Oh Kwissy Twee ...

The girls have been at me since the weekend to put up the Christmas Tree. And had they (and their father) not been so damn annoying on the weekend I may have allowed it but I decided to be The Grinch way early in the piece this year.

They have been nice to me ever since I should add.

I am, by nature, a rules follower. I don't do things if it's not following a particular protocol so putting the tree up earlier than the 1st December is a big no-no for me and one I have adhered to quite strictly for the past however many years.

But, blame it on the two year old or the fact that CJ has a new job in which he may or may not be home before the sun goes down on any given day - and it could change from one minute to the next too so he'll call to say it's his last job for the day and then call back to say he's been sent on another. Not complaining. Just saying - and that he was required for getting said Christmas Tree down from our eery Flowers in the Attic-like storage spot, well at least how I imagine it from the books and my distant memory of them anyway - and yes, we have told children that's where we put them when they're naughty - and I conceded defeat.

I wasn't sure if CJ would get home early enough again this week to join in the festivities. I know how much he loves it! The carols, the tangled tree lights. Probably about as much as he loves my housekeeping abilities. But if there's one rule I'm sticking too, it's that we do it together. As a family. While listening to carols! And each year he gets it just that little bit more.

So the Christmas tree went up two days early. *Gulp* I feel so naughty. Like Santa won't bring me anything nice this year now because I didn't follow the rules! And instead of a Kindle, I'll end up with a bloody vacuum cleaner. Although, surely Santa would realise that I wouldn't know what to do with one.

My first punishment was relinquishing control of all creative rights in the decoration department. I actually think I touched two branches the whole night and was allowed to put the lights on. The only other input coming my way was the command from The Wee One to. Pick. Up. So that she could then place an ornament anywhere higher than the bottom branches. Have to say though that I quite liked being an observer this year especially now that the two older ones have more of an idea about spreading the decorations out on the tree and not just containing them all to one or two branches. Made for a nice change.

And then at dinner tonight in front of the two tinier ones, AJ pipes up and says "So, not that I'm saying I don't believe in Santa but it does kinda seem like just another person or maybe even the parents put the presents under the tree." That bloody intellectual, overthinking mind of hers. She's seven! And the worst part is, she really wants to believe but it doesn't add up.

Luckily, for me anyway, with her two sisters at the table, it was an easy decision to help keep her believing and I explained to AJ that I used to ask my mum the same question but always got the same answer which was if you stop believing, you stop receiving. I felt so. Inadequate. I am not a good liar even for this.

And then she busted out fairies as another example as though to strengthen her case and I was lost.

Thankfully CJ took over at this point and explained that if it was all logical and reasonable there would be no magic in it. And that is why Christmas is so magical and fairies are magical because we don't know how they do what they do.

Sheesh that man of mine comes in handy!

I know it won't be long before she knows. Really knows. But for now, I'm trying to keep the magic of Christmas alive for her for as long as I can. Plus, I know she'll blab to all and sundry and ruin it for the rest of them as soon as she gets confirmation that she was, in fact, correct!

Bottle Brush or a Dead Hedgehog?

The other day while I was sitting out the back watching the girls on the trampoline, I noticed Digit chewing away on something.

Wasn't me but

check out my ears!

At first I thought it might have been a shoe. She's been really good this far at just taking them but not devouring them so, while I do get cranky at her for taking the shoes, I count my blessings that she's not chewing them to pieces.

Anyway, on further inspection it was a massive bottle brush off one of our trees. I'm guessing it had probably already fallen from the tree but our little jumping bean may have tried to nip it off. Who knows? I didn't even know we had a tree like that until I saw her with this.

The in tact side of the bottle brush

I was taking a look at it when AJ came over and declared "Did Digit just kill a baby hedgehog?"

Aaand the not so in tact side.

I guess it kinda looks like one.

You've Got Male ...

I have been thinking. Yes, yes. I know. So left of centre for me.

Anyway, while I was driving my oldest daughter to school today it dawned on me - and it's not the first time - that I probably should have been born male. I have a feeling I use a little too much 'male' when it comes to certain aspects of my life.

And I think being female creates a slight problem for me. Why?

My brain, it would seem, is wired to be on constant alert for any new potential business venture. The school doesn't have an After School Care facility. I'm your gal. I'll make all the necessary phone calls and get all the documentation. BUT I may not get the time to read any of it no matter how much I would like to - and I should point out that I actually would not like to. I'd much prefer for someone else to read it and just tell me what I need to do in order to get it happening. I have at least five ideas that are just sitting idly waiting for me to make them happen.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying women can't do this. Of course they can. And we do. All. The. Time. We juggle the motherload of responsibilities to make things happen. If anybody wants anything organised we, as women, are the people that are headhunted to do just that. Make it happen.

But this is where I think things would be easier if I were male. You see, if I were male, that mother guilt would just not be there. I could concentrate on creating a business and growing that business, be the breadwinner if you like, with no guilt attached. Because it would be okay for me to do that if I were male.

There would be no pulling at my heartstrings and feeling guilty when I was spending that little bit too long in the office or when I feel pulled to the office but want to be hanging out with my girls.

Again, I know there are instances when indeed the female is the breadwinner and, to be honest, I feel a little jealous that it's not me at times and often wonder if I had gone to university instead of dancing my way through foreign countries if my path would have been more than just a little different. If I had listened to the stuffy ones who looked down their noses and said "Tut, tut. A young girl should not follow her passion. It will amount to nothing except putting yourself in danger." If I hadn't taken that chance and ended up having six years of travelling and dancing and drinking and FUN (well, for the most part. There's a whole story in there about my first trip, the Japanese mafia and a psycho girl named Anita but we'll leave that for another time). BUT I still feel that every woman regardless of where they sit on their career ladder feels that familiar maternal pull when their child/ren are involved.

I don't have many friends who haven't felt it and yet, while the men in our relationships obviously love us and their tribe, their guilt comes from failure to provide and they can quite often rationlise the need to be at work because, I guess, it's the way we were programmed. I don't believe men have it any easier, for the record, and although the lines are becoming blurred a little these days, I do still believe that these primal instincts sit deep within us.

I am also a problem solver. I have that innate male ability to "fix" things. The upside to being female is that I have a little more insight into when is not the right time to use it. But, all in all, I am far more male in these situations than female. I help solve problems. It's what I do best.

And a lot of this has probably stemmed from my upbringing. The easiest way to stay under the radar was to just get shit done. Don't be too emotional for that was when the predator would strike, knowing you were weak. To think "male" was to survive I guess. That and the fact that the two people I admired most at that point were male and the only person I had to teach me about being female was such a terrible example that I possibly wasn't inclined to act that way? Who knows. Whatever it was, I definitely think it was in the upbringing. My wiring changed dramatically in those younger years there is no doubt.

And I look at my brothers and they are the same. They get things done. They both own their own businesses and they both work hard and often long hours to keep the ball rolling. But I daresay they don't feel like they are putting their families second when they do this.

And yet, interestingly enough, my husband would be quite happy to stay at home and clean the house and tend to the gardens (maybe we were part of a body snatchers gang and they got us mixed up). I guess this is why "we" work. That and the fact that he manages to overlook my housekeeping inadequacies. I'd like to say it's because I'm providing a more than adequate service in *ahem* other areas but sadly, with three small people, typing at night and, well just being bloody tired, this is not the reason. He is learning that his time will come, if we manage to get out here alive because, let's not forget we have three small girls who will inevitably become three female teenagers. Is it just me or did you get chills at the thought of that too?

And I know at some stage I will again have the opportunity to grow my business and be the breadwinner if I so choose.

But then, when I really stop and think about it, I wouldn't change a thing. No way would I give up my role here. Being female gives me the luxury of choosing which shoes I like to fill. Sometimes I can keep all the balls in the air but, on those days where I'm lucky to catch even one of the balls that are falling, I know I can let it all slide for a week because my husband is the constant wage earner.

I remind myself that I am the fortunate one that gets the best of both worlds for now and to enjoy the ride, embracing all things feminine while I can, because all too soon I'll be as busy as all get out - possibly during those teenage years when I need to lock myself in the office and sit in the corner rocking - and be wishing for these days back again!

My dream of becoming a librarian may not be over just yet either but for now, I need to go and try and read some of this OSHC information that has been sitting in my inbox for at least a month! Anyone want to read it for me?

Happiness ...

It can come in so many ways, shapes and forms. But images like this ....

Hanging out on the trampoline

They take my breath away. Seeing my girls loving each other and loving being together makes my heart overflow with not just happiness but a little bit of pride too. Okay, well a lot of pride. Because this is when I know that I'm doing okay.

Storytime on the trampoline.

And although quite a few of my posts lately have been of me berating myself and being a little "Woe is me." - actually a friend of mine stated the other day that she found my blog easy to read and quite entertaining to which I replied "Except those Waaaaaah posts!" - Usually (and I'm not lying). More often than not this is how my girls live alongside one another. I feel so blessed to have kids that really respect each other and who rarely fight.

Of course there are always those times when they get sick of each. I would too if I spent that much time with someone else but, seriously, when you look at how often they are together, I'm amazed at their strong bonds and their patience with each other.

And this is why, on those days where I am being hard on myself, I know it's going to be okay.

Can't believe I didn't share these

shots earlier ...

My 'super luloes' will always band together and all will be right with the world once more - well my world anyway. We all know it's going to take a lot more for our world but then who knows what this next generation has in store.

Super Luloes!

I'm betting it's big!

This post is part of the Seven Cherubs' Mother Heart Linky.

Along Came a Spider ...

A good friend of mine offered up the chance to discover our decadal Life Path based on our date of birth and I was ever so eager to hear what mine said about me for this decade. As it turns out, way back in December of 2008, the timing of receiving this information was more than just a little appropriate.

And then a few months ago, I happened upon her new blog - and lemme just say, this woman has so much insight to share. Truly amazing person! - and the first animal totem I read (and the only one at this point) was the same one she had given me way back when. Again, it was timely and just what I needed to refocus where I was sitting on this journey of mine.

So last night I went in search of my 'paperwork' and when I couldn't find it, I searched K's blog to find this animal totem and its meaning. It was then that I discovered she had posted two more animal totems on that same date and yet I had never seen them there before. Until last night.

So here is the one that keeps coming back to me time and again.

Spider

Many cultures consider that it was the Spider who wove the primordial alphabet and that the angles formed by the weave of the web are what gave rise to the letters. Spider was thus considered the first great language teacher. When the Spider weaves its orb web, it weaves safe radial tracks, or scaffolding threads, of non-sticky silk from the centre tio the edge of the web, thus forming a wheel which relates to the Wheel of Life. These radial threads are the supports for the circular sticky silk threads of the web. The Spider travels back to the centre again and replaces the non-sticky silk with sticky silk which it ties to each radial thread, moving the weaving ever outwards in a circular spiralling pattern. The Spider "twangs" the spiral threads to form the "gum" into sticky beads. The sticky spiral threads snare the insects on which the Spider feeds. Spiders are able to travel around the web via the non-sticky radial threads and, with the use of claw-like bristles on the end of its legs, it can hold onto the sticky threads without becoming caught. Should the Spider come in contact with the sticky part of its web, the oil from its body will prevent it from getting stuck. Spiders have a great abilits to repair and rebuild any damage to their webs. If a web is broken or knocked about one day, then in the light of the morning dew the following day, you will be able to see it rebuilt in its full beauty and integrity.

When Spider appears, it asks you to look at the web you have woven. Look at the language you have used to weave to get your way through life. Is there a need to mend broken lines of communication with those close to you? You may need to revise the language you once used and find more compassionate threads of interacting. Spider suggests that, if you are feeling stuck or unable to move forward, you may have become caught in someone else's web or may be snagged by your own negative thoghts or words. Re-evaluate what you have created for yourself and those around you. Spiders feed on insects which can represent negative thought forms so it is prudent to check what energy you have been projecting via your thoughts. Are you getting more attention than you want or need? Is it perhaps time to untangle what you have been weaving? Have you been running around in circles instead of taking a more direct path to where you need to go? Have you been beating around the bush instead of getting to the point? Now that Spider has approached you it may be a good time to review any damage or weak areas in your network. Discard the old that no longer serves you, pick up the threads of value and re-weave your web in a renewed direction. Spider wisdom reminds you that it is human to get caught from time to time, for that is what the Wheel of Life is all about. However, Spider's appearance will encourage you to look for what you meed to clear out or change. There may be new opportunities waiting on the edge of your old web. It is time to clear the way for a new expression of yourself to grow, weave new integrity into your old patterns and so let the beauty of a new and truer you sparkle in the light of a new day.

And if you want to read the other two, take a look over here. It really is quite amazing how information finds you - or you find it - when you are ready for it.

Now if I could just remember where I put the rest of the information I was given*, I'd be one happy lassy!

*You have no idea how irresponsible I feel for having misplaced it. *hangs head in shame*

The Tide Turned Then Turned Again ...

So after writing this and having all good intentions of coming back in to have a good ole fashioned whinge about my mood, something happened. Then I was going to come in and write about how great things were and how good I was feeling and listing the endless reasons why life seemed to be finally getting back on track.

I don't know why I didn't post yesterday's post. Something stopped me. And it was filled with all things wonderful going on right now like the Wee One reclaiming her Fastest Ever Toilet Trainer trophy or feeling so rejuvenated after that sneaky nanna nap - truth be told I did literally fall asleep mid-sentence so passing out rather than sneaking in a nap may be more to the point - and feeling a closeness to CJ that hasn't been in there in a while (glad it's back though that's for certain).

It spoke of long chats with girlfriends and sang the praises of the "sisterhood" - something I now realise does not relate to all and sundry and that one should choose their sisters scrupulously and with fierce judgement it would seem - and that feeling of knowing that, as a collective, we can shift the mood and share some laughs on those days that we really feel like crying.

And I was feeling good. Great in fact. I had a bit of hayfever but was in the party spirit for yesterday's BBQ. It was such a great afternoon hanging out with friends and impressing them with my awesome display of BBQ skills. Or lack there of. Let's just say that me+BBQ=smoke. Lots of. But everybody ate and there have been no food poisoning reports to date so I think we're all good.

And then I proceeded to get sick. And sicker. And this morning have woken up feeling terrible.

But to make matters worse, I feel like a breach of loyalty has taken place (yes, I know. Again) and it has made me feel just a little sad. I feel like, once again, I have been the sacrificial lamb so to speak and when the going gets tough the first person that seems to get thrown in front of the bus is. Me!

Every. Single. Time.

And it seems to be the same lesson. So what is it that I'm not getting? Obviously it's my lesson to be learned but I just can't seem to figure out what I'm missing. Maybe I'm looking at it all wrong?

I'm not going to let it get to me to the point of being back to where I was a few days ago though. It was something I probably knew - who am I kidding? Of course I knew - all along but when suspicions are confirmed, let's face it, it does impact on you that yet again your instincts were spot on.

And now it's time to weigh up the situation and make decisions and boundaries.

Right now though, I'm going to sulk on the couch with my ringing ears - the added bonus of driving up and down a mountain for the school run when one has a cold - and my Lemsip and hope that CJ comes home soon to relieve me of any parental obligations for the evening.

Oh and he can take over the 'bum wee' duties that our tiny one seems to have acquired since regaining her trophy! Thank goodness she's back on her A-game. Imagine my state of mind otherwise not to mention the nappy count! ;p

It's Happening ...

With or without me, it's happening. The Wee One is toilet training.

I conceded defeat today and bought her some pretty Tinkerbell knickis. She loves them! She has great bladder control for such a tiny thing. She will tell me she needs to go to the toily and then refuse to go but it takes hours for her to succumb to what must be a massive pressure on her tiny bladder. Or maybe she has inherited her mother's super bladder (not that it's quite so super now after three rather large babies).

Surprisingly - and I say that because of the two year debacle that is toilet training Schmooey I'm sure - she is doing really well. Apart from my meltdown this morning after a day of her refusing to go to the toilet, it hasn't been too painful.

My meltdown has been a mixture of things that are bubbling under the surface and have been for a couple of weeks now. And I try. I really try not to take it out on the girls, knowing full well that it isn't their issues but my own. And I am creating the frustrations, it's purely my energy. I know this (*winks* at K). A post for another day perhaps, post or pre-meltdown whichever comes first. It's a long time coming though, so I warn y'all it's going to be he-uge!**

BUT, this toilet training of my tiniest child is going okay considering I didn't want to do it and I'm only half-arsed about it. I do find myself getting my hopes up though and, like yesterday and today, feeling very dejected if The Wee One tells me she needs to go and then does nothing. It is the most frustrating thing knowing that she is just being stubborn and there is nothing I can do but keep taking her there whenever she cries wolf or suffer the consequence of ignoring her at the exact same moment the pressure valve is released.

So, quietly, I am wishing this part away. I know I shouldn't be wishing away my last baby's early years but I am. It's partly my mood I suppose but partly the fact that I want the baby years to come to an end now. I want to be free of nappies - well, at least during the day please. Schmooey and her night nappies have formed such a strong bond. It's quite hard to break - and bottles and dummies. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and I'm running for it.

**After starting this post I actually passed out on the couch for an hour while my wonderful husband did the school run and I have to say I feel a lot better. The feeling hasn't gone as such but a little bit of sleep certainly makes a difference. So glad he arrived home early today.

This is part of a blog hop over here at Seven Cherubs' for Mother Heart Linky Day!

Bad Things Happen Outdoors ...

Just ask The Wee One.

Whilst on our camping trip, The Wee One decided she would use the toilet like all the grown ups every chance she got. Hey, it's not that I'm complaining. Well, okay, maybe I am a little bit but Schmooey still isn't trained at night and the thought of training two kids. At once. Well, I'm not that enthusiastic with toilet training at the best of times.

And then, let's not forget that The Wee One is so back and forth. One day (or weekend in this case) it is all on and then this morning, she wouldn't poo on the toilet and did it in her nappy instead. So, you see? Just not really into it. Don't like getting my hopes up and then having them dashed. Especially by a two year old.

Anyway, it does prove that she does, in fact, have great bladder control when she wants to so hopefully she'll get this toilet training thing down quicker than her sister. It does go with her nature to get everything done at lightning speed in the hope that it will make her grow older quicker so maybe, just maybe, it will be the smallest child that is fully toilet trained before the middle (read: lazy arse) child gets sick of the feeling of being wet when she wakes up in the morning. Time will tell.

This is not the point of this post though. Oh no. Whilst at the toilet Saturday morning, The Wee One dropped her dummy on the ground. Now, I am not a germaphobe in any way shape or form and for a second the thought did cross my mind to boil a kettle and wash said dummy as I was unsure as to whether we had a spare. But, hanging out with my friend Sairsy has rubbed off on me and I decided to turf it. I managed to throw it in the bin without The Wee One noticing but on returning to the table she asked for it immediately.

CJ turned to her and told her the Tip Chook (aka the Ibis) took it and it was gone now. She cried for maybe 15 seconds (we all know it seems like 15 minutes) and then seemingly forgot about it. CJ then suggested we try to use this to our advantage, opportunists that we are so he managed to get her off for her day sleep without one and then that night she didn't ask for it either. I was not as convinced being that it would be me dealing with her throughout the week while he was at work but let him have his fun and stashed a few for good measure. ;p

I should also mention that this is the child that has at least one, if not two, dummies in her mouth at any given time throughout the day and at the slightest upset instantly insists on said dummy being returned to her (Note birthday photos in previous post. All photos taken that morning were of her sporting a dummy and refusing to part with it. And I think if you look closely at her blowing our her candle in the previous post, she has a firm grasp on the dummy that she took out merely to blow out the candle. It was replaced to its rightful spot straight after).

Since that Saturday morning she has asked for it maybe three times - and cried when she struck gold and found one in the car that was promptly taken off her and given back to the Tip Chook - so it would seem our dummy era has come to an abrupt unexpected end.

I did lament to CJ though that I found it slightly unfair that our two older daughters had the luxury of giving their dummy to the dummy fairy at their own free will (with only a little bit of encouragement) in return for a super snazzy present and yet our poor third child had hers stolen by the Tip Chook.

*sigh* Thankfully the therapy sessions should be covered by the money we keep depositing in their bank accounts. And let's just say, I don't think Tip Chooks will be her favourite birdie for quite some time to come.

I think The Wee One would agree with me now that this coupled with this most recent event would indicate that one should stay indoors at all cost!

As promised and the rest ...

Bayee Olly.

So, as promised, I have added some photos of the bayee trolley. She still loves the bayee and we have finally named him Baby Olly. He's very cute and as close to a male baby as we'll be getting in this house apparently.

Bayee Trolley.

The rest of our weekend was full of birthday fun and lots of cake! We had a little impromptu party with some friends at a play centre and then Friday we loaded the car to go and meet friends for a weekend of camping. Due to the fact that CJ has only just changed employers, we couldn't go for more than a couple of days and luckily our good friends from Melbourne were heading our way so we only drove 30 minutes to the beach for our first camping expedition.

Well, that 30 minute drive probably took around an hour by the time we turned around twice to grab the stuff we had forgotten. Probably a good thing it wasn't too far away. But we got there, set the tent up in about an hour - not bad considering it was our first attempt save for a quick run through at home that CJ had no involvement in. Thanks to my good friend, EM, for taking up that physical challenge - and kicked off with a Friday night BBQ.

It was so lovely to just not have to be anywhere or do anything and know that we wouldn't need to be anywhere for the next couple of days. The weekend was spent swimming, having a few drinks, enjoying great company and, most importantly, relaxing.

And we got to unveil the "real" cake for the Wee One's birthday. We had done a few impromptu cakes over the past couple of days but this was the real deal. This was the one I had all good intentions of making - and it would NEVER have turned out this good or this yummy - and then, for the first time in seven years, outsourced.

Glad I did though. With the week I had had there was no way I was getting around to making any kind of cake let alone one that resembled three balloons and tasted okay.

Impressive no?

I just had to post a photo of the three different flavoured mud cake balloons (complete with sparkles) and the gorgeous writing that accompanied it.

Blowing out the candle...

And so it is that I am sitting here with my eyes hanging out of my head in need of good night's sleep but so happy to have enjoyed our first camping trip and having the pleasure of catching up with good friends.

Is there anything better?

Stay tuned for the big event that happened whilst on our camping trip. ;p

You're Two!!!

Wow! Not sure how it happened but it's time to celebrate YOU!

And yet, I have very little to say. Not in a bad way just that feeling of contentment. A full heart.

You made it very clear you wanted to join our family and I felt you for the longest time before convincing Daddy that it was the right thing to do, adding another baby into the mix, or throwing as the case may have been for you. It was as though you were tapping me on the shoulder constantly. Kind of Sheldon like if you will.

From this ...

And now that you are here. I don't get that urgency any more. But you. You have a sense of urgency in everything you do. You needed to be here, you needed to crawl, you needed to walk, you needed to talk and you certainly make sure you are never left behind.

And you can be cranky and stubborn and, in all honesty, just a tady whiny. But you are the sweetest, funniest, "kootest", adorable, lovable little girl and I am so proud that you chose me. Us to be your family!

To this ...

And as you push your new ba-yee in his ba-yee trolley - yes, that's what she calls her new pram. A trolley. Been listening to her dad! - you seem so grown up. You know what you want and when you want it. Looking back, you have always known, you just couldn't make us understand. You must be so relieved that we "get you" now.

To this!

Happy Birthday my gorgeous third daughter. I love you forever and a day and wish you fun times and mountains of love, health and happiness.

This will be part of Mother Heart Linky Day over at Seven Cherubs but it seems I'm a little early. Okay it's up now. :D

The Best Intentions ...

After writing my last post and speaking with friends over the past couple of weeks, I decided it was my turn to find some/any form of motivation to get moving for Summer.

It's not that I have much weight to lose but boy, am I unfit and untoned. And that abdominal split is still there, although a tad smaller than the last time I had any real issewes with it.

So, motivated I was. I decided with only about 10 minutes to spare - read: no time to back out now - to pack the jogging pram, the girls' bikes and the dog in the car and take them for a walk/ride after school pick up. And I was excited. I really was.

I picked Schmooey up from kindy first and her eyes lit up when she saw the dog and the bikes and realised this was going to be no ordinary afternoon of peddling around our driveway - I should point out the peddling around our driveway is anything but boring. We have a he-uge driveway complete with hill so once the car is moved from under the carport there is quite the course on which to ride/scooter/gyrocar, whatever the heart desires - and that made me even more excited and feeling like I was doing something good.

We then went to grab AJ. And, although a little disappointed that I hadn't got there in time so that she could ride home with her friend - who lives not far from the school and rides every day. So jealous is AJ but not enough that she would ever envisage moving house - she was very excited that we were actually doing this. Going for a ride up the mountain on a lovely cool Summer day.

We pulled up outside the convenience store and my first hint to run for the hills should have been the dog vomit in the back of the car. But. I pushed on.

After 15 long minutes of cleaning up vomit, getting the pram organised and two little girls into helmets, off we went all excited that we were doing something active and fun.

And then we came to the first little hill and Schmooey informed me that her brakes weren't working. Second hint. All fine and well, I checked them over, made a few adjustments and they seemed to slow her down enough that she wouldn't get out of control. AJ had peddled off by this stage so we needed to catch her up and tell her this wasn't such a good idea because Schmooey was not comfortable with brakes that were only working "sort of".

We managed all of about three minutes I think when I realised that the path we had chosen was far more hilly than I had first thought. So I called it and we turned around to head back to the car and possibly find a more consistent flat area and that's when it happened.

Why she did it, I do not know. I told Schmooey to walk her bike down with me and get on at the bottom. Imagine my horror when she went whizzing by, one foot fallen off the pedal and the death wobbles becoming increasingly worse.

I yelled at her to find some grass but she went in the opposite direction and that's when the slow motion hit. My brain scrambled for ways to get to her without putting the Wee One (or the dog for that matter) in danger but she was too far away for me to do anything. Next I saw a mountain of rocks and wished with all my heart that she would miss them. And then. The road. Oh My God. If she kept going she was going to veer onto the road. I think that's when I swallowed my heart and started running.

Luckily, I guess, she came off before she left the footpath but my poor Schmooey landed face first onto the path, the bike following and pushing her face further into the ground. With my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes, I ran to her, sure of a broken something and visions of an ambulance trip to A&E.

Miraculously, she came out fairly unscathed except for the excuse in years to come for that nose job. Her poor nose has vertical scratches the full length of it and filling up the entire width of the bridge. There was one scratch deeper than the others but fortunately not deep enough to require any stitches. I have no idea how she came away so unharmed except to say that kids really do bounce a lot better than we give them credit for.

Not so happy post-incident.

With two kids now in the pram and me carrying the wayward bike, we made the sad and sorry trek back to the car and headed for home, her feeling very sore and sorry for herself and me feeling very dejected and sorry for myself too at an attempt to do something nice and failing miserably at it. And let's not forget apologising the whole way home and my heart breaking each time I caught a glimpse of her.

Luckily Daddy arrived home not long after with Krispy Kreme donuts and slushies and after clearing her of any concussion, life went on as normal with her jumping on her bike and riding off! Tough!

But me? I couldn't sleep a wink all night, reliving that moment over and over and making sure there was nothing I could have done to save her (which there was not. I know but I needed to be sure) without endangering another child and finally being ever so thankful for the outcome because the two alternatives were so much worse - yes, I came up with two and stopped myself going any further, realising how much I was torturing myself.

Seemingly quite happy today.

Sheesh, that Mother Guilt really sinks her teeth in though, doesn't she?

This post is part of the Seven Cherubs' Mother Heart Linky. :D

Bonding ...

AJ and her Daddy have been off at the BMX track this evening at the real deal practice night.

And when she got home she declared "This was the best night of my life."

We have heard this a few times of late with regards to the BMX. She has taken to it with her usual determined and obsessive nature. The same way she takes to everything that she HAS to be perfect at.

I wish she would realise that being perfect is quite often unnecessary and stressful. I look at her black and white thoughts and feelings and see myself as a little girl with the same matter of fact, play by the rules attitude. I wish the "now" me could go back and tell the "child" me that it didn't matter. That I should have let go and enjoyed more rather than worrying about what should have been happening. And I wish I could tell that to AJ. But she wouldn't listen and probably wouldn't understand. The "child" me probably wouldn't listen either.

I hope it doesn't take her quite as long as it took her unenlightened mother. I didn't learn to let go even a smidge until she was born. Truth be told, I still refrain more often than not but I'm getting better at letting things slide and not holding back.

However, this is not the purpose of this post. Sorry, got waylaid there for a minute.

The purpose of this post is to express how wonderful I think it is for CJ to have his daughters be interested in something that he can enjoy also - let's face it, not many dad's enjoy hanging out at dance class talking to all the mums who are there because their husbands don't want to be that dad. But he has done it with them every Saturday of term. And he doesn't complain, not once. And it offends him just a little when Schmooey declares that Mummy needs to take her.

Having three girls, it was always on the cards that they may not be into bike riding or cars or anything that their Daddy is passionate about so the fact that she is loving this so much makes him love it even more. Schmooey has a bike too so he is really putting on the "Great Dad" hat and leaving his bike at home when it's her turn to learn. He is doing a great job at putting the needs of the girls before his own (it's been a long time coming). But finally tonight, he could go with AJ and they could have a ride together. And apparently a good ole laugh as well!

And going back to this, I really hope that this is a bond shared between them for years to come so that he has some idea of what's going on in their worlds and she has somewhere that, no matter what has gone on that day or week, she can clear her head and just be by doing something that connects her back to her core.

She is so much more relaxed after going for a ride. It must be a great release for her and any frustrations or pent up tensions she has had because a totally different child returned home from the track tonight. She seemed so grown up as she and CJ told me of their evening and the "stacks" they had and how Daddy had "swapped off".

And she laughed and looked really, really happy for the first time today. I know that sounds kind of bad but if you knew her you would see that she lets her mind get the better of her every so often and that charming, funny, happy little girl becomes aggressive and angry at everyone and everything around her. She puts so much pressure on herself and blames herself for every little thing that goes wrong, not only in her world but in our family. It worries me but I also remember that I too was once like this and I too got through it okay - aside from that slight overthinking issewe that continues daily. I do know where she gets it from and it's hard watching her do it to herself. But these are the lessons we set ourselves, are they not?

For tonight though, she went to bed with only happy thoughts dancing through her mind and the cloud of a not so great day dispersed through some serious peddling and a lot of sweat. And it's nights like these when I look at her and really think, you know what, I'm. No, we're doing okay at this raising humans thing.

Fix This ...

Today was supposed to be my "get everything fixed" day.

Everything that has required fixing in the house for the past, oh, maybe three years was getting the overhaul today. Phone calls were to be made to order parts while I had the chance to get on top of things.

From the list - the mental list, my first mistake - so far I've managed to order the shelves for the fridge. That's. It.

And I remember vaguely having a discussion with CJ last night that went along the lines of Blah, Blah, Blah.

And me replying in a quite possibly whingy, I can't believe yet another thing is broken tone: Is that broken too?

Him: Yep.

Me (still in the above tone): *sigh* Just put it on the list - nup. Still didn't think to write one - and I'll add it to the companies I need to Google tomorrow.

I have no idea what it was we were discussing. I know we were getting the girls dinner when we had the discussion and I know we were both tired and preoccupied.

My ever so helpful husband proclaimed "Just forget about it."

Um, oookay. Apparently after 12 years of knowing me, he hasn't clued into the fact that I don't/can't just forget things like that. I am still wondering to this day what happened to AJ's little butterfly adorned thongs that disappeared when she was three. Or Schmooey's little dog, Piti, who disappeared over six months ago, nowhere to be found. Or what that book was called that I read as a kid and liked it so much that I'd love to read it now with an adult set of eyes. Really? Is there even a remote chance I'm sleeping tonight?

On the flip side, I did manage to cross something off the list that wasn't even on there to begin with and have managed to score a new net and spring cover for our not even a year old trampoline.

But, seriously, this is going to mess with my head!

Tomorrow's list. Order a new bedroom door - we haven't had one since AJ was a baby. Long story short, CJ's fist made a not so neat hole in it during a 4am battle with a non sleeping baby after months and months of no sleep at all. I should stress the actual fist through door part was a *ahem* feisty discussion between me and him not him and the baby. Oh and I should further note, he wasn't aiming for me* - and see if I can order a new cord for the DVD players in the car. I can't bear to stand one more day of the Wee One crying "Moogie. Watch. Pease. Mum. Georgie. Watch." Over and over.

And while we're on that. The Wee One has gone all Yoda-like on us with an uncanny ability to speak in a round-a-bout kind of fashion and stop after each word in a sentence. I find myself waiting for more even when she has finished speaking.

But then manages to slur three or four words together at a time. I don't want it becomes "idoewanni". And I can't tell you how long it took me to understand that. I have to admit to being not even half interested in what she was saying and deep in conversation with someone else, drink in hand at my very own birthday BBQ when I finally realised what it was she was trying to say. It pays not to concentrate sometimes.

Anyhoo, truth of the matter is I'm still here trying to figure out what it is that needs bloody fixing. Apparently changing the subject and thinking about something else isn't working.

Going now to prepare myself for a sleepless night.

*I have edited this three times now after reading it every time I post it and then realising it still sounds bad. Bwahahahahaha. It wasn't really that bad. Just a big man with a hollow door!