Kookaburras at night

I’ve suffered terribly from leg cramps for much of the last year and yes, struggled on. I may be the first person to suffer severe cramp from excessive sitting as opposed to exercise. On the advice of my BIL who is firmly indoctrinated into the cult of ka.ra.te I’ve picked up some magnesium powder instead of the largely ineffective tablets. Good Lord this stuff is vile. It’s like drinking a vitamin C tablet, you know the ones, those you’d steal as a kid for the sour/sweet hit as you ate them. Again, struggling on.

These summer holidays are drawing to a close and may be notched up as my laziest. I blamed our home-bound-ness firstly on Oscar’s daily nurse visit. This was largely acceptable due to them arriving sometime around noon. Of course we could have mooched over to the beach in the afternoon but that would have interfered with my napping. And this doesn’t explain the last third of the holiday so let’s move on.

Felix has fine-tuned his holiday program with a conviction I hope to see in his schoolwork this year cough. He seems to stay up until 4am-ish gaming on his pc and then sleeps until mid-afternoon. I’m sniggering at just how much the back-to-school reality is going to bite him on the arse.

Movies seen: Penguins of Madagascar, The Hobbit, Big Hero 6,  The Imitation Game (brilliant. I don’t get the Benedict Cumberbatch hysteria but he is bloody marvellous here) and Birdman (weird, brilliant if you view it as an insight into a schizophrenic mind. And Edward Norton is brilliant.).

The family realignment sees me cut free each Monday evening. This came about by necessity as if I stayed the boys gravitated to me and I ended up making dinner and completing all other nightly duties. So now I disembark. Last week I had mixed feelings about this and then, over a frozen margarita and some fish tacos, reminded myself how I used to yearn for such a reality. Now I either loiter at friends’ houses eating cheese and drinking champagne, sometimes cocktails, or buy the biggest bucket of popcorn and sit in a darkened cinema for a couple of hours. Last week I drove home and as I was fretting over just what may go wrong this year I spotted some kookaburras sitting on the overhead wires. Laughter in the black of night.

My wretched Ilve oven has packed it in once again. Last repairs cost something like $700. Cue hand ringing. To replace it I need a 900mm oven and all the ones I can find on the market are that width but not the height, so I’d need someone to come in build a frame around it. It all makes my head hurt quite frankly, on top of the fact the repair service I want to use (NOT the one I used last time) will not return my (many) calls. Things logged to be made: macaroni cheese, bacon and cheese scrolls, cinnamon buns.

School uniforms have been bought, shoes purchased, shopping done. I am simultaneously yearning for school to begin and mourning the end of sleep-ins and abject laziness. The likelihood of hearing my 6am alarm? Negligible. Likelihood of waking in a panic at 6:47 when Oscar’s bus arrives at 7:05? Stratospheric.

That is all.

 

Onward.

Well that’s that then

Yesterday marked the blessed end to school holidays. Aren’t they a funny thing? They arrive and we all have a kick in our step about sleep-ins, not having to make school lunches and no notes for two weeks, forgetting all of our children will be in our presence all of the time. Fast forward to the end of those two weeks and we’re ready to neck ourselves if someone tells us they’re hungry or asks what there is to eat one.more.time.

The day was marred by work and having Grover home sick, which he wasn’t really but by the time I realised that it was too late.

I had glorious plans for the first day of solace, the main being getting my eyebrows tended to at Benefit. Instead I spent more than an hour at Roads and Maritime Services (seriously, who put boats and cars into the one department?) getting new eToll tags and time in Kmart choosing undies for the big boys. Envy me at your leisure.

Anyway, everyone’s back today and I shall celebrate by working and watching an episode of House of Cards (ZOMG House of Cards, how GOOD are Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright).

 

Onward

and breathe…

drinks were served under this tree at our wedding – almost 15 years ago(!)

The entirety of Chef’s clan headed off to a family friend’s farm for the long weekend. It was noted that a family of five is now a family of 17 AND stable at that, unless M & J decide to adopt a baby from a developing nation and round out our very own Modern Family.

Awesome family, useless yabby catchers

I love this family. This white bread, straight-up, suburban family. It’s risen to life’s curve balls more than once and done so with grace, good humour and tears.

compulsory artsy shot

I am so so blessed to have become a part of this clan.

 

Onward!

About 56 hours to go. 56 long arduous hours…

Oh dudes, school holidays are finally biting me on the arse. I believe this is because my father and stepmother actually performed the outrageously charitable act of taking ALL of them from last Sunday to this Wednesday.

Yeah, absence doesn’t make the heart fonder so much as it highlights how fucking hard re-entry is.

The moments before we were getting into the car had me in one of those maternal meldowns – the one where you can’t even blame PMT.

The one where you yell so loud and long and at such a pitch your throat goes scratchy.

The one where once you’re in it your internal auto-pilot is yelling, ‘abort abort ABORT,’ but it’s too late. The eject button has failed and everyone is heading for a big fiery crash of emotional annihilation.

Needless to say, on the way to the drop-off there was a lot of remorse on my part.

Lots of reassurance that yes, I would most definitely be picking them up.

That of course I don’t regret having had children and that my daydreams of a life without children are rare and never as fulfilling as my life with them.

I used my own poor poor behaviour to show just.how.awful.it.is when someone says they hate you, when really they just hate what you’re doing, or saying, or not doing. Or saying.

Cough.

God knows if they heard any of it.

Because I then swallowed some of my own advice and showed them I was sorry and loved them.

Yeah yeah, I bought them McDonald’s.

 

ONWARD!

 

 

 

I felt bad about how little we’d done these holidays and then the neighbours built a skate ramp