Tiny In The Rain

Tiny's stripey legs under this umbrella. Too darn cute. Such a great little brolly for her, she's almost encased - but can still see where she's heading.

This week, I'm grateful for my dryer. Yes. I don't usually praise electrical appliances, but this week, the dryer has done me proud.

But Baby It's Cold Outside

For once, this song is strangely appropriate to Sydney.

Today I went to work in jeans, a wool knit, knee length boots and a scarf, and didn't take a stitch off. The girls were laughing at me, in the middle of 'Summer' (and I use that term veeeheeery loosely), rugged up for Winter.

Weather - let's get it together!

Which is one reason we dressed the house early for Christmas.

And while I'm on the topic of it being ridiculously cold and wet in Sydney, when it should be blaringly, glaringly hot, Tiny has been having tantrums because she wants to see the snow. Not just one isolated tantrum either, it's been a series of tantrums on seperate days. The first day she put her gumboots on and we all got into the car and drove to the supermarket. Then she asked where we were going when we got back into the car. "Home." "No we're not! We're going to the snow!"

Way to let a toddler down. I had to educate her on the fact that snow was unlikely - however, who knows with this weather, but heck, I'll keep her posted.

Following days Tiny has requested to go to the snow. And has stood outside with gumboots on waiting to see the snow. Alas it's just rain and jacaranda flowers. Prince sang 'Purple Rain', perhaps he could record 'Purple Snow'? Anything's possible with this weather. Right?

image is from the ever awesome Kiddley - I think Tiny, the Doctor and I might make our own little Christmassy snowglobes!

You Want Me To Vote? Gimme A Coat.

I've made an executive decision today. Friends, you will like it. Trust me (because this is standard dialogue for a politician). I will kiss babies. Lots of babies. I will even give them raspberries on their milk-filled little tummies. And *smile* for the camera.

I've decided to go into politics. I'm going to run for election.

My policies I hear you ask?

Steadfast. Rock-solid. Watertight.

I have one most excellent and truly ace policy.

All mums should be issued with a trench coat, or at the very least a cool raincoat.

It's pouring here AGAIN - and I hate running about with two smalls when it's raining. I have to strap two littlies into the car and stand out in the rain while doing so.

When I gave birth, instead of a Bounty Bag I should have been handed a Burberry trench. I'd look stylish and stay dry. I'd settle for Aquascutum too. Or Stella McCartney.

We'll be like the Australian Olympic team. You get to choose a standard issue item that's classically styled - except we'll be cool, we won't be wearing Green & Gold, and we won't be throwing big sticks or jumping over high sticks. Or alternatively we could make our own Mama Olympics - the 100m dash in stilettos (or ugg boots). I am open to suggestions.

In fact, before writhing around with contractions, you should be given a small card - you nominate your trench.

You like my policy? Easy. You vote me in. PottyMouthMama for PM.

Are you going to vote for the coat?

(Anyone who does not vote for the coat will be issued with one of these. Tough choices ladiez!)

The Rain Boats

With the rain has come water. Lots of it. Surprising, isn't it?

We snuck out of the house this afternoon after being struck down with an acute case of cabin fever-itis. The Doctor scootered. Matt and I walked. Tiny ate popcorn in her pram. It continued to sprinkle on our heads. In fact, it sprinkled all over us. It was steamy, but the sprinkling rain relieved that for a short time. We walked down to the park where the Doctor did a few circuits on his scooter.

Then we began our walk home, via a small creek not far from home, which, due to the water, which was due to the rain, was flowing. Perfect conditions for leaf boat racing.

The Doctor and I indulged ourselves. Matt got a bit sniffy that I chose a dodgy leaf for him (which wound up winning), and the Doctor and I continued with our leaf racing. There's a certain season for leaf racing. We've collected some more vessels for more leaf races later in the week. It's pretty darn fun reconnecting with your childhood via your own child.

Blogtoberfest Day 8: Feeling Beachy Keen

winds so big the garbage bin lid was blown open. you see incredible things on pmm.

An outing was scheduled for this morning to go forth and visit the beach. I was looking forward to some pseudo-Wintery beach action. Collecting shells, building sandcastles, frolicking on the sand a la Bette Midler. This was the dream people. So when we got there after a 40 minute drive to discover this, let me tell you, this Mama felt a little angsty.

Two fire trucks with all the fireys downing hot cups of coffee, one man filming the over-sized seas, a lone rescue board stuck in the sand, the ocean pool full to overflowing, and 10 foot waves that Bodhi would have thought gnarly. And there were the two smalls and I, blowing in the wind.

Beach closed. Beach more than closed. Beach almost swept away with a higher than high tide. Our dreams dashed by an ominous grey sky. We stayed for 20 minutes. Enough for the Doctor to walk on the sand. Enough for the fireys to drive past, toot at us and wave, enough for the surfy dude who was filming to say hi, enough for Tiny to get all crazy and excitabugs with the wind in her fairy floss hair.

Yep. Call us crazy.

One Might Think That One Might Give It A Rest

But one doesn't, does one?

Not even in the teeming rain, when I was thinking - sheesh, this might turn into hail - even when my windscreen wipers were going into overtime did I think, nah - I won't pull over. No siree.

Sensei says junking requires pure dedication. Sensei says even if you get rained on, even if the neighbours are staring, you still go junking if you want to hit the goods. Sensei says sometimes gloves are required.

But not today.

Coming home from one of life's most mundane shopping trips (bras, why can I never find a pretty/nursing bra in my size?) I took a couple of detours. I always go the back streets, and this is where I yield most goodies.

So today's prize may not look like much to you. But it is. Those coathangers are gold. I am mad for a vintage coathanger. One day I'll show you my most prized one. That box is going to house some of my collections. And that hat. That hat was worn by a high court judge (not that you care, but it's part of my little community), onceuponatimethankyouverymuch. Everything that has a story is worth getting out of the car in the rain and getting soaked for. Even when you're in a white top and you could consider getting down to your local pub for the wet t-shirt competition afterwards. Even then.

Blueberries & Blackbirds

My baby loves to eat blueberries. I'm not just talking a couple here and there. I give her a few, she gobbles them up. Then sits there pointing at the other blueberries that are just out of her reach, and if I don't see her pointing, she screeches at me. She's on a punnet a day habit.

Like one of my friends said yesterday, she's going to live 'til she's 900 on all those anti-oxidants. Damn fools, the girl sure does love blueberries.

We've not been doing much. It's so hot. Our air-con has gone - poof!- it's not working, so we're best friends with the fans, and sitting very, very still. I've even taking to going to large shopping centres purely to enjoy their air-conditioning.

Yesterday we went for a post-storm swim. The rain was even cold. Strangely, there was steam coming off the footpath following the short stretch of rain. It's too damn hot.

Here are a list of other things it's too damn hot for:

- baking - no amount of oven time is currently acceptable

- scarves - no, no, no - strictly no scarves

- jeans - eek - jeans are not sweltering weather-wear
- hot food - we're into anything served cold

- too much physical activity - we're strictly slothing it at the mo'

As for The Doctor, I find him sneaking out of his bedroom after bedtime. I find him looking out our kitchen door into the trees. He turns to me and says, "Mum, look at that beautiful bird." I look up and see a big, black crow, resplendent in his feathers. It's Summer here and the city is hot.

But Baby It's Cold Outside (Or - My House Is Too Thrify-licious For You Babe)

pretty pillowcase
a dress for me to stitch, though I'm thinking this pattern may be too small for me because it's old skool

a crazy-cool kiddie pillowcase

a cute bell-wreath & outline golden book - just look at Santa's beautiful blue eyes and tell me you don't love him

another golden book and this little musical/doggy clapper thingy

some Royal Albert saucers and cake plates that really are quite darling

It's so cold and rainy here at the moment. We were flirting with Summer, and then kazaam, we're whipped back into our woollies. I don't mind the rain. I don't mind the cold. But when combined, they're not exactly conducive to sifting through other people's bins.

I drove past the house and the bin this week. On a number of occasions. I wonder if they've taken down my number plates and reported me yet. I completely missed the second skip. When I went back - gone-skis. Into thin air. Which is probably a good thing because I was coming home with a few too many things. Matt calls it my junk. I call it my treasures. Tomate-o. Tom-aaaahto. Potate-o. Potaaaaaahto.

There was a hive of activity at the house. Landscapers. A truck. People people everywhere. Is this the beginning of the end?

So tonight, I think I'm going to bow out. For a number of reasons.

• The guy staring at me in the street last week really ruffled my feathers.
• It's cold. It's raining. And I want a night off.
• I don't think I have much adrenaline left.
• I don't have acres of house to store this stuff.
• I got a quick and fruitful spot of thrifting going on this morning. I made a quick and quiet kill.

Are you going to punish me for not going out in the rain? Even if you don't, you just never know, after I watch this, you might find me out there. Braving the elements.

A Busy Beaver

Boy oh boy, am I kicking goals today or what?!

I've zoomed through my son's room, it's so clean you could eat off the floor. Not that you'd want to (particularly as you wouldn't want to get those bits of carpet stuck in your teeth, would you?), sheets changed, toys put away, oh man, I just love kicking goals. Score!

I've done the washing. Though it's raining here so everything is bound for the dryer. Boo hiss....!

I'm just about to start a big cook-up to freeze some purees for my wee little one. Wahhhheeee!

I did some stitching last night (man I am officially the slowest stitcher in the world, I got four piddly puffs done - better than none though, huh?). Yahooo!

Shame on me - because it's raining, and because I am completely hooked - I just bought a piece of this fabric - but really you should say, hey good work because I am HOPELESS at buying yellow fabrics.. How cute! Click here and you can get addicted too and I won't be so guilty. - Boo hiss? But big YAY!

I've taken some photos of my next project, but due to the grey-ness of today, I have been shooting in my *ahem* studio (also known as under the heat lamp in our bathroom). Please don't expect to see my photos ever hanging in the MCA.

I've done some work.

I've paid some bills. Boo hiss!

Yesterday I went for my walk (played relays with Matt so I could go) - yay bravo! Today due to the weather, I will be going in wet weather gear and will look even daggier, if that's even possible?!

And now. Well my camera has given up the goat (or is it ghost?). So pictures to be added later skaters.

PS - My two past titles have no link. Don't get any ideas alrighty?

Things To Do On Quiet Grey Days with Busy Boys

Hi. It's me, here at pottymouthmama headquarters. Eating Clinkers (and trying to find a pink one) while tapping away at the keyboard. Dr Phil is on in the background (hey desperate times call for desperate measures). We're stuck at home today awaiting a delivery. We've been given the hours 9am-5pm. What happened to the 9-12noon slot - I feel like we're doing a whole work day just waiting. So I'm playing CEO and very aptly, doing no housework. Noah's 2-i-c and has gone for a nap. It's hard times here at pmm.

It's a bit bleak outside. We (read: me) don't feel much like braving the elements and being outside.

So here is a list of grey day activities the little guy and I are getting into in our play 'headquarters' - our bed:

1) Snap! with these cute Usborne truck cards N got for his third birthday from his aunty

2) Threading - or as N calls it 'sewing'

3) Drawing - we've got Silky Crayons which are not only delicious to draw with (like an oil pastel), but they can be used like a watercolour to give a nice wash of colour

4) Tower building - good for hand eye coordination, as well as imaginative play

5) Online shopping - here. I have to get birthday presents bought somehow people!

Well number five doesn't really involve my small child, but a girl's got to do something while she's waiting for the littlies to arise!

6) Gardening - we went to the nursery yesterday and stocked up on herbs. All the while, the little guy saying: 'three more mummy, three more' which resulted in me buying more than I really wanted, but I've been dreaming of a functioning herb garden for more than a few months, so it's time to get down and dirty (gardening I mean folks, it's all good clean fun here)

7) and maybe at the end of the day, just before bath time, we might do some finger painting

And that my dear friends is how you fill up a bleak day with a busy boy. Super fun and good times! Anyway, I have a very important 1pm with Oprah, pottymouthmama is a busy place you know!

Identi-Kit

Yesterday Noah and I had one of those silly days. Silly because it was raining and we were stuck inside. While Scouty was sleeping, we got up to some silly shenanigans.

Noah tried on a wig that M had from a dress-up party. Actually, truth be known, I bribed Noah to try this wig on. I wanted to see just how ridiculous he would look with hair that's bigger than him.

It was worth a bit of a giggle.

Later in the day the postman came and delivered some mail from my mum and dad for Noah. Noah guessed that it might contain books - but I knew it might contain something else..

Last week Noah came into the bathroom, looked at his reflection with great concern and noted he had no eye-brows.. M carried on this joke and told him that Biddy (my Dad) had them. Anyone that knows my Dad knows that he too doesn't have any eyebrows. Must be a genetic thing. So Noah decided to ring Biddy to find out if he did have his eyebrows. M and I were cracking up at the following conversation where Noah asked for his eyebrows back.

Carrying on from this, Noah tore into his parcel yesterday to find some adhesive eyebrows and also - as a bonus, a moustache. I had to bribe him to put these on too. A lot of bribery going on around here!

After looking at these photos, I realised it reminded me of an art show that I'd recently read about in Frankie. An artist had put together a selection of composite photos, or identi-kit style head shots alongside the actual photographs of the people. It was an interesting art project. Particularly when paired with a short bio on the person.

Rainy Days and Mondays

I'm usually a big fan of the rain. A big fan. There's not much I like more than snuggling under the doona on a grey day and sleeping in. Now it's a bit of a luxury, but I still love crawling into bed to the gentle pitter patter on the roof.

But enough of the rain. Where's summer? Where the heck is it?

For one thing, I had visions of a summer full of early runs to the beach, madly constructed sand castles, twilight bbqs, ice creams melting down arms, mangoes - oh sweet mangoes dribbling down faces. Cicadas burring in the background, the constant feel of holidays that summer brings with it.

I heard from a friend that the next two months are going to be raining. With that, on top of the rain and grey days (not to mention cold - hello, tracky daks anyone???), I am sick of the rain. Send it to the drought stricken areas, fine. An occasional rainy day is welcome - but damn fool, this is the straw that broke the camel's back.

And all to think, I had a great summer wardrobe for my newborn, and now hardly any of it's been worn since it's been too cold. HMPH!