Silent Sunday

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“You did WHAT with the Lego”

If you are a hardened Lego geek then this post comes with a warning.  As this post contains Lego and glue, yes that’s right Lego and glue!

So you may be thinking “What are you doing!!”  But as I sit surrounded by boxes of Lego, instructions and glue on my table it all makes perfect sense to me.   That I have had enough, no more will I have to hear cries of “Mummy Lightening McQueen is broken can you fix him” or “Mummy where is the rest of my (..Insert any name of a fiddly piece of Lego...)!!”   Now I don’t mean gluing together your general Lego blocks I am talking about the kits, Star Wars, Cars 2, Ninjago, Super Heroes, Lego City etc.  You know the expensive bits of Lego that you painfully put together only for them to be broken 10 minutes later.  Then the painful cycle begins... rebuild....play.....break....cry....rebuild...play.....break.......cry.....

I don’t care if the main reason that Lego is a favourite toy worldwide is because of the ability to reuse the bricks to build new things.  Quite simply I have had it!  There are only so many times one can rebuild a Star Wars fighter, helicopter etc before one completely loses the plot with the dam stuff. 

Now don’t get me wrong I do love Lego myself and can spend hours playing with it.  After all I am the designated Lego builder in our household and enjoy nothing better than getting a new kit and putting it together.  Perhaps that is why I get so anxious when the boys start playing with it knowing that they will eventually break it.

So over the last few months as the boys attentions have gone from one piece to another I have secretly hidden them away.  Plotting on how I am going to do this, waiting until the time is right when I can sit and glue the pieces together.    

So time for a gut check, do I still think it’s a good idea? Yes.  Do the boys think I am crazy? Yes.....   Does Mr P think I am bonkers? Yes... Do I want to back out? No....!  It just needs to be done for my sanity if nothing else....

So here goes.....

PS.  Here’s a tip just in case you think “wow what a great idea”.  Don’t glue the piece completely together, leave a few pieces unglued so if it drops it will break but not shatter...

Argh, Daylight bloody Savings.......!!!

So it's week two since out clocks went back and I think you can guess by the title of this post that I am less than impressed by it!  The reason being is a certain little person in our household who seems to be stuck on NZ summertime so he thinks its okay to wake at 5am!!

Yes the one who is almost 3 hasn't quite got his body clock sorted yet so we have the pleasure of him waking the household every morning at 5ish by turning on all the lights and asking “Why is it dark mummy?”  Needless to say it's taking its toll on both of us.  The other two males in the house seem to have that ability that all males have which is to sleep thru any noise created by a small person in the night.  You know the one, “Huh noise, oh crap, roll over, optional fart or itch, then back to sleep” You may think that this is a rather generic statement but I am sure it just doesn’t happen in our household?

So he is permanently cranky and I am a walking zombie (also cranky) who is craving a lie in to say, oh I don’t know, 6am perhaps...

It doesn’t help either that prior to the clocks going back he was managing to go a couple of days without his daytime nap so he is still trying to do that.  “I don’t need to sleep mummy as I am a big boy now” Oh those words are coming back to haunt me now...

So it goes without saying that he is a walking screaming tantrum throwing tyrant at the moment.  Bless his little cotton socks!

  

Of course in between the tantrums there are a few comic moments like when he falls asleep while eating his lunch or when he totally crashes where ever he was playing with his brother.

Oh I was so looking forward to the holidays and lying in until after 7.  Letting them sleep and to naturally wake up, to have a leisurely breakfast and morning together.  But no the tyrant seems to have other plans for me.

But really, 10 days in and we both need more sleep and he needs to get himself sorted or else I will be medicating both of us...

It's Daylight Bloody Robbery....

I see you there sitting on the shelf, sitting with all the other “Imported” goods. Looking at me, imploring with me to pick you up, to roll you round in my hands, to take you home.

But I can’t... or rather I won't! It’s not that I can’t afford you; it’s just that I can’t bring myself to spend $4 on you knowing that in London you are a measly 68 pence!

So let’s do the maths, 68p converted at today’s rate would be only $1.30. So not only are you twice the price of the Kiwi equivalent you are 3 times are much as you are in England. So being the principled person that I am and more importantly of Scottish descent, that is simply why I will not be buying you. That is why I leave you sitting on the shelf every time I am in the supermarket.

Because its daylight BLOODY robbery!!

Oh, but you do taste so good. Funny thing is I never liked you until we met again in London. I remember trying you as a youngster, cooked in a billy over an open fire on a school camping trip and “Blech, disgusting, not eating that again!! But then my sister re-introduced us, one soggy Sunday morning along with Marks and Spencer Ultimate Mash..  Ah it was the perfect comfort food for a dodgy hangover.

Hmmm.....  Oh I do so miss having you for brunch on Sunday with my eggs... 

So perhaps you can be my little secret, hidden at the back of the pantry, hidden in amongst the other canned goods. Hidden, so Mr P and the boys don’t see you. They can have the less tasty Kiwi version; they would be none the wiser. I could wait until I am home alone to bring you out, cook you up and scoff you down. Mmmm, I know it’s not nice not to share, but too bad. I make the rules so I can break them...

But, No!!

But really, why not I ask myself? When we were in London I had no problem going to the NZ shop and spending £4 or £5 on a pack of biscuits or some chocolate. Surely this is the same?

No, no of course it isn’t!  Then I just wanted a slice of “home”, something tasty to remind me of what I was missing out on.  To remind me of my childhood.

No, you will not be coming home with me.  I simply cannot bring myself to spend $4 on a can of Baked Beans... 

But I may stop by next time I see you, just so we can have a moment together perhaps even a quick roll in my hands.....

Oh shit the boys.......!!

So I had a moment the other day, it was a true “save yourself” moment. Just for a split second or two, okay maybe five I was just concerned about myself.  A true moment where I actually forgot about my little treasures (aka the boys)!


So picture the scene....

There we were in a beautiful secluded bay on one of the islands about an hour out of Auckland. The water was so clear that you could see the sandy bottom beneath. Sounds almost perfect right?  Apart from the fact it was so bloody cold!  Typically we picked the worse day of a long weekend to have a family outing on the boat.  We had the day planned out, stopping along the way for a bit of fishing, then stopping at a bay for lunch and a swim.  Generally getting the boys used to being out and about on the water.

So anyway there we were playing in the water, trying to convince the boys that it was warm while covered in goose bumps and trying not to mutter too loudly about how frigging cold it was.  Then I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. 

"Hmmm that’s strange" I thought, "what’s that?"  

So I looked again and there swimming towards me (I am so sure it was after me) was a large black shape.  Did I mention how clear the water was?  Then the panic truly set in.  

“FUCK, there is something in the water” I screamed while running like a lunatic out of the water. 

Then I heard something that was a bit like hitting a brick wall, “mummy, mummy, MUMMY!”  Oh SHIT the boys, oh the shame, oh the bad mother guilt!

On turning round and looking back in the water, Son Number 1 looked close to tears with his arms stretched out and Son Number 2 was looking his usual confused self trying to get a closer look at what was now swimming around them.  As there were now not one but two black shapes enjoying the water with them! 

So after quickly recomposing myself, the brave and dignified person that I am, went back into the water to rescue the boys.  While trying to avoid what turned out to be two stingrays that had decided to spend their afternoon in the same secluded bay as us. 

So hit with the double whammy of freezing water and the stingrays the rest of the afternoon passed pretty much uneventful on the beach.  Where Son number 1 had to do his first poo in the bush in true Kiwi style and I had to wee behind a tree because there was no way either of us was going back into the water unless it was time to leave. 

Oh and before you think he was going to poo in the water, there is a loo on the boat.....

Silent Sunday

Silent Sunday was created by Jay over at mocha beanie mummy

Bessie....

It seems our boys have a new playmate, a new friend for life.  She has helped them settle in more than we could have done.  She is full of energy, patience and very gentle with them, in fact I think placid would be a good word to use for her.  She is Bessie, my sister’s 2 year old dog.  Now don’t go thinking of a wee little 2 year old puppy dog.  Oh no, this little 2 year old is a big, bouncing puppy dog.  There have been many incidents of “Bessie has pushed me over” or “Naughty Bessie” as Son no 2 has been hit in the face by her very excitable tail.  But all in all they just pick themselves up and carry on laughing and playing with her.

Since the day we arrived they have not left her side, every waking moment is spent running round with her, playing ball or making up imagery games where she is inevitably sat on.  Okay, so that may be where the placid may be bordering on dumb as she keeps going back for more!  But while it may be just games for my boys, she in her doggie way is teaching them some valuable lessons in life, friendship, respect, loyalty and of course love.  That true steadfast kinda of love, the kind that doesn’t matter what or who you are or do, they will always be there for you. 

So while I go and do “Poo Patrol” to avoid any nasty accidents with bare feet I leave you with this poem by Edgar Guest.  I think it sums it all up....

A Boy and His Dog

A boy and his dog make a glorious pair:

No better friendship is found anywhere,

For they talk and they walk and they run and they play,

And they have their deep secrets for many a day;

And that boy has a comrade who thinks and who feels,

Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.

He may go where he will and his dog will be there,

May revel in mud and his dog will not care;

Faithful he'll stay for the slightest command

And bark with delight at the touch of his hand;

Oh, he owns a treasure which nobody steals,

Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.

No other can lure him away from his side;

He's proof against riches and station and pride;

Fine dress does not charm him, and flattery's breath

Is lost on the dog, for he's faithful to death;

He sees the great soul which the body conceals--

Oh, it's great to be young with a dog at your heels!

So here we are......

So hello there, yes it’s been a while hasn’t it? 

We are now 3 weeks back to being in New Zealand, slowly getting settled and so far so good...

The flight over wasn’t too bad with the boys, all 29 hours of it!  Never underestimate the power of Chupa Chups lollipops and Cars 2.  The first kept them entertained during the all so tedious checking in and security process. Of course much more were demanded for takeoff and landing.  The latter kept them entertained on the flight, in between eating (more sweets and chocolate, they didn't want any of the airline food!) and sleeping they were glued to their little screens.  It didn’t matter that Son No 2 couldn’t get to grips with the head phones so just spent the time watching it with no sound.  He was happy so we were happy.

Once we got here the first two weeks were spent travelling around the country visiting family, so more flights and Chupa Chups for the boys.  Perhaps, now thinking about it, the overload of sweets may of been the cause of Son No 1 couple of bouts of air sickness?  We also had a bit of an eating frenzy, eating everything that we missed while in the UK.   The boys it seems have already slipped into the laidback lifestyle here, playing in the surf at various beaches, eating ice creams and running around in bare feet seems quite normal for them now.

Needless to say the visiting and feeding frenzy is now over and we are now getting some sense of normality back into our lives.  Mr P has started work; Son No 1 is in school which is a bloody godsend even if it is only for 4 weeks until its summer holidays over here.  He was getting quite unbearable and annoying, does that make me a bad mother saying that? No, just honest I think, as there is nothing quite like a bored 5 year old to tip you over the edge!  Even he wanted to start school.  I have even managed to find a childminder to look after Son No 2 for a couple of days a week so I can get some much needed me time.  Some time to think about what I am going to do now.  You know those questions that always seem to be lurking in the back of your mind.  Do I work, if so part time or full time work?  Do I do some courses instead?  Can I really be bothered to join a gym?  Should i sneak off and have another cream donut?   Or is it just me that thinks these things?

In the meantime I have a much neglected blog that needs some loving and need to find us a home before we drive my sister and her partner around the bend.....

Silent Sunday

For more great photos for Silent Sunday pop yourself over to mocha beanie mummy

Hey, Mr Fox.....

Dear Mr Fox

It’s over between us!  The honeymoon period of 4 ½ years is totally finished, it’s no more.  Yes, we used to think you cute and endearing, the boys gathering round the windows at dawn and dusk to watch you in the garden.  Hell I even used to leave the odd chicken carcass out for you, and how do you repay me?  By shitting on my lawn!  No, actually you crap wherever it takes your fancy, lawn, footpath, doorstep, hell you have even managed to crap on the boy’s slide a couple of times!

Now Mr Fox, don’t think I have turned anti-fox on you, I haven’t.  I have no problem with you living at the end of the garden, you just need to stop crapping everywhere.  Honestly I don’t want to have to do poo patrol every morning before the boys go out to play.  My boys are Kiwi kids they want to be able to run around outside in their barefoot without running through berry infested poo!

Hell, the liberal leftie bit of me even supported the hunting ban, stopping your country cousins from being torn apart by dogs.  So I feel the least you can do is to cut me some slack and stop using our garden as your own private loo!

So in closing Mr Fox, you can snooze on my lawn, tear the odd ball up but if you want to poo can you pop next door?

Yours

Frankie P  xx

PS..  Be warned Mr Fox, Mr P grew up hunting in the countryside so is a dab hand with a rifle..

Friends, as good as Family?

What do you think, are friends’ family? Do you consider your closet friends more like family than friends?

Well if like me you live 13,000 miles from your family then the answer is, Yes. Of course they are never going to replace your family, how could they? But they can and do fill the gap that exists when you have no immediate family to hand. This really hit home for us last week when we had to take Son No 1 in at 6.30 am for his operation. What would we do with our younger son? No problem, our good friend K, said she would take him the night before so we could just get up and go without having to sort him out. Then when the day didn’t go to plan and the operation was scheduled later than we anticipated, she stepped in again by taking him for another night, so Mr P could stay later, and be there when Son No 1 woke up from his surgery. The whole time we never had to worry that he wasn’t being looked after or that one of us had to rush back to collect him.

Of course I am not talking about fair weather friends or transitional friends, those friends that come in and out of your life at different stages like work colleagues or people in parenting groups. I am talking about your close friends, the ones that will always be there for you, the ones where you can agree to have different points of views, tell you that your arse does in fact look big in that, hold your hair back for you when being sick, the ones where you can feel comfortable enough to sit in your PJs all day eating cold take away from the night before, with. Those are the friends I am talking about.

Yes, your family are the ones that know you warts and all. They know all about your good and bad points, the teenage angst and crushes, crying when watching old Lassie movies! Whereas your closest friends know you as you are now, with none of that family baggage or resentment. They are less likely to judge you especially when it comes to raising children, hands up who hasn’t had an argument with their mother over something that you are apparently doing wrong? They tend to be more supportive of your decisions and actions as they have either been there done that, or going thru the same thing as you.

Our boys will not only grow up with their immediate family but also an extended family of uncles, aunties and cousins that may not be tied to them by blood but family they will be.

Silent Sunday

For more great photos for Silent Sunday pop yourself over to mocha beanie mummy

The Elephant

Mummy?

Yes darling

Why were you and daddy talking loudly to each other?

It’s nothing for you to worry about.  We just can’t agree on a very important matter at the moment

Is it to do with me and Cameron?

No of course not, just me and your daddy being silly

Is it to do with the elephant?

Huh..  What do mean the elephant?

You know the one that you said is always in the room.  I can’t see it?

Oh honey that is just something that we grownups say.....

Why would you say it then if there isn’t an elephant in the room?  You know mummy I don’t think we could get an elephant in here?

Well that is just as well then as we won’t be having one in here

Oh……   So we won’t be getting an elephant?

No honey as I said it’s just something grownups say when there is a big problem they need to sort out and they can’t agree on it

Oh..

Why, what’s with the face?

Hmm, I told everyone at school that we were getting a elephant

Okay, and?

Well I told everyone they could come round and feed it

But we aren’t getting one so you will just need to tell them that they can’t

Hmmm does that mean I have told a lie?

No of course not

But you told me if I said things that wasn’t true then it was lying

Yes darling that is true but you didn’t lie

Mummy?

Yes darling

I don’t want an elephant anyway what would we do with all that poo?

Is it because they are boys?

I had a bit of a drama with Son No 1 last night, not a big drama to me but to him you would have thought his foot had fallen off.  It seems that while he was outside playing he had stubbed his little toe.  It wasn’t until he noticed it, which was about 10 minutes later, the drama started.  “My toe, my toe...  Mummy it’s bleeding, it’s broken, Ouch, Ouch” followed by mock crying.  Get the picture?  The caring mother that I am went over to look at it, but he wouldn’t let me touch it.  So I just declared “Well if you won’t let me look at it I can’t help.  It’s not bleeding now so you are okay”, then went about doing whatever it was I was doing before.  While he continued hopping around on one foot declaring it was broken.

So this got me thinking about a conversation I had with my friend K while on holiday.  She had commented to me on how I let the boys do more i.e. attempt to climb trees, run around the pool, jump off things etc then she lets her children.  This is a fair point as I know I do.  I believe that as long as they can’t come to any real harm and they aren’t running riot than I should let them explore and test their physical capabilities and boundaries.

I would like to think the reason I let them to do this is because I want them to have the same sort of freedom and childhood adventures that both myself and Mr. P had when we were growing up.  I know with society the way it is now we can’t replicate that “happy” childhood that we may have experienced but I feel I should give them the opportunity to do these things.

However, the question I keep asking myself is “Is it because they are boys?”  I would like to think that the answer to that is NO!  That if I had girls then I would let them do the same.  After all, the feminist inside me would be outraged if I had little girls and I stopped them doing the things I did, like climb trees.  But when I hear myself say things like “toughen up” “get up and brush yourself down” “you are alright there is no blood” I have to think that it is, simply because they are boys. 

I want my boys to take (small) risks and learn by their own mistakes.  I want them to understand the consequences of their actions, especially if these actions affect others.  To be more resilient and aware, that the world is not always a good or safe place.  At the same time, to be caring, sensitive and respectful to others and their needs.  Especially as they grow up and become more aware of girls.

As when the time comes for them to leave home I want to know that we have done all we could for them and that they are ready to face whatever life throws at them, good or bad.  That they will be able to cope on their own, to make the right decisions, take those little risks, and understand what the possible outcomes are.  And finally to be loving and supportive partners, husbands, fathers.

So if that means as children letting them jump off a wall or climb a rather dodgy looking tree then so be it.  I will be ready with plasters and hugs.