idiots.

I'm really going to be encourage to send my child to your school by your stupid sign that doesn't make any sense. It drives me crazy - every time we go past the sign - it brings on the tirade.