Non Fawlty Feb Stuff

Um, not so much to report.

Have survived the first two weeks of school OK. Kids (and us) are coping well with the busy schedule.

Marianna is going to drop piano because, despite having a talent for it, she won't practice and thus won't improve and thus I just don't want to pay $30 a lesson for something that's not going anywhere. She's only five, so there's plenty of time to give it another try a couple of years down the track.

Have been eating well but have only lost about 200 grams; hardly worth mentioning. Maybe it'll be a slow build up and then - wham - 5 kg gone overnight. I've bought Blackmore's Metabolism Advantage because I'm always looking for the "magic" thing. Will get back to you on how useful it proves to be.

I made Empanadas today. Have been meaning to for ages. They are my favourite Colombian dish. La Cumbia, the Colombian restaurant at Kensington, makes wonderful Empanadas. I happened to be passing there yesterday and dropped in for some of the special cornmeal you need to use for the Empanada dough. Today I made some and they were delicious, especially with the green onion, tomato and corriander aji I made to spoon over them. Damn it, why are deep fried things so yum?

Well, that's about it. Not much happening around here. Until next time.

Another year rolls on

Monday marks the start of another school year, more than January 1, it's the official start of the year if you are a parent. For me January sort of floats by, doing enough work to keep things rolling on that front, but equally hanging out with the kids. I'm not a "let's get out the craft box and make a rocket out of this old box and some crepe paper" sort of mother. I'm a "let's go to [insert name of child friendly activity/venue here]" sort of mother. To be honest these holidays they have been taken out for lots of fun days by my mum, my sister and my dad. I've actually seen it as my job to ensure they have some "boring" days around the house so that they don't come to expect everyday to be an outing day during the holidays. But even boring days usually involve time down at the pool and/or the park and/or Wii and/or friends over for a play. So not quite the boring days I had as a kid when I would just hit the tennis ball against the back wall at home for hours on end or read on my bed for hours on end. Good times.


Today I have started thinking about the year ahead now that the official start of the year is only a few days ahead. After always saying I didn't want my kids to be over-scheduled I have ended up with over-scheduled kids and thus and therefore over-scheduled parents.


At this point our weeks are going to look like this:


Monday: Will has Learning Links school age program (for children with learning difficulties) from 4 to 6 pm... at Peakhurst which is somewhere between 30 and 60 minutes drive away (depending on traffic) from his school and my office. This will involve me picking him up from school at least 10 minutes early to ensure we get there on time and my dad picking up Marianna from school and her waiting at the office until Big Jay can collect her at 5-ish to take her home.


Tuesday: Marianna's piano lesson (if we can reschedule - it was Wednesday last year).


Wednesday: Marianna's ballet lesson.


Thursday: Marianna's jazz and tap lessons. Will has Scouts.


Friday: The Holy and Blessed Day of St Nothing. The day I don't work and the kids don't have any activities. Which means I run around all day getting all those chores done which don't get done the rest of the week and then we come home and collapse with a take away dinner and a movie.


Saturday: Will is starting soccer, at the ripe old age of almost 12, which means Big Jay (or occassionally yours truly) will be driving him all over the countryside for games.


Sunday: [no rest for the wicked] Miss M has also decided to do soccer so I will be driving her all over the countryside for games.


Somewhere amongst that they will both have after school soccer practice.


Let's not mention the eleven Sydney Swans home games between March and August, the assorted Sharks games Big Jay tries to get to plus assorted birthday parties, school functions, concerts* and various other events which pop up on a very regular basis. Oi vey!

*March seems to be concert month this year. We're going to see Billy Connolly and Tim Minchin, I'm taking the kids to see Weird Al (I take full responsibility for converting them), I'm going to see Neil Diamond with my friend C on the same night Big Jay is going to see Santana and I'm taking my mum and sister to see Missing The Bus To David Jones which by all accounts is a musical about old people in nursing homes... and doesn't that sound hilarious. Apart from all that Big Jay is going away for his annual golfing pilgrimage to Coffs Harbour in the middle of March and we have to squeeze in some type of familial celebratory function for my birthday.

Sorry for boring you, dear reader/s, with the trivialities of my life but this cyber document is also my journal and must include, apart from my deep and insightful musings on the greater life questions, the details of my life which I hope to look back upon one day, as I kick back at Shady Pines, and laugh and laugh....

The Crazy continues...

In the week following M's dance concert we had my work Christmas party, the next day M had two parties to attend and W had a friend over to play. We then rolled into the week with the school presentation day, followed by the day we left for the Hunter Valley for a weekend away which included A Day on the Green.

These two weeks featured an overlay of extra crazy for me because I was helping to organise the Year 6 Farewell at our school (the traditional job of Year 5 parents). This was an interesting job which included meetings, countless emails, a certain amount of frustration in dealing with the school beaurocracy, many hours spent mucking about with the all important individualised place mats, culminating with a full day of decorating the hired hall for the big night (we had chosen the surprise "HORROR" theme and while I have absolutely no imagination and/or decorating talent in this regard the ladies who were in charge of this job did a mind blowing job and it came together brilliantly).

The day of the Farewell function (and thus the big decorating day) was the Friday we left for the Hunter so it was a matter of working all day at the hall, picking up the kids from school, Big Jay from work and heading straight up to Broke where our accommodation was located. It was just gorgeous to roll up to this dated, though lovely, house surrounded by olive trees and rolling hills, meet our friends and take a breath. I so needed that weekend.

We were there for the Blondie and The Pretenders Day on the Green and it was good, so good. You don't go to the Days on the Green for the sound quality; you go for the atmosphere... the vibe, man. Despite half of Australia being under water Bimbadgen Estate was a haven of perfect outdoor concert weather. Not too hot, not too cold, a light breeze. Perfect.

We camped out in a good spot, spread out our array of snacks and enjoyed a few hours of people watching before the bands. The Pretenders were first and to summarise Chrissie Hynde still has "it"; the original rock chick. I love seeing a woman of advancing years looking like a real woman. She's had a full life and it shows on her face, it's so real and sexy. Not a frozen, plastic face masking reality, erasing history. It was funny to think that the new band members were not even born when I was first listening to Brass In Pocket.

Then Blondie. We saw them a number of years ago at the State Theatre and that was a wonderful, memorable night. This time I have to say they were somewhat "off". Not sure how to put my finger on the problem. The sound just not so good, the timing not right, the vibe a little low. Whatever the issue it was all worth it for the amazing version of David Bowie's Heroes. Wow! Nevertheless I would probably give a limb to hear them do Tear Her To Shreds, a pleasure I will unlikely witness in this lifetime.

[Note to drunk dickheads at outdoor concerts: Please watch out for sleeping children on picnic blankets. They don't tend to like being stepped on. Sleeping children or not, don't step in the middle of people's picnic blankets, if you're not squishing a child you're likely to be squishing a nice piece of brie.]

So where was I? The Monday after A Day on the Green featured the U2 concert for Big Jay (better him than me!). He went early with our friend B and lined up for a special place in the mosh pit resulting in a bunch of great photos (unfortunately they were of U2) like this one:


























That same evening Will was dancing in Dance Fever with all the kids from Years 3, 4, 5 and 6. Dance Fever is a ballroom dancing style competition for primary schools. His school has been involved for the past few years and it is great fun. The kids get to dress up and have a go at some simple dance routines. For the first time Will and his partner made it into the finals of the Cha Cha which was a great thrill for me, not so exciting for him.

Another late night in a string of late nights. The kids were really hitting the wall by now. Luckily the crazy was over for them. But not for me...

Under the weather

Isn't that a funny saying? But so apt today. I'm feeling unwell, a yucky head cold which means my nose is running like a tap, my throat is aching and my head is throbing.

Last night we were literally under the weather as we watched, and listened to, the most magnificent storm roll over Sydney. Is anything nicer than being cosy inside your home, your children sleeping in their warm beds, while a huge, loud storm plays out in all it's glory outside your windows and above your head? Bliss.

It's been a big week and weekend, probably the biggest of the year in terms of physical workload. I enjoyed it but I'm glad it's over.

Saturday was my dad's 70th birthday party which we held at our home. Just a small get together (dad's not the most social person on earth), finger food and drinks on our deck. This involved lots of shopping and cleaning (may I take a moment to thank my wonderful hubby Big Jay who rolls up his sleeves and helps out big time during these stressful times when I'm running around like a headless chicken on crack) and a great day of food preparation with my MIL, my sister J and her friend R (who had flown in from Ireland only two days before). There's something gorgeous and old school (damn you Cake Boss, I can't get that phrase out of my mind!) about a group of women hanging out in the kitchen, preparing food, talking, laughing.

Sunday was the kids' school fete which was bigger and better than ever after being cancelled last year because of the BER (may the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits JGill). I was in charge of the cupcake and gingerbread man decorating stall and because I had only ever seen it done once (at a chocolate festival I attended in Melbourne last year) and because I had no idea how many kids we would get through I over ordered big time and spent lots of time worrying about whether we'd have enough icing, smarties, serviettes...

The day was fun and my kids certainly had a ball but our stall was on the quiet side and we had lots and lots of uniced cupcakes and gingerbread people leftover. So after getting home absolutely exhausted on Sunday evening I sat up and iced about 50 cupcakes to take to the canteen on Monday (those cupcakes might as well get used up and I have never met a kid who doesn't love a cupcake). At least I got to watch the last two episodes of True Blood while I was icing away and all I can say is Alan Ball you are a wicked man, why do you keep us hanging like this at the end of each season.

I barely got any sleep on Sunday night, having gone to bed very late (I couldn't stop myself watching My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, which was rather interesting reality tv) and then woke up on Monday with this head cold. Took a lot of effort to get through the day at work without collapsing face first onto my keyboard.

Then last night Marianna and I decorated about 50 or so gingerbread folk to take to the canteen today... And then, because a martyr's work is never done, I sat up and finished cutting out, addressing and packaging up the invitations for the Year 6 farewell (which I am co-ordinating, being a Year 5 class mum this year).

I have woken up this morning feeling like someone has used my head for a ball during a particularly energetic AFL grand final. I suspect I'm in the final half of my 48 hour cold but I'm not at my best and would give almost anything to get back into bed with my Kindle and finish The Mermaids Singing which strangely seems to be a book I can't quite get into.

Despite all that whining I do feel a great sense of achievement and also relief. I am definitely on the downward slide of the work mountain which builds up at this time of the year. While there is still lots to do between now and the big day on the non-denominational festive season calendar a huge part of the pressure has now lifted.

So onwards we march... my personal little reward is going to be seeing The Loved Ones next Saturday. What an awesome little horror movie that is promising to be. This blog is about nothing if not about tangents.

This funny feeling

It feels strange not to have to write every day. It was certainly a challenge to write something each day for Rocktober (though I did cheat once or twice by writing more than one installment on a single day). I enjoyed it but it did weigh on my mind and at times I would go blank, not being able think of a single song worth writing about. Other days I would be driving along (driving seems to be the time I am most able to think) when 10 great songs would pop into my mind.

This is the time of the year - late October/early November - when I feel like I'm being sucked into the path of an oncoming freight train. There is so much going on with school commitments (being a class mum I'm involved with the school fete and the year 6 farewell function plus there are the events which must be attended like Dance Fever and the school presentation day), work end of year stuff (like organising the Christmas party and ordering gifts for clients and staff), general kid stuff (like Marianna's dance concert which involves three rehearsals in three completely different parts of Sydney) plus assorted birthday parties, general social stuff like Christmas parties and other end of year catch ups and general social events which just happen to fall during this time of year. Don't get me wrong I love the social stuff and I love being busy but this is definitely what I call too much of a good thing. With so much going on I barely have time to draw a breath and I am always thinking about the next thing which means I am hardly ever "in the moment" enjoying the thing I'm doing right now.

It's all feast or famine in life, isn't it? When I visit my grandmother in Shady Pines I see all the very elderly folk who have nothing but time now. Their lack of physical health means they can no longer do the things they used to do so they fill up their days around the home playing cards, reading, chatting, sitting. To someone like me who is always rushing through, spending half an hour visiting before running off onto the next errand, this seems blissful. What I wouldn't do to have an hour to sit in their lovely garden with a book and a cup of tea. We each look at each other jealously in some ways, wishing for a little of what the other has.

I try, and generally fail, to each day appreciate and enjoy what I have and what I'm doing right now. My pace, and stage, of life means I hurtle through each day, manically getting my tasks done (mostly without any real joy, simply because there just isn't the time to enjoy any emotion except frustration because nothing is ever done fast enough) and the little spare time I have is usually spent daydreaming about my long lost (at the time not appreciated) youth or planning for some event in the future.

But when I do have a moment like this one, when the children and I have had a lovely morning with no-one yelling or complaining (it's still early though), the pre-work morning tasks are mostly done and I'm typing this while the kids get a short burst of The Goodies, I take a breath and think how very lucky I am at this moment... and I savour this beautiful funny feeling.

Woops!

Sorry about that. Life just sucked me away from blogging for a few days there.

Started with a class performance Will was participating in which meant we didn't get home to bed until 11:30 pm on Thursday night (after a much earlier than normal start to the day... which included me helping at the uniform shop during the orientation day for the new Kindy 2011 families at our school). There's a blog entry on school performances coming up.

Friday night we caught up for dinner with friends we hadn't seen for a little while (howdy, M, C and I). That, again, ended being a late night after the "system" ate out dinner order and we ended up actually eating much later than expected.

Saturday we ran around like lunatics getting organised so we could drop the kids at mum's place and then head up the Central Coast for a wedding. I may do a seperate rant about weddings soon. The most important point to make is we stayed the night at The Beachcomber Motel in Toukely and it was absolutely AWFUL. The room was very run down and smelly and to top things off the bogans from the nightclub kept me up most of the night yelling and swearing on the street outside our window. Oh joy!

This morning we rushed home (not that I was sleeping anyway) so that I could take Marianna to a Halloween party at a classmate's house (wow! what a party... some people know how to do things right... some may say OTT, but I wouldn't).

Have spent the last couple of hours by the pool with the kids, reading the Sunday paper and trying to unwind a little. I'm super tired and I know that as soon as dinner is done and the kids are in bed I'm going to hit the wall, hard.

For now, let's catch up on Rocktober... Resuming normal transmission in 10, 9, 8...

All quiet on the blogging front

After last week's confession I felt a little drained and shellshocked. Your positive comments made me feel a hell of a lot better, so thank you very much cyber (and non-cyber) friends. A little "we love you, even though you're a bald freak" goes a long way... (hey, I wonder if that's why I like Devon Rex cats so much....).

I'm really feeling much better. I think that it's a combination of simply getting used to both the idea of my new hair and actually seeing myself in the mirror every day plus a lessening of my initial anxiety (probably because I've started back on the oestrogen patches, menopause having increased my base rate anxiety by about 1,000,000,000%) . At first I was "who the hell is that?" and now I'm getting comfortable with my new image. Also the world hasn't come to a grinding halt, so all is good.

Apart from the hair stuff, life goes on. The kidlets have been at average driving-me-crazy levels and have had many moments of this-parenting-caper-is-pretty-good. Maybe I'm just choosing to downplay the there's-going-to-be-a-murder-suicide-situation-here moments (like Marianna having a meltdown at dinnertime most evenings this week, causing whatever it is we choose to call a routine to go totally out the window).

Will is maturing into an almost teenager and it is both wonderful and frightening. Yesterday walking through the shopping centre (to OPSM to order his new glasses - having recently had a much overdue opthamologist appointment we know he needs a much stronger pair of glasses), Will skulked behind Marianna and I, walking with his hood up and his arms crossed. Oh vei, I thought, the vision of things to come.

In other Will news, it will be 10 years tomorrow (11 September 2000) since we landed back in Sydney with baby Will in our arms. Our trip to Guatemala to bring home little Will was the start of our parenting journey and an amazing time in our lives. Getting off the plane to a terminal full of family and friends (and assorted Olympic competitors) was a very memorable moment. So tonight we'll be having a little family celebration dinner. Happy Family Day to us all!

On the Swans front (and a very important front it is!) things are going well. For those that know and/or care the Swans won (just!!!) their elimination final and will now play Western Bulldogs tomorrow night. Even though the Dogs are in a pitiful state with many good players injured I can't assume my Swannies can walk all over them. The Swans are quite good at snatching defeat from the jaws of victory (and sometimes visa versa). As such it will be a tense game I'm sure (but after last week's nail biter I can cope). I'm disappointed that my current favourite Jesse White (ggggrrrrrr!) (I think it's the tatts, the height and the Clarence the Cross-eyed Lion look) has been sidelined in favour of Daniel Bradshaw (this year's great white hope, who has sat out most of the season with injury). Not happy Roos! Let's hope it's not a mistake and... GO THE SWANNIES!

I've been loving the second series of Come Dine With Me Australia. It's Big Jay's and mine guilty pleasure. It has re-doubled my need for a Thermomix. Having seen it in action during one of the new episodes I crave it so much. But at $2,000 it's a kitchen appliance which I will just have to do without until that Lotto win finally comes through.

Speaking of cooking shows, you just know I'll be watching Junior Masterchef this Sunday night. I don't want to but I will. The kids are looking forward to it so I guess we'll make it our Sunday night family show to watch. It's just that there is something creepy about a 12 year old whipping together a beurre blanc sauce, don't you think.

After watching the first episode of the third series of True Blood I have IQd the rest of the episodes and just can't seem to get back to watching them (Big Jay not being a fan it's hard to find time to watch it on my own). It looks like a great season and getting sexier by the minute. Damn it, I love those blood suckers! Even the awful Eric is looking very hot this season.

As you were.

Perth Pics

My little munchkins amongst the gumnut babies.

The volunteer guides at Fremantle Prison were not willing to take cash to keep them like this for a few hours. Sheesh! We tried.

Payng hommage to Bon Scott on the Fremantle waterfront.

For those of you who think that making children live in an apartment in Australia (the land of the quarter acre block) is cruel and unusual punishment, here is Exhibit A:

This is our virtual backyard, the park just downstairs from our apartment. Notice the water backdrop, the grass, the garden and the paths for bike and scooter riding. Notice the happy smiling children (yes, they do smile and are happy occassionally, when they are not lementing how mean and horrible their parents are).

Here is a photo I like even better:

These pics were taken by their Baba (my mum) who looked after them on Sunday while I was out galavanting with my girlfriends. Thanks, Baba!

I love Southern Fried Momma - she writes the funniest shit... and this blog entry about her parenting style and the idea of homeschooling really made me laugh/shudder/nod in empathy.

I mean who would think that homeschooling is a good idea? Seriously people, there are trained, [reasonably] well paid professionals to do this dangerous job, why would you contemplate doing it yourself. Personally I think DIY is for suckers (or at the very least enthusiastic amateurs); whether you're talking about painting the spare room (looks easy, but isn't) or clearing the blocked toilet (looks dirty, is dirty, but it's better than waiting for the slackarse husband to get around to it), it's all ugly and should be left to the specialists. Working with children is doubly more so. They are unpredictable, they can and will hurt you, their whinging voices can cause mature adults to lose the will to live. Why would you try this at home?

So if it means sitting through unbelievably dull Fete meetings (like I did last night) in order to fundraise to support the public school our children attend I'm all for it. I'll go to meetings, sell raffle tickets, bake cakes, set up and dismantle fete stalls, anything but sit down with my child and try to teach them anything. I've tried and failed and I am very reluctant to do it again.

Three cheers for the teachers of this world; the people who willingly put their lives and sanity on the line each day to teach our children so that we don't have to!

This morning while getting dressed Marianna said "mummy, I'm never getting married".

"Why not?" I asked.

"Becuase I don't want to kiss boys" she said.

1) She has a point.

2) I am having a contract drawn up to reflect these words which I can whip out to show her when she is 16 (and wants nothing more but to kiss boys) and point out to her that she signed and initialed here, here and here.

3) This may have been brought on by her catching Big Jay and I having a brief smooch this morning. I know! Enough to gross anyone out.

I am writing in the hope that the act of writing will inspire me to write something worth reading. Are you with me?

I'm home this afternoon with one sleeping semi-sick child and one on holidays semi-bored child. Marianna awoke this morning with a temperature and a bit of a cough and a bit of a runny nose. Nothing serious (I hope). No curly tail or oinking at this point. Will is home on school holidays. So Big Jay stayed at home for a few hours this morning while I whisked myself to the office to get the wages done. I've been home since about 11 am (at which point Big Jay went to work). So far I've hung out laundry, put away laundry, printed off a tonne of envelopes for the invoices I printed at work last week and packed the envelopes (with Marianna on stamp duty). I've also printed off some maths revision sheets for Will (who was thrilled, let me tell you). I'm about to boil up some pasta to go with the bol sauce I made yesterday afternoon.

Speaking of cooking I have to tell you about the Jerusalem Artichoke Soup I made for lunch yesterday. These little critters are very confusing. They are not artichokes, they are the tubbers of the sunflower and they look like ginger, so by and large people who don't know them avoid them. I really loved the soup I made from them so I would recommend people giving them a go. Very similar to a potato in usage, you could mash them or roast them or pan fry them. I made a cream soup and it was sweet, nutty and delicious.

Tonight I'm off to another free movie care of http://www.kidspot.com/ . This time it's the new Aussie flick Last Ride with Hugo Weaving. It's on at Dendy Newtown so I'll be off to where all the young hip people are, I'm sure to blend right in.

Better mention the girls' weekend I enjoyed the weekend before last. Our playgroup mums' annual weekends away are now a well established institution, this having been the 3rd one. This time we enjoyed the attractions of beautiful Bowral and surrounds, including our now famous long lunch on Saturday afternoon at Centennial Vineyards (where I had previously seen Leonard Cohen earlier this year). The long lunch is a highlight of our weekends away and this one lived up to expectation, especially my rhubarb souffle with walnut ice cream (I wish I had ordered it for entree and main, it was THAT good).

This weekend just gone featured Saturday afternoon at the Swans vs Essendon game. We lost which was disappointing though not unexpected, it's been that sort of year. The highlight (or possibly low light) of the afternoon was the farewell to Barry Hall. Sure he's a thug, but he's OUR thug and we love him. The kids (with a great deal of help from mum) made a sign stating "Bye bye Barry. We'll miss you. Love Will and Marianna". Not sure if Barry saw it but it did come to the attention of one Deborah Hutton who was walking behind us after the game. We had a brief exchange regarding Barry's teary goodbyes and I will count that as one more in my pathetically short and dull list of brushes with fame.

A couple of pics to finish off this bit of useless drivel:

My big girl blowing out her candles at her 4th Birthday Party in May.

Cheer cheer the red and the white...

Nothing better than a hug from a giant baby swan...

Bye bye Big Bad Bazza.

For those who don't believe a four year old can love oysters.

If you ever get the impulse to take your family to the Sydney Easter Show here is my advice: Take $300, place in nearest garbage bin, stay at home.

Honestly I hate it more and more each year. Last year wasn't too bad actually, as the Show was held out of school holidays and it was quite a nice day without the crowds when we went on Kids Day. It's the little things but I especially enjoyed getting the Women's Weekly showbag at half price.

Yesterday, on the other hand, was HELL. It was busy, it rained, the two for one rides thing didn't seem to work very well, the kids whinged, the showbags were outrageously crap and even more outrageously overpriced. I hated almost every minute. I should have known it was bad news when the sign out the front said that the WW showbag was sold out. Big Jay got free tickets from work so at least we didn't have to pay the ridiculous entry fee.

But the kids had fun.

If nothing else I answered the question "what are people doing with their $900 stimulus package?" They are spending it on SHIT at the Easter Show. Bloody hell, I've never seen so many bad haircuts and tracksuit pants in one place. The theme shouldn't be the country comes to town, it should be the Bogans come to Homebush Bay.

Don't be jealous now. This big hunk of man is all mine!

Look how much joy a hug from a giant baby swan provides for my little munchkins! Cyggy is very much loved by the junior members of our family.

I think this gives you an idea of what we're dealing with here...

On the other hand, we also have this version...

A couple of pics from the weekend...


























My baby boy is growing up.

Marianna and I. I like to call her Gordon-ette Ramsay. She might not be able to cook like him (yet!) but she already has the attitude.

Will has been using my MP3 player to listen to the "maths music" which I have downloaded for him (these are maths learning songs which are proving very useful in helping him to learn his times tables, etc). Now that he has grown comfortable with using the gadget he has started working his way through my music - namely the Leonard Cohen/I'm Your Man CD. It warms my cockles to hear him singing along to If it be your will and Everybody knows, the adult lyrics sounding both sweet and odd coming from his mouth.

Some of you may have noticed that the Cancer Council is using the original Everybody knows (sung by L. Cohen) for their latest super gruesome anti-smoking ad. I don't really want the kids watching the ugly images but it does crack me up when they both run to the tv and stand in front of it, somberly singing along.

Speaking of brainwashing your children to like your music, a few weeks ago we were driving along and a Red Hot Chili Peppers' song came on the radio. I said to Will "do you know who this is?" and he looked at me like I was an idiot and said "yeah, it's the Red Hot Chili Peppers... my favourite band". Oh how my heart soared at that moment. Are there any sweeter words a mother can hear?

Which makes me think of the future. Of the unavoidable fall which is sure to follow such wonderful highs. What musical trend or subculture will my children detour into as teenagers, once my parental influence is not only watered down but defiantly avoided? As my parents couldn't imagine the punk and skinhead world I would fall into, I cannot imagine what variation of Emo, Death Metal or (much, much worse) Missy Higgins my children will embrace.

One thing is guaranteed. No matter how open minded we, as parents, think we are our children will undoubtedly find ways of challenging us throughout their teens. Is it harder for children of "modern" parents (as opposed to more conservative ones) to achieve that shock factor - emotionally, musically, culturally? Will our kids have to push the envelope a lot further? After all my parents were shocked and revolted at my obsession with KISS, whereas I encourage that same obsession in my children. I want my kids to know the joys of singing [yelling] Detroit Rock City while driving with the windows down.

What will my children find to shock me? I know whatever it is is incubating out there somewhere, getting ready to hatch, as Will inches ever closer to his thirteenth birthday.

Some new pics.

(1) Move over Federer, here comes Will Curtis...

(2) Princess Grumblebum receives her certificate from Phizz Kids this morning (notice the world's smallest (?) genuine Red Hot Chili Peppers T-shirt).

Some recent pics (mainly for dear Jules in London)

Gorgeous boy!

The Terminator

Our day at Taronga Zoo yesterday

I spend a lot of blog time complaining about my children.

Here I just want to take a moment to say how sweet, gorgeous and precious they are.

Last night, as we were slinking around the house, tidying up after an afternoon of deep humiliation watching the Swans' being kicked in the guts by the piss poor Hawks with our Hawk loving neighbours, I poked my head into the kids' wing and there they were, my little angels, playing happily with the Swans balloons we had somewhat optimistically blown up earlier in the day. Later again, as I put laundry away in their wardrobes, they sat together at Marianna's Dora the Explorer table and drew pictures, quietly working away together, occasionally exchanging a comment or a giggle.

These beautiful moments make my heart swell and my emotions soar.