Tiny World Of Pain

Tiny just poured a whole glass of water on our bed.

Tiny just used my special face cream (that was almost brand new) on her feet.

Tiny just let the rabbit out and then sprinkled hay everywhere including all over her freshly moisturised hands.

As her piece de resistance, she poured popcorn all over the Doctor's bed.

All I can say is, thank goodness I don't use La Prairie.

Slaying Dragons & Drinking Flagons

This has been a wildly emotional rollercoaster ride of a week. I am ready to get off.

I feel as though slaying dragons would be preferential to living through this week, it's been that rough around the edges.

I'm not drinking flagons, though I do feel as though I could be sitting under a bridge near you, with my brown boxes in tow. We have one sleeping bag and one swag, so the kids are right.

Our house is semi packed up. Tiny is totally out of sorts and is requiring a whole lotta cuddles. Which is fine with me because I need them too.

I know this is a blessing in disguise, but it's getting through this time before we move, with half our lives in boxes, this stagnant living, well it stinks.

image is of St George.

Randomly Random

A long time ago, in a galaxy, far far from here, where Princesses hung their very long hair out windows, alabaster skinned beauties ate nasty apples, and frogs scored kisses from hopeful ladies with crowns, there lived an e-zine called Random Poetics: ChalkTalk.

It feels like forever ago, and it is pretty much forever ago in this land of the zing-a-zing bada-bing electronic age. But for us mere mortals, it was a sweet 6 or 7 years ago since I birthed this concept.

Random Poetics was my baby that I birthed long before I birthed real babies. I only tended to it once a week, but it grew and it grew and it went global.

Then I birthed real babies and Random Poetics got put in the corner for laterz, and well, it's been a long time, but I'm feeling it. It needs to come back.

Random Poetics was my first foray into the electronic word. The power of the electronic world.

I loved writing poetry. But people don't buy poetry. (Think about it, when was the last time you bought a poetry tome? I challenge you!) So if the people weren't going to come to the poetry, Random Poetics was to bring poetry to the people. You dig?

And this ain't no la-di-da standardised version of poetry. I mix it up. I'm crazy. It's a 5 minute hit of poetry every week. Can you dig it?

So friends, here's a personal invitation. If you'd like your very own personal subscription to Random Poetics: ChalkTalk, hit me up here. It's free. It's wordy. But I promise there's a heck of a lot of white space too. And if you don't like it, I'll give you a refund. Howzat?

If you'd like Random Poetics: ChalkTalk delivered straight into your e-mailbox. Email me before next Friday.

Image is of Frank O'Hara. One of my poetic heroes.

Are You Feeling Neglected?

One of my favourite Twitterati linked me this. Bon appetit! Tiny loves this song. So you should too.

MumSpace

If you've been wondering where I am, because let's face it, you're sitting there at your computer screen waiting for me to ping into your Google Reader, yes? YES!? Well I have a new gig with Medina's MumSpace. Come over and talk with me! It's fast paced, cracking along, and it's not your regular space for Mums. You are what will make it.

Today I'm talking about Mother's Day. And Mother's Day wish lists. Even fantasy lists. What's on your list? Won't you click over and chat with me? We can talk about whatever you want. Promise. On my fantasy Mother's Day list is this ace Victoria Mason necklace. I always seem to be hanging washing out. Or taking it off. Or even washing it. Because I am WILD! And I have some special surprises up my sleeve.

Come join me now, no strings attached (sounds saucy, non?).

What's For Dinner? Tourettes Anyone?

This week I have developed a hard core case of Tourette's Syndrome. Seriously. I am PottyMouthMama. Hear me roar. Matt has been on the receiving end of much of my foray into Tourette's territory.

You may well be wondering the reason.

Well allow me to show you through my home. Oh wait. You can't get in the front door? What's that? Big brown removalist boxes everywhere? Junk piles they spilleth over?

Ahem. Excuse me friends, but while some people have analogies for tidying up their blog, I really am in the midst of packing up our house. And here's the funny part. We haven't actually got anywhere to go.

I took the advice of my Mum and sister to pack everything away instead of having to tussle with weekly tidy ups. The house is on the market and my FIL has requested our house to look like it does in the photo.. What has been neatly edited out of the photo is my leaning tower of ironing, the kids stuff, and well, dust bunnies, and everything else in between.

It's not easy packing up a house with two small kidlets running amok. I have major Mummy Guilt for not hanging ten with them more. Tiny has been going bananas, but there's nothing to be done, except pack, play intermittently, and pack some more.

For now I am self-medicating. High doses of choglud. Some wine. And a hefty dose of sleep is on the cards. If Tiny plays nicely.

This week I am hoping, praying, wishing we find a humble abode to call our own.

What are you hoping for this week?

PS. After having Poladroid on my desktop, I've finally figured out how to work it. Et voila.

The Fantasy You

I've got a terrible track record. I always say yes to people when I'd really like to say no.

I do things I don't really want to do while other people get to do the good stuff.

I say yes to having dinner with people - on their side of the bridge - when we both know it's their turn to come my side.

And if someone has an opinion different to mine, I usually clam up until the conversation has floated safely past me. Or if we continue talking, I get all flustered - including nervous rash - and mess up what I want to say.

The fantasy me:

- says no when she wants to

- doesn't do the crap while everyone else has fun

- makes people cross the bridge (because I'm worth it!)

- speaks up for her opinions - and doesn't get flustered

What's the fantasy you going to do? Are we going to do it girls? YES! We're going to kick some butt.

image via end of text

ANZAC Day

This morning we woke to Tiny tantying in bed. So the Doctor and I hot-footed it out of the house as quickly as we could, plucking some rosemary on the way, and headed down to our local ANZAC Day service.

The above photos of are of my grandfather, Gramps.

I don't remember Gramps talking an awful lot about war. He fought in Papua New Guinea. I do remember seeing that thick almost scratchy wool uniform though.

The top photograph is Gramps with my grandmother. A couple ever-devoted to one another, and I must say, theirs is a pure and undying love.

Gramps once stitched up a large cut (on his hand Mum?) with fishing wire.

Gramps had such a sweet tooth. He always brought us jelly rats when they came to visit, and their car always had sweeties strewn through it!

He made a fantastic baked cheesecake.

He would always pull his socks up and wear sock garters, much to my mortification as a teenager.

When we were little he'd let us drive the car through the paddock. I was the smallest, so I sat on his knee and steered while he worked the pedals.

Gramps loved Days of Our Lives. Turned up really rather loud.

He would always do all of the washing up.

Lest we forget.

Everybody Just Bounce

Thanks for all your kind words yesterday. I bounced my woes away with a glass or two of vino. And now have a headache.

Here's everybody's favourite songstress ripe for the weekend. BOUNCE BOUNCE!

Garbage I Have Loved

I haven't written for a long time about garbage I have loved. And found on the roadside. I am like a foster mother for dead furniture. Matt's told me no more, but quite frankly, when he told me that my ears weren't working.

Here's a sneaky peek at one of two repro Bentwood chairs I found, amidst a goldmine of garbage.

I'm in the middle of giving them a makeover. Oh how I love this pink paint. Subtle. And yet, not so. Because it very softly whispers - I am pink! I AM PINK!

I'll show you more over the weekend.

If you have the desire, you can cast back in time to when I compulsively looted some roadside trash and scored some ace finds. I still think about those times. Those were the days my friends, we thought they'd never end.

Meltdown? Help!

Do you ever feel like you're heading straight for a meltdown? Right now I do.

- New job
- My computer died (so I am stealing time on my husband's - high five Matt) (Spare a thought for Pip, she has no space bar)
- Madly house hunting (rent is RIDICULOUS!)
- Navigating in-laws
- Trying to keep the house clean for inspections
- Regular parenting
- Regular wife-ing
- Being overtired due to an over-exuberant night owl

What do you do when it all feels overwhelming? I've been hanging the clothes out. With intermittent tears being blinked back.

I do have one thing going for me. I am not green. And I don't often wear a pointy hat.

Neeeeeeeeeeeoooooooooooow.

I had my first day back in the office today, and I must tell you, I liked it. A whole lot. I didn't want to leave. Of course I wanted to come home to my smalls, but my time there seemed to go so fast, I am looking forward to next week back in the office.

One thing that came out of my day in the office was that I am 'a very good driver'. High five myself in the mirror!

This came about because I managed to manouevre our car into a particularly tight spot in the heart of tight spots, Surry Hills.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, if they make an Australian version of Top Gear, I WANT IN! I'd like to drive a Lotus and say it corners like it's on rails. I love those driving adventures they embark on.

And here's the clincher:

I always drive around on empty for as long as I can. I love the adrenaline this creates in my mundane life. I mean people, how crazy can you get, I drive my car around when the empty light is on for as long as I can! I drive it. For as long as I can. I'll say it again slowly. I drive. My car. Around. When the empty light. Is on. For as long. As I can.

High five myself in the mirror!

If that's not a clincher I don't know what is. I could be the new Stig.

You hear that TV producers? I am ready and waiting.

image via automopedia

I Think I Kinda Like It.

Heidi's got a new 'do. Do you like it?

I think I do.

I think she looks like she's stepped straight from the 70s which I always find strangely appealing (and better than looking like she is 70 with a purple rinse, right?! Although those grandmas really do rock the violet hue).

What do you think?

image from smh

Tiny Bursts:: The Urge to Purge

We've been enjoying meandering around the neighbourhood lately. The weather is so blissful, and to be completely one hundred per cent honest, it seems to be throw out time around our 'hood. Everyone seems to be decluttering madly.

Tiny goes gangbusters on her motorbike.

Sal from Georgie Love recommended 'Raising Your Spirited Child' so I hot footed it to the library to borrow it. Along with a mountain of other parenting books. Now I just have to find some spare moments to glean the brilliance from within!

If you promise to be good I'll show you some of my recent roadside finds later this week.

What's Your Avatar?

It's a tough day when you:

a) have watched Avatar seven times, back to back, with no breaks

b) realise you are probably the world's biggest, and yet, smallest James Cameron fan

c) decide to dedicate your life to being blue

Just to clarify, no one in our house has seen Avatar, let alone Tiny.

Hats Off

Since I had a near riot on my hands yesterday with all two commenters wanting to see the hat block, here it is. Take down your placards girls, I'll put the riot squad back to bed, here it is.

It needs some moisturising. Maybe I'll wax it.

Speaking of waxing heads, George is back from Masterchef. Won't you join me on Twitter for live tweeting?

That was an awesome segue, was it not?

Here's said hat block sporting a panama. That is too small for my head. But it's a beauteous thing.

Cheap. And Very Cheerful.

I have restarted frequenting the local garage sales, and I must say, I've rebooted with great results.

This weekend I found a hat block. Awesome. Wunderbar. Ace to the power of spades. It was only $35. Thirty five clams. That is all! Until I went to pay for it and the woman said, 'Do you realise this is $85?' Shocked and in fear of rigor mortis setting in, I replied, 'Er no, I thought it was $35, I misread the label.' The lady then kindly said she would go and ask her mother how much she was willing to reduce it.

I have a growing and yet completely unvaluable vintage hat collection. I love hats. I love hats in the Spring time. I love hats in the Fall. I love hats in the Winter when it drizzles. I love hats in the summer fo' shizzle.

The lady came back seeming despondent and said, 'Oh she will only take it down to $50'. Of course I took it. I would have been a fool not to. Ordinarily there's no way I could buy one of these babies.

Hat blocks are GO! Enough about the hat block - I'm not here to bang on about the darn hat block.

I also snaffled a range of children's books for the grand tootin' sum of $3.00. And I saw a cork pinboard. Which I didn't get..

And yet, later in the day, after my brain had birthed an idea, I went back and found that pinboard and snaffled it for the Doctor's room (for about $1).

I gave it three coats of 'Passionate Blue' (do you ever have passionate blues?) and have resurrected it to be a new addition for the Doctor's special things. For approximately $10 for a customised pinboard, we likey.

Babysitter BooHoo

I've written previously about my lack of luck when it comes to babysitters.

After that spasmodic episode, I thought my babysitter shortage had ended. Oh how wrong I was. Woefully, spasmodically wrong.

I am working in an office one day a week for a few months on a new campaign. I'm excited. It's the perfect way to ease my way back in, and it's an awesome company.

I had a babysitter lined up this week. I sent her a text last night to clarify what time I would need her to start, and what time I would be home. It was then that she told me she had to leave at 12:30pm.

Awesome. Tiny can just hang out in the house by herself for the rest of the day. Fantastic. There's nothing like Tiny babysitting herself. It's worked well previously.

Now it's back to the drawing board of babysitters. Bah humbug.

Btw - did you ever read The Babysitter's Club? Gulp.. I did.

image via the Other Erin.

Sweet Design

I just found this awesome to the power of fully sick calendar design over at one of my favouritest blogs Ladies & Gentlemen.

An ink calendar designed by Oscar Diaz. How pretty is that?

Secret Crush

If Matt and I didn't ever meet I would like to think I would have met Ross Noble. Fallen madly in love, laughed so hard champagne came out my nose and my stomach muscles would hurt and laughter would be a work out in itself.

My love for Ross runneth over so much so that Matt hired Nobleism from me. We've been guffawing all weekend.

Noble is a nice surname,yes?

Who is your celebrity crush? Come on, tell me.

top image via timeout

bottom image via abc

Feeling Beachy Keen?

In response to Jess' post, this is another ace track. Love it or leave it? Tell me.

Heart Palpitations

You know it's time to have another baby when you discover this.

And these.

And this..

Oh and this.

via one of my all time favourite blogs - Fine Little Day

Find more here. In fact, buy the whole store out before I get a chance to even so much as breathe in another newborn. You'd be doing me a favour, ok?

Seriously Hooked

I have a really big blog love for Made by Joel. If you've not checked it out before, do, because he is awesome.

He makes the most insanely cool things with and for his kids. And who wouldn't want a massive cuddle like that?! I do - pick me! Pick me!

Those walnut shell boats are on my to-do list with the Doctor. I am always tossing bath toys because of the mould factor. These ones are disposable and compostable. Yeehar!

Which brings me to this super duper cool toy bench. And I know someone who has a new work bench that loves playing with wood.

Dear Dad? I hope you are well as it leaves me the same. Are you reading this? Just putting my order in, ok.

The UnReview:: The Women

Every now and then you are lucky enough to be the recipient of my un-reviews. Or my anti-reviews.

Thank your lucky stars because I am saving you a lot of:

a) time

b) money

c) viewing pleasure

d) reputation from being seen to be hiring these ridiculously poor films and having that on your record

So today, I un-bring you The Women. Possibly one of the worst films I have ever had to endure. I say had to because, well I couldn't just abandon it, I always have hope that a film will redeem itself, even if by the one hundred and nineteenth minute it hasn't done so, there's still a few minutes left.

The most tantalising part of this film was watching Meg Ryan's lips. And realising Meg and Nicole Kidman share the same duck bill mouth. It was a revelation.

I won't go anymore into this film because for the record, I'd like to be re-imbursed the almost two hours it took from my life.

Apparently this is a remake and the 1939 version is awesome. This one, notsomuch. Eva Mendes was badly cast - not to mention Candice Bergen as Meg Ryan's mum?! Wrong. What was Candice thinking?? What was I thinking?

I give it half a star if I could even be bothered.

Memory Lunch

This lunch is laden with memories. Like the corners of my mind. Misty water-coloured memories.

When I was small we'd drive down to Sydney in the holidays. It was a long drive full of anticipation and wonder at what lay ahead.

We'd go shopping in the city. In the city people! And every time, every single time, we'd have lunch at a little cafe that adjoined Centrepoint Tower and David Jones. And every single time I would enjoy the toasted chicken and cheese sandwiches. With salt and pepper.

That cafe is no longer there, which is a real shame because they made awesome chicken and cheese sandwiches. And if my memory serves me correctly, they had bacon sarnies too, and they were pretty rad too.

From me to you, I highly recommend them. On wholemeal. And of course a smidgen of butter.

While We're All Here

While we're all gathered 'round ye olde computere screene enjoy this relic. I found myself humming this song the other day. How's that for a pang of nostalgia?

Wish me luck, the smalls have been bickering hardcore since 7am. It's continued since then with the Doctor telling both Tiny and I that we are too rude. Whatevs! I need to time-out myself.

Twiddlebug Love

Twiddlebugs have always been my favourites on Sesame Street. They were always so silly. And funny. I really loved that they lived in an old milk carton. Plus they lived on a window sill. Remember them old style? Bring the beat back!

Watercolour Silhouettes

I love these Tania Mason watercolours. They remind me of Rob Ryan's epic papercuts, or a sweet puppet show in silhouette. Imagine the top one hanging in a sweet babe's bedroom, ripe for dreaming.

I Forgot Our Bookcase

Matt and I are enduring some sort of book apartheid. My books are not allowed near his. It's his rule. Not mine. Same with my CDs and his. They are not mixed. He keeps them separately. I have questioned him numerous times about this to no avail.

So for now, books and CDs are segregated. There will be no co-habiting for these forms of entertainment.

It's for this reason that I forget I have books. And it's for this reason you would have seen me on the ground today clambering along the length of the floor looking at my books which are in piles because they don't rate as high as Matt's art books. Mine are wobbly towers, which, after I withdrew a couple of books toppled over and I still haven't mustered the patience to re-build them. Perhaps that's an activity for the Doctor and Tiny tomorrow?!

So in my hot little hands for a re-read are:

- Raising Boys

- Raising A Happy Child

I have enjoyed the recommendations that everyone shared with me. I am going to take a look at them and make some book-lovin' purchases. Will keep you posted!

image from lochaven's flickr stream

Revisiting Books

I used to madly consume parenting books, and got a lot from them, learnt lots of strategies and general parenting tips too.

I guess once we had child number two time became a little more scarce, I started trying to fit work in between parenting two smalls, and trying to keep our life a little more organised, I ditched reading, and found stitching more therapeutic, and brainless TV for when I was really dog tired.

At the moment I need all the tips I can get, so I am revisiting some old parenting books from our shelves. Things might go a bit topsy-turvy as we navigate our way through the next chapter of our life. We need to move house, it's time and we really need to spread our wings as our own little family unit. Moving will mean I have to engage in more work which has its highs and lows.

But there's one thing for certain. We need to get smarter. We need more strategies on positive parenting. We need to clue ourselves up for the next stages before they arrive. Pre-empting will be my homeboy.

What have been the best parenting books you've read or come across. Talk to me.

I've been re-reading this one (which I think is ok to refresh, but sometimes not really that helpful, it's written from the perspective of a child and I sometimes think it's a bit patronising to the child); plus Toddler Taming.

On The Tracks

On Saturday we journeyed to the Zig-Zag Railway. Matt and I have never visited the Blue Mountains together before, and given I am completely useless at directions, he was navigating, I took the helm. We drove like Thelma and Louise. Except we were husband & wife. With two smalls in the back. And Brad Pitt was unavailable. And we don't have a convertible. And I wasn't wearing a scarf in my hair. And we had no intention of driving over a cliff. A few crucial factors missing.

We got to our destination in time to board Thomas & Friends.

If you know us, the Doctor has been totally and utterly absorbed in TTTE for yonks. Seriously. I refuse to read the books because they're always so grumpy and cranky. I don't mind the train play, but the stories, well Rev. W. Awdry has a lot to answer for.

The Zig-Zag Railway was fantastic, and both the smalls were captivated with Tiny chanting 'engine, engine!'.

But this was like the perfect almost-ending to the Doctor's love for Thomas and his friends. He's moving on to other loves. Like dinosaurs and dragons. He still likes trains, but he often tells me he's more interested in the dinos and the dragons. I've long wished for him to move on from trains, we've spent hours together building tracks together, pushing engines around. And now it almost feels sad. I'm a sap. I know.

Tess of the d'Urbervilling

Everyone's a d'Urberville in our family. There's Tiny d'Urberville. Dr d'Urberville. Matt d'Urberville. PottyMouth d'Urberville.

I have officially gone d'Urberville mad.

Did you watch it last night on ABC1? Clearly I did. And got swept up in it. Now I can't wait for next Sunday night.

That Gemma Arterton is a real beauty. I love looking at her beautiful face. She's - wow-bam-boom! Incredible.

Leaning Tower of Colander

Yesterday in a bid to keep the Doctor busy while I clocked up some 'me minutes' we set up an activity he was gangbusters for.

He gathered the goodies, I gave him a few more, and away he went, building a water fountain.

This was an excellent practice in concetration, balance and problem solving. Many times the fountain tumbled. And many times he was disgruntled. He wanted me to build it. But I wouldn't. I helped a few times. I gave him some pointers, but I left him to work on it - and he was triumphant. Until we introduced the hose which sent the fountain toppling. But that was ok because it was fun to the max.

We used cups, plates, colanders, plastic colanders (from ricotta), anything will do really as long as water can overflow, flow through etc.

This is an idea we gleaned from Jo England's Happy Times Together. Lots of great ideas to do with older kids in here.