Le Weekend

It's le weekend. Oh weekends, how I adore thee. Let me count the ways:

• Cuddling on the couch with the smalls for extended love-ins
• Massage with Matt. I didn't fall asleep, but damn it, I tried - and the Doctor asking what time was my 'tummy rub'
• The Doctor telling me that he'd like to come next time I have a massage. I told him, maybe when you're a big boy I'll take you as a treat. He replied, 'Maybe when I'm 60?' Maybe a little earlier than that darling boy
• Sunshine
• Catching up with sisters
• No clocks, no timelines
• Free to read the papers (albeit in small grabs, just read this beautiful yet sad story of love)
• Tidying up here and there
• Clothes drying on the washing
• Calling my Mum and Dad
• Baking. Yes, there will be baking - jam drops to be precise
• Hanging with the fam at the park

Loving the weekend is absolutely compulsory. What's your great weekend love?

I Have A Big Problem

We're supposed to be going away tomorrow to visit my parents. I say supposed to be because I have a large problem. I've already started feeling tense, I've got a sore jaw from grinding my teeth and I feel a wee bit stressed. It's a five hour drive with two little ones, but that's not the reason I am feeling tense, I'm down with the drive. The reason I am feeling a little tense about this trip... It's garbage night tomorrow night, and I am going to miss my date with my favourite bin.

I've been thinking of saying to my mum and dad that we can't come. Something's come up. We'll drive up on Friday instead.

But really, I should just book a lobotomy. What's wrong with me? Why am I so enamoured with this bin? It's because of the presents it ALWAYS brings me.

This is how wrong I have become. I've been trying to think of someone I could ask to go through it for me tomorrow night. The only person I know around here is my mother-in-law and I don't think she'd be up for scrummaging through the wheelie bin. So no go there. The only other people around here that know me work in shops. I can't imagine saying, 'Hi can I get a kilo of mince and can you please stake out this bin for me?'. Not going to work.

If I asked my friends that don't live close by, they'd have to drive at least 40 minutes - and even then - they would probably book me in for some electric shock treatment for even considering asking them.

What can I do? Stake out that bin before we drive off? Pack the car, go park outside 'the house' until they put out the garbage and then drive? (Don't worry - I have thought of this, and buying doughnuts and playing out my favourite cop shows).

Last night, just before Matt and I sat down for dinner I told him I had to go out for ten minutes. I didn't tell him where I was going. Later he asked me how my walk had been. I said 'what walk?' (I did my walk earlier in the day so was puzzled why he was asking me this), he said the one you went on when you went out for ten minutes..

Oops. Yes well at that time, I wasn't walking. I was doing a quick drive-by of 'the house' to check out if it was council pick up day (it wasn't) in their street.

Now this is where I get really twisted. My sister Choc was chatting to a woman who lives in my suburb. Choc was telling this woman about my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (read - my garbage bin). Then Choc rang me and asked me what street 'the house' is in. I wouldn't tell her. Nope. Not telling. Still not telling. No. No. No. Not telling! I even made up a street name. I really am a junk junkie if I am going to lie about this.

What did I think was going to happen? This woman would find out where 'the house' is and next time I turned up for garbage day, there'd be somoene selling tickets to the garbage bin, first in first serve. That garbage bin is so good the line would be wrapped around the block, everyone vying for their chance to stick their head in it, get up close and personal with it, it might need bodyguards.

So I am missing my bin tomorrow. (Did I ever think I'd be missing a bin? No, never.) That's my big problem.

PS - Formatting isseeeews c/- blogger.

Posting

I keep going to write posts then just like lightning, I forget what I was going to post about. But today, I am posting about posting. Or rather, postage.

Is it just me, am I the only one that has such a relationship with the people at the post office that I get shown their photo albums of their eight children? Told all their childhood stories. Reminiscing in a post office, while I am trying to rush out the door to get another errand done. I can never just walk away though, I have to stand and admire those wedding photos. Ohh and aah.

Anyway - here's a heads up - postage is about to go up (along with everything else) on Monday. So my little dude and I are sending out as many cards as we can while it's still 50c. Otherwise that extra 5 cents might see us hit rock bottom. Just jokes. But we're going to go hammer and tongs and send out some mail in the hope that someone hits us back with a colourful correspondence.

I have loved stamps ever since I was old enough to help my Mum with her stamp collection. And I know that borders on sound incredibly nerdy, but stamps really mark a time in history, as well as your very own mini-art collection. While some stamp designs are pretty average (currently at Australia Post is a rugby league collection - boo hiss!), a lot feature beautiful graphic images.

Anyway - you heard it here first, postage is set to rise. Don't tell me I never tell you anything. It's all ground-breaking news here!

found here

My little guy big loves receiving letters in the mailbox so today, we write letters in the hope that we get some letter-lovin' back. Anyone want to play postman with us?

PS - days 19, 20: I went walk to the op-shop and on my way dropped into the newsagency to confirm my massive winnings that would buy me a house. I don't want for fancy holidays, diamond rings, caviar on toast for breakfast, that sort of thing. Just a wee little cottage. Do you think I won anything? Nope, not a dime.

Next day of walking we fast-footed our way down to the train station to meet Matt. It was a little chilly in the air. I hadn't worn appropriate clothing. Naughty me.

And today is day 21. Once the babies are awake, we're going to check out the neighbourhood. This is my last habit-forming day. And then no more walking. Ha! Fooled you again. Now I will be armed and dangerous - I'll be willing to go walking no matter the weather. It's become easier and easier to get out there and soak up the day. It probably has something to do with the sunshine too - it's so good feeling the sun warm up your back, checking out this and that. Try it. Join up here.

So Long Suckers!

You thought this was a post saying I was ending it here, didn't you? That I was going to say I was hanging up my mouse, logging off, never to be heard of again. You did, didn't you?

Well I fooled you all. Aren't I a trickster?

Today I found these great organic lollipops (hence the sucker title - get it, get it?)... And this post was going to be all about them. And then I thought, no I'll post about the tug o' war I have been stuck in this week, and I thought, I'll do some natty kind of segue into a grecian/rope style dress that I like.. But then I googled rope dress - and well, you'll never believe where I wound up - at a bondage website. I quickly skidaddled out of there, and decided that tug o' war was not what I was writing about today.

Instead, I am writing about 'memory making'. I've been thinking a lot about first memories, collecting memories, and memory making opportunities.

Some of my happiest memories from my childhood are playing at my grandparents property and building tee-pee style cubby houses out of large sticks and old branches, in my mind they were impressive. We laid rocks out as a sort of fireplace. We'd have two or three of these stick tee-pee constructions in this little valley near a tiny creek. My sisters I am sure could expand on this, but for me, it was magical. We'd check out what was in the creek, and just the building of the tee-pees was high on the fun stakes. Sometimes when we came back the next morning to check on them the horses had knocked them over. But rebuilding them was part of the charm too.

Another memory is driving around on my grandfather Gramps' knee through a paddock. I must have been about three or four, but I remember feeling such glee at being given the opportunity to 'drive'. I was the youngest, so all the older kids really did get to drive while Gramps sat next to them, but for me to just feel included was a beautiful thing, driving over bumps through the yellow grass - mmmm.

I have so many great memories of growing up. I've been thinking, what makes a memory? What makes your brain hang on to that memory, and every now and then why does your memory bring you back to those places?

This week we've been enjoying the leaf boat races down the creek. Our three and a bit year old has been taking us back to it time and time again (we've been every day since Sunday). I admit, I enjoy it too, and I can see the joy he gets from it too. It's so great to have those opportunities to tap into your inner child.

But what other memories is he going to take with him? Me on the computer trying to get work done double-smart so I can do something else? Me being cranky and tired telling him to stop asking me to play trains? I don't want to be remembered like that.

I'd like to think he'll remember our crazy music sessions, when we turn up the music loud, he drags his music box out and we grab any old instrument and make a great racket. Or baking biscuits and cakes together, while he constantly asks to eat a 'sample' (which turns into half the mix), and watches the Kitchenaid turn 'round and 'round.

Or our impromptu rumble sessions in the mornings on our unmade bed. Or even matching the socks for me while I fold the washing..

My mind keeps coming back to this quote that I found ages ago on someone's blog (I'd credit them if I could) - I can't remember it exactly but it went something like this: 'For those first early years, all your child wants/craves is your attention, but as they grow older the tables turn and we wind up desperate for their attention.' It's so true, and childhood is such a fleeting time, I'd like to make this time as memorable as possible.

So now I'm searching for memory making ideas. Anyone got any ideas to share? Tell me what a memory making moment is for you.

- As an aside - to follow up with Monday's post about buying a lottery ticket - well, it seems that the Universe didn't answer that request. Or at least, maybe me putting it out there only extends to second-hand and found objects, and not cold, hard cash. I didn't win a penny. Not a single one. Therends my idea that my luck was never-ending. Hmph! So our search for a non-mouldy rental house continues. Bah humbug.

PS - My formatting has gone again. Thanks Blogger.

Birthdayacapalooca

Greetings! Salutations to the sun! Hola. Or just hi - it's me, the super dooper spoilt one. Just back from my birthday festivities. All birthday-ed out. Suffering from birthday fatigue. It's the sweetest sort of tiredness isn't it?

Early morning phone calls from Perth and Scone. In bed with my two babes and my big man, opening a pile of presents. Well, my little guy was doing most of the opening, I was really more like an innocent bystander while he got great joy from tearing off the paper. A fresh cup of tea in my new tea cup.. Oh sweet love!

We had a full day of fun and shenanigans yesterday. Breakfast at Fratelli Paradiso. Mmm. With my sister (who, oh my goodness, if you're like me you'll fall off your chair, has reaquainted herself with her blog after a two month extended hiatus) and one of my good friends. Breakfast risolata... Almond croissant. Eggs. Upside down muffins. And a missing baby-cino (oh and then there's what everyone else ordered... Kidding!)

Then off to the zoo. Mayhem. Pure mayhem. Never go to Taronga Zoo in the middle of a perfect sunny winter Sunday. Unless you want to park your car forever away and you want to act as a flaneur, rather than animal watching. I hardly saw any animals. Our pram almost got flattened by the train (with my babe in it). But my little man got to feed turkeys, a pig, chickens and see newborn piglets - oh and pat a big fat blue-tongue lizard.

But the new Great Southern Oceans exhibit has just opened - which is really amazing. Well it will be once all the animals are in (hey, wow, some seaweed - wild!).

And there was a pretty new baby gorilla - super cute.

All in all, a beautiful day.

And the presents. Oh the presents. A beautiful necklace from my man-child. A fantastic and much-wanted new bag from my sister ChoccyBangles - amongst other beautiful things. A gorgeous almost-finished quilt from my sister Curious Bunny - amongst other beautiful things. A gift voucher to my favourite day spa, measuring cups and gorgeous earrings. Books. Love. Handmade cards. New PJs. Oh gosh, I am so spoilt it's embarrassing.

Indeed, I am a fortunate soul.