nest

Little People

I mentioned yesterday my feelings towards Yo Gabba Gabba and received enough positive comments to know that I'm not the only one who furrows their brow and has an aimless scratch when faced with the YGG 'team'. Thankyou readers and comment leavers, we should band together and be un-hip, as one.

Friday night is movie night for my two. I started one week by picking Walt Disney's 'Sleeping Beauty' (onya Walt) which was particularly relevant as we visited THE Sleeping Beauty castle when in France just a couple of months ago.

Here it is. Proof...

This castle was inspiration for the author who wrote the Sleeping Beauty story... many a year ago...

Ahhh.

They enjoyed the movie so much that last night I had another of Walt's classics for them, 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'. Again, a hit.

When asking for it again this morning Jules said, 'Mummy, can we watch Snow White and the 3 dalmatians?' Hahahaha! Tom laughed along then in a grown up voice corrected her, 'They're not dalmatians, Jules, they're Smurfs.' Oh, stop it, hahahahahahaha. 'I mean elves. And there's five of them.'

At this point I had tears rolling down my face.

Dalmatians, Smurfs, Elves or Dwarfs, add a princess, a wicked witch, a prince and some of Walt's magic and you've got a hit, baby.

 

(image)

 

TV Rules

Ok, I'll put it out there. I'll ask the question and hope it doesn't expose me as an 'un-hip' mum. And I'm going to use capital letters to make sure I get my point across...

WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH YO GABBA GABBA? 

Look at them. (image) I've never taken an hallucinogenic drug but I'm certain, if I did, this is what I'd see. It's all so.... colourful... and strange... and those eyes... kind of sad and kind of weird and kind of spooky. The voices are those of creepy nightmare creatures.... and the songs linger and torment my brain for days... 
 

AND WHAT'S THAT?.......

Looks a bit like a poo to me. (image)

We have a 'no TV' rule for before school EXCEPT if both kids are dressed, including shoes, then they can watch TV until we leave the house. Suffice to say, the TV is never turned on in the mornings. And it's 'no TV' in the afternoons too, but if they remember, they're allowed to turn it on at 5pm then off when tea's ready.

These rules have only been put into play in the last two weeks and the arguments are getting fewer. I find that the DON'T TURN THAT ON argument is less intense and more easily won than the TIME TO TURN THAT OFF argument.

We weren't allowed to watch TV as children and if it was ever turned on the channel changer never strayed from the ABC. I never watched the Partridge Family or The Brady Bunch but LOVED watching period BBC dramas or comedies. A dramatisation of Wuthering Heights sticks in my mind as does a series called The Nanny (and not of the Fran Dreschser variety). I found The Goodies HILARIOUS, and still do, and remember rolling around in fits if laughter while watching Basil Brush. Ah, the 70's.

Not a one eyed, all singing, all dancing poo in sight.

So if Yo Gabba Gabba is new, modern, cutting edge children's programming... and I don't, well, appreciate it... ummm, I guess I'm not the hip-happenin' (that in itself shows my complete dagginess) mum I had hoped. But at the end of the day, if my kids know Tim, Bill and Graham better than they know the green thing, the blue thing and the poo, I will feel I have done my job.

Sunday Afternoon

I can't think of a better way to spend a Sunday afternoon than to lie on a picnic mat in your backyard. Particularly during a balmy Brisbane winter when the sky is blue, it's warm in the sun but cool(ish) is the shade. We had a top of 23 degC today in the dead of winter, brrr. The most beautiful day you can imagine.

I didn't sleep well saturday night and I can feel a sore throat starting and a cough (...what's that? oh, just the violins accompanying my woeful tale... never mind them...). After lunch I spread out a picnic mat and carried down some pillows.

Before I fell asleep I looked up into the 'Prickly Tree' or, more commonly known as the Norfolk Island Pine that someone, many years ago, had the good sense to plant slap-bang in the middle of the yard. I love it.

... and will happily fore go a pool to keep the tree. It provides so much backyard shade as well as a home for for birds...

So I looked up into the tree and dozed in the winter sun. At one point J joined me and I marveled at the colour of her glorious hair...

The girls under the cubby house wandered over for a visit and I marveled at the colour of their glorious feathers... black and green and red and purple... beautiful...

...the camera does no justice to their magnificence.

And I watched them scratch the garden onto the grass...

...again. A good reason not to remodel the garden and do that landscaping we're always talking about. I watched them for a while actually. Boring? NO! Never. I even videoed them for a while not noticing the noisy neighbours, loud lawn mowers or aircraft noise until I played it back.

I'd attach said video to this post but there seems to be some kind of technological barrier... shame, the girls gave an oscar winning performance and my directing was second to none. I wish you could see it, I also wish it was still a sunny Sunday afternoon and not this cold, overcast Monday. There's those violins again. 
 

TAFE

Second semester has started at TAFE (actually, now called an Institute of Technology. La de da). Subjects have been chosen, the timetable has been established and juggled and balanced against family life. It all fits in and we're off on another busy 6 months. Busy, yet satisfying.

After taking last semester off, starting back on monday night was a welcome distraction and SO what I needed. At TAFE I am just me, not Tom's mum or Juliet's mum or 'that woman down the street who wears socks with her birkenstocks' *cough*, ummm... I'm just me, a fellow student in an eclectic group working towards a common goal. Oh, how poetic. I try my UTMOST not to initiate any talk about children or schools or parks or playgrounds or kid friendly food or juggling kids with life, or poo or vomit or washing or housework... etc. So basically I try not to talk about my life. Unless asked, and even then I am quite restrained. 18 to 24 year olds without children either don't care or don't get it, probably both, and finding other things to talk about is wonderful.

My first class back was with a group of people I don't know. All are mature aged (!!) like me (!!!) and had come to class straight from work. I thought about how different our days would have been while silently pretending I'd come straight from work too. My cover was blown, however, when I pulled my scarf out of my bag and this small collection of items were scattered over the floor...

It got a few smiles.

When I first started at TAFE Juliet was only 9 months old, Tom was two and my one night a week at TAFE was a God send. I didn't have time to think about what I was going to wear or if my hair needed a brush or a wash, I'd just walk out the door at 5pm, and in the empty car sing happily and loudly to the radio the whole way there.

One night, I remember, after a particularly full on day with baby and toddler, I sat in class and realised that I was still in the clothes I'd put on that morning to go to the park. Then I thought through what had happened since then and realised that I probably should have changed my clothes...

1. The shoulder of my black top was smeared with white stuff which was in fact a mixture of milk, tears, spit and snot.
2. I had pureed apple on the front of my top.
3. A nappy had leaked on my lap, so there was baby wee on my pants (now dried).
4. Around the same time as the nappy leak a milk vomit had landed on my other leg which I wiped off within the hour (I think)(now dried).
5. I thought I'd washed my hands at some point but couldn't be sure.
6. and there was an unidentified sticky something in my hair.

I wonder what my classmates thought? I would have looked a MESS! That was 3 years ago. These days the only stuff I take to TAFE belonging to my children are inside my handbag, and it's not their bodily fluids or regurgitated food.

Phew. Very pleased those days are over. I've got another kettle of fish on the fryer now. Never a dull moment.

Beige

I haven't been writing to nest this last week. I've had other things on my mind... and chest. You'll have to excuse me if I don't share the details of what's been on my chest. It hasn't been pretty but I'm on the mend, thank goodness!

The thing on my mind CONSTANTLY this last week has been a family diet change to gluten free foods.

Yikes.

This has been introduced as a way to try and resolve some behavioural 'issues' we've been experiencing. We're also limiting dairy and reducing foods high in salicylates. So hard. I'm planning a whole new family mealtime menu with new dishes and different looking food. Not good for my picky one, who is also the reason for this change.

Times have been tough around the dinner table this week. Oh, and the breakfast table. And while we're talking about mealtimes, lets not forget lunch. Or snacks.

Two good things have resulted- actually three- from this glutenless household. No wait, four.

1. Before I had children I naively and ignorantly stated that 'NO CHILD OF MINE WILL SMOTHER THEIR FOOD IN TOMATO SAUCE!' Haaaahaaaahaaahaaaaaa, oh, stop, that's TOO funny. It ended up that for Tom to eat anything on his plate a generous fart of tomato sauce had to accompany his meal. And every fork full was dunked. 'Would you like some chicken with that sauce, Tom?' I turned a blind eye but watched with a sick tum and sad heart. I hate tomato sauce. So here's the first good thing to come out of the diet change- tomato sauce is high, high, HIGH in salicylates! HOORAH! A reason to ban it from the house! Surprisingly, there has been no significant backlash. Dinner has been eaten (or not, as the case may be) with the same lacklustre reception as before.

2.  I had always pondered the amount of dairy my kids eat and drink. We go through litres and litres of milk per week and large blocks of cheese just disappear. So I've never worried about their calcium intake, but everything in moderation, right? It was suggested that I try them on rice milk. OH YEAH RIGHT, THEY"LL COME AT THAT! Little did I know that rice milk is naturally sweet so makes great tasting smoothies and is quickly downed when served straight up! Honey milk. We call it honey milk.

3. Taking the gluten out of my diet has reduced my waist line- yes, in one week. I still weigh the same but, what I now realise was a bloated belly, has somewhat shrunk. Yay.

4. The fourth, last but by no means least good thing to come out of this is an increase in 'good' behaviour and a decrease in unacceptable, crazy, uncharacteristic behaviour. We smile more and cry less. Good thing, VERY good thing.

It has only been a week but I can see changes already.

The only thing is that lunch plates look particularly bland.

Beige, yet eaten.