inner pickle

this moment

Inspired by Soulemama's Friday ritual, here's my moment to cherish this week:

 Adam and our newest addition, Ivy, three weeks old. Asleep almost instantly in the Baby Bjorn on Daddy's chest. 

Photo from my iPhone (using Hipstamatic.)

Have a gorgeous weekend.

xxx

day in pictures

First: you lot have some excellent stuff lurking in your pantries!! 

Sue: can you email me a photo of your mystery vegetable by any chance? 

Am now on lookout for uses for balsamic pickled cucumbers, rye flour (I have a bag of this too, Angie), middle eastern fig confit (YUM) and mango pickle. (Yvette - I have moved interstate and back with out of date pantry items! But salt has such a long shelf life, that's gotta be the one to beat!)

Pantry discussion to be posted shortly. 

Notwithstanding the fact our smallest smallie only got up once last night (what a wonderful little person) my brain is a tad frazzled today so am posting pictures instead! 

The makings of a wedding present for an adored cousin of mine...

Lunch: vegetable and barley soup. Hearty and delicious on a very cold Sydney day!

Sisterly afternoon cuddles. 

Dinner...

   

Hope you're warm wherever you are: it's freezing in Sydney tonight!

xxx

Looking good, Vern. (Or not).

So I MAY have forgotten that the community nurse was coming to our house this morning to check out Ivy.

Now I know she's not 'community services' and she's not actually technically judging me in terms of my competence, but I really didn't do myself any favours. 

Bit of a disturbed night, not too bad, but up a few times and a bit bleary this morning. One of my godsons, Sebastian, arrived early for a play while his mum went into work for a few hours. I was in the shower. Adam's still home, thankfully! Another week!

An hour later, Ad suggests he walks up to our local cafe to get some coffee for us, and thinks he'll take Ivy (cafe owner Judy is already smitten with our little lady.)

So at some point I hear the kids open the front door and an adult voice say: Is your mother home?

I look at my two, it's a cold day in Sydney and they seem to only be wearing their pyjama bottoms. Sebastian at least is dressed. But is carrying a gun. (A gift from my brother for Henry. A Nerf Gun. I keep finding Adam playing with it.) 

The house is a mess and I don't mean that generously. It's a mess. I'm dressed, albeit with excellent bed head and committed ugg boots on. I am so all over this parenting thing. 

Of course the nurse wants to see Ivy. Oops. Call Ad, thank goodness he took his mobile. He retrieves Ivy from Judy and flies back down the hill.

I guess this nurse goes into lots of muddled houses. She did comment that our children seemed very happy (they were marching through the house with drums and maracas at this point.) She surprised me by commenting as she left what a confident mother I was. 

Confident my two half-naked smallies weren't going to catch pneumonia? Confident an additional kid (Sebastian, I mean) actually makes things easier, not harder, 'cause he plays so well with the other two? Confident that coffee happily cures all bleariness?

Oh yes. So confident. 

P.S. Don't know about the kids, but I am happy. Grateful for my family and friends and most of all my gorgeous wee girl, well, healthy, settled.  Very grateful. 

xxx

fine for YOU to laugh

Henry: (To me, while in the car, Adam driving.) How did the baby get in your tummy?

Me: *cough* Really? We're having that conversation?

Henry: (steely-eyed) But how?

Me: Daddy put it there. 

Henry: Daddy, how did you do that?

Adam: (straight-faced) Mummies and daddies have special cuddles and that's how babies get into mummies tummies. (Yes he used the expression special cuddles. My take away coffee was coming out my nose about now.)

Henry: Do you cut a hole in the tummy to get the baby in?

Adam: A very reasonable question Henry, but no, daddies make baby seed and put it in mummies.

Henry: Baby seed?

Adam: Baby seed. 

Henry: Can I make baby seed? I want to make baby seed.

Adam: (Still straight faced. I've given up on the coffee as I'm currently seriously choking.) You can make baby seed when you're a grown up. 

Henry: Can I make baby seed with you, Daddy?

Adam: No, that's not how it works. Hey Henry, look at that interesting car over there! Isn't it interesting!

Henry: I want to make baby seed.

Adam: I have to pull over. Your mother has inhaled her coffee. That's enough about baby seed. 

Henry: Can we have one more baby? We need a boy baby. There are three girls and two boys in this family. We need a boy baby. 

Adam: No more babies, Henry. Get used to being outnumbered, dude. Honey, put the cup down. Deep breaths. OK? Let's go.

xxx

 

How to tell if you're 36 weeks pregnant...

(...other than the conventional way: the big tummy out front.)

* Your five year old asks your three year old to share her biscuit and as you prepare to intervene she snaps it in half and gives him half saying, "sure, here you are." Cue: teary pregnant lady.

* Your beloved one innocently flicks through a newspaper while talking to you and you have an inexplicable meltdown regarding your importance and priority. 

* You bend down to try on a pair of boots (new boots, woohoo!) and find that you can't. Thankfully cool Newtown shoegirl bends down and hands boots to you and directs you to a chair, ensuring a sale.

* Any quite large tattoo you may have of frolicking medieval peasants on your lower back is now a tad larger. And frolicking peasants who were in a straight line now look a little on the turps due to new hips. (Am blaming the easy icecream and all the variations - honey and roast almond tonight - I just HAVE to try out.)

* Just about everyone you meet assumes you're about to give birth any second. Because seriously, you look like you are.

* You're cleaning (a singularly unusual personal experience) and folding baby clothes. And staring at the newborn nappies like they belong on a doll, not a baby. 

* You have a labour bag (even if all it has in it are mini Snickers and mini Bounty bars - for Adam.)

* You're talking to your neighbour and sister in law and friends in the area about the middle of the night I'm-in-labour-can-you-come-and-watch-the-kids-before-Mum-gets-here plans. 

* You are actually very excited to meet a new little person who will always be your youngest, who'll inevitably upset the applecart, who'll make us five, not four, and who you really just hope your husband doesn't name after a piece of Swedish furniture. (Did I mention that I agreed Adam could name the baby?)

xxx

mother's day

oh what a beautiful morning,

oh what a beautiful day...

Not sure how much involvement the kids had in the production of the French toast drenched in maple syrup, but I know they chose the tulips because I heard the story about Tilly the snot monster having an incident requiring multiple tissues in the florist early yesterday morning, from Henry. 

Back to the breakfast in bed.

And one of Adam's special talents:

A really really good flat white.

Spoilt, really. Charms for my charm bracelet, a card that made me teary, and a lovely drive down south to the Lawrence Hargreaves sea bridge and gorgeous escarpment. 

And order-in pizza for dinner. 

And most of all, spontaneous shouting throughout the day: HAPPY MOTHERS DAY MUMMY!

At the end of it: sincere gratefulness for being part of this family. For being given the chance to be a mother. For the mothering I received from my wonderful Mum and the mothered-ness of the world you finally see when you have your own children. 

That continual line of mothers stretching back to the beginning. 

Right through the time when it was often a fatal condition. When every labouring woman bore down knowing the risks. Knowing someone for whom becoming a mum was a final act. 

We're so damn lucky. 

I'm so damn lucky. 

Look at this little family: the light in the kids bedroom blew last night and before Ad could go get a globe and replace it today, he improvised for storytime. 

Happy Mother's day to all of you inspiring and wonderful and creative Mums out there. 

I hope you're feeling lucky too.

xxx 

  

weekendiness

A gorgeous visit to my sister Suze's house... they have chooks! (Check out this pen my brother in law built, clever dude.)

The euphoria of a fresh laid egg!

gorgeous nephew

another gorgeous nephew

and another gorgeous nephew. Blessed, we are.

People with three small boys shouldn't look this good. Newly-red sister Suze. Who more frequently looks like this...

...blurrily busy cuddling a small son. 

I'm feeling fortunate, lucky and grateful today!

Hope you are having a lovely Saturday too.

xxx

P.S. happy earth hour everyone!

  

talking pictures

The photographable stories today: 

1. Teddies on the line. Bit of an accident in a small bed. Who knew how many teddies could be involved? 

  

 Indicative of the favoured few: there were actually more on her bed but these were the potentially affected ones. Each has a back-story, just like all our children's toys. 

2. Gorgeous lilies

I read somewhere that flowers on a table inspire you to clean off the table around the lovely flowers, which makes you then review the mess on the floor underneath and then sort out the room around the table etc. It's true, I think. 

Adam and I are clearing out, boxing up and rearranging, finding room for our new little one who'll be joining us end June/early July. It's fun. And easier with gorgeous and inspiring flowers in view. 

The stories not photographed today:

1. Laughing out loud with Henry's very funny occupational therapist before school.

2. The marvellous midwives at the hospital I'm booked into - I always feel thoroughly cared for when I visit for a checkup. 

3. Reading Between The Wines bookclub, which met at our place tonight, over wine (or tea for the pregnant lady) and yummy coffee biscuits there was a bit of literary discussion. I adore it. It's a wonderful mix of people and there is always some pithy talk and lots of laughing. Perfect. We read Shantaram this month. Next month: Peter Carey's My Life as a Fake.

Hope you enjoyed your Tuesday!

xxx

I am spider bait

No I don't mean the band although I have always thought it might just be the best band name I've ever heard of. 

Let me say this first: I am an animal lover. 

A once-was vegetarian who is still unable to debone any animal and who goes weeks without feeding her family red meat; a 'let's relocate that cockroach/cricket/caterpillar' girl currently happily living with an enormous grasshopper in the living room.

It's just spiders.

Really. Really. Hate. Spiders.

Look I don't know what it's about. It's a primal and totally irrational fear. 

It started when I was young, about 12 I think, when I woke up with an intricate spiderweb right across my face. Not a lightweight one, either. 

Then there was an incident in the early days of my courtship with the Adman, where I was sitting, relaxed, in the passenger seat of his car, with his mother, sister and aunt across the back seat, when an enormous hairy huntsman (WARNING: images may disturb) crawled up the outside of my open window and hung about, considering its descent on the inside. 

I may have screamed. I may have leapt across onto the gearstick. We may have been on a very busy road (actually, the off-ramp of the Sydney Harbour Bridge. 4 lane highway. Pretty busy.) 

Adam calmly asked me to get off the gearstick before he caused an accident, and I (and I still fail to feel remorse for this) took off my shoe, wacked the scary spider, and sent it flying onto the neighbouring car, a beaten up combi van driven by two fellas busy laughing at the screaming coming from our car. Karma, dudes.

Then there was another car-based incident when Henry was a tiny baby, I was driving my sister Naomi to the airport one night with Henry in the back in his seat, when Nomie started slapping the dashboard with her Bare Hands. (Am still deeply impressed.) Unfortunately failed to kill the spider trotting over to my side and I nearly killed us all running off the road but thankfully just destroyed the hubcaps on the left hand side. 

And then last week.

Over at a darling friend's house nearby, leaving late, pull the car out from the curb and an enormous spider crawls across my windscreen. I quickly put my wipers and water on, thinking I'll kill it (sorry spiders, it's me or you) and succeed in jimmying it over to my side window whereby it glares at me then vanishes into my doorframe. I park (actually I just pull the keys out; I'm pretty much in the middle of the road), I roll out the passenger side door and run back into my friend's house. 

She comes out armed with Mortein which she lets loose on the Prius on the proviso I wash the car the next day so as not to damage the paint. But there is no sign of the beast.

She looks at me. I look at her. She suggests driving me home in her car to get Adam (it's 10.30pm, I know he's asleep on the couch) which I think is a marvellous idea.

We pull up, I run in and wake him up and explain he needs to drive back to our friend's house and drive our car home, carrying on it somewhere a huntsman the size of a small country. He amiably agrees and I think (again) how lucky I was he picked me.

So the next morning, I get the kids in the car and I get in via the passenger side (just in case) and we drive around the block to the nearest carwash (for the first time in a year I'm happy to live in the inner city).

I ask whether thorough hosing underneath the car comes with the deluxe wash and they say it can be arranged. I explain the potential traveller. The carwash dude doesn't laugh at me. 

The kids and I wait inside the cafe (it's a hip carwash/cafe. Free flat white and baby cino's for the kids) and after 20 minutes the dude comes back and tells me they've found it and they decided to kill it rather than relocate it, given it's size. 

I consider the appropriateness of kissing him, decide against it, kiss the children instead.

And we're all good.

Till next time. 

Because there will always be a next time. 

I am spider bait.

Really, I should just catch the bus.

xxx

things are happening...

1. Friday night dessert night

We don't usually eat dessert in our house but (at Henry's suggestion) we started Friday night dessert night a few weeks ago and it's a highly anticipated new addition to family ritual. Here's tonight's: the recipe is at the end of the post.

2. School

or: Breaking in the new school shoes.

I've done a lot of reading about homeschooling in the last few weeks which I'll definitely talk about in a future post, but Henry is enrolled at our local school and due to start next Thursday. All very exciting. We've done a lot of preparation (particularly for a kid who doesn't transition well or 'do' change very well) and I'll tell you all about our school prep next week. He is super excited though. Me too.

And still on schools, of all the conversations I've had over the past two days, hardly one does not involve some discussion about www.myschool.edu.au

In Australia, the federal government has created what amounts to a 'league table' on school's performances. From a parent point of view it's very interesting seeing how your local school ranks (incidentally ours ranked very highly) but the rural and regional schools I suspect must be hating this system, and there are many issues with comparing apples with bananas (as my sister Suze, a teacher, described it.) 

For New South Wales our main broadsheet The Sydney Morning Herald actually provided school's rankings from 1 to about 800. A tough business. Great if you're in the top 20, not sure how the teachers in the smaller schools in the 700s will be feeling about this. Or the parents of the children at those schools... Very interested in your thoughts on this!

  

 3. Artificial colour in the garden.

I have somehow managed to kill the majority of my herbs in the past fortnight. Not from neglect, but perhaps too much water and/or fertiliser (from the worms). Very disappointing. Resorted to spinning cheerfulness to inspire the geraniums not to die too.

4. Beloved neighbours back home

Gosh we missed our lovely neighbours next door when they went away for two weeks! We do see quite a lot of them, most of all this family member above ('Cow') who has spent this week almost entirely at our place. I think she missed us too.

5. Sleeping!

Thank you you beautiful people for all the emails and suggestions about sleeping issues in our house. We are now (touch wood!) all good. 

6. Proud mum

Henry and Tilly made some chocolate chip cookies this afternoon almost unsupervised, and gave a little visiting playmate jobs to do that they thought he could manage. Henry retained the egg-cracking responsibility and only Tilly is allowed to handle the vanilla. I'm really so proud of my budding cooks. 

So what should we call this? Peach and blueberry pie, I think.

Peach and Blueberry Pie

You need 1 portion of short crust pastry, I always use this super quick and easy pastry recipe.

I then used half a portion of this recipe: PLEASE NOTE, Estelle's Mum's recipe, NOT mine... ie the one with the milk powder and water. If I want cold custard, this is the one I make. It sets really well, unlike mine. I used half the recipe because I made it a few days ago and that's all that was left!!

I pressed the pastry into the dish, spooned the custard on top then sliced fresh plums and peaches on top and sprinkled with blueberries. 

Bake for 20-30 mins (my oven was quite hot because I was cooking roast beef and baked potatoes at the same time.)

Anyway, it was delicious. Perfect with a spoon of good greek yoghurt. Yum. I love Friday night dessert night.

xxx