big boy bed

In about twenty minutes, the Bear's brand new big boy bed will be delivered.


We hadn't planned to get him a bed quite this soon.  We liked the fact that he is contained in the cot, and that for whatever reason, my climbing monkey hadn't ever thought to climb out of it.


But on Monday night, I made a discovery.


It was about 6pm, and the Bear was in his room.  I thought I'd grab the opportunity to try to read him a story.  (I know, I know, what was I thinking - the Bear doesn't listen to stories.)  I sat down with him on my lap, and read "Each peach pear plum, I spy - Bear, what are you doing?  Come out from under the co..." 


And that's when I saw it.  The base of the cot was sagging, just a bit.  I pulled myself up from the floor, using the cot as leverage in my unfit way, and the base sagged just a wee bit more.  "Oh crap", I thought.  I lifted up the mattress and saw, not a cot base, but a collection of kindling held together by more kindling. "Oh, crappity crap crap crap!", I thought again.  


I can only assume that the Bear had been practising his new-found skill of jumping.  A lot.


So we made a frantic phone call to Aunty S, who lives round the corner, I threw the kids into the car, and we went round to borrow their travel cot.  


By the time we got home, Pacino was home as well.  While the Gig entertained the Bear, Pacino and I effortlessly assembled the travel cot swore, shoved, swore some more, had a tiny tiff, and eventually got the travel cot assembled.


And the next morning, the Bear and I went shopping for a new big boy bed, which has just been delivered as we speak.  I'm not putting it up until Friday, because I need to put the baby gate up at his door first.  Also, the Bear will be at daycare on Friday, and, to be honest, I'd rather not have his help.


A big boy bed.  My little baby Bear.  Excuse me while I cry.

the old grey mare, she ain't what she used to be

Soon, I will be the amazing woman who baffles hairdressers the world over.  You, dear readers, will be able to say, "I knew her when..." 


When my hair wasn't completely and irreversibly grey.  When I had a bit of chestnut, chocolate brown, blonde, boring brown, red, black (that was bad).  Before my hair changed in an instant from lovely, glossy, freshly coloured gorgeousness to wiry, stressed-out grey.  The sort of grey that says "Brand new semi?  Foils?  Pshaw! I'll see you your semi and I'll raise you some stressed-out Mummy GREY!"


So what's causing this freakish phenomenon? 


Really?


You had to ask?


Well, it's been coming on for a while now, but the defining moment was on Wednesday morning.  I went to the loo, leaving the Bear deeply engrossed  in Bob the Builder.  On my return, a bare sixty seconds later, he was up on the kitchen bench, playing with something.  On closer inspection, I realised that he was playing with the cover of the phone point.  In fact, he'd taken the cover off (how, I'll never know, as it was allegedly screwed on; the screws are still there) and was playing with the pretty little wires inside!!  Not only that, but he'd taken a picture off the wall, removed the hook, and put the (metal) hook in his mouth!!  


Playing with electrical wires while chewing a metal hook.


There's no hairdresser alive who can deal with this sort of grey.

call me

The Gig wants a mobile (cell) phone.  Pacino and I have told her that she has to wait until she's at secondary school, in about eighteen months.  But she wants one now.


Last week, on the public holiday, we took the kids out for lunch.  It was a lovely meal, apart from being completely bombarded with phone talk by Miss Eleven.  (It's a safety thing, Mum, if you're ever late picking me up; it's so I can let you know if I have something on after school; it's so blah blah blah...)  Her arguments were actually very well-reasoned and carefully thought out.


Which made her all the more surprised when we still said no!


I did, jokingly, offer her a phone like my mum's - ie, very basic, no camera, no internet access - you get the picture.  But no.  Apparently, that would be more embarrassing than not owning a phone at all.  


Basically, the Gig wants a phone for the show-off factor.


So we finished lunch, came home and relaxed.  I  picked up the Gig's handbag, and, curious about why it was so full, yet so light, opened it.  Inside was Ellie, the Gig's beloved soft elephant which she has had since babyhood.  And nothing else.


That's right, folks.  The same pre-teen who so desperately wants a phone is the same little girl who still takes her Ellie with her at times.


A phone?  Not yet, I think.

disappointing news

Yesterday I got an email from the autism centre that the Bear will be going to.

Attached was the newsletter.

In the newsletter was a little piece welcoming "Bear (not his real name), X and Y". 

Hmm, I thought.  That's odd.  I know he's at the top of the list, but they're welcoming him before he's even started.

Hmmmm, I thought.  That really is odd.  Why would they welcome him when he hasn't started?

So, I rang the centre manager, just to chat about coming in and having a look and a chat.  She said that Pacino and I could come without the Bear, then, closer to the time that he starts, we could bring him in.

"Any idea", I asked, "about when that would be?"

"Oh", she said, "not till early next year at this stage."

"Oh", I said, "because I was told by the enrolments officer a few weeks ago that he was second from the top of the list, and that he'd have a place by early October if not sooner."

"I'm not sure why you would have been told that, because any movement that was going to happen at the centre has already happened."

Alrighty then.

Second phone call, this time to the enrolments officer.  "Could you please clarify this for me?  No, you have no idea why I'd have been told that either, when he's about 6th on the list?  Well, I noticed that you've welcomed in the newsletter another boy called Bear.  Could you possibly have got them confused when you spoke to me?"

Yep, that's what happened.  She was terribly apologetic, possibly because I was crying so much I couldn't speak properly, but that didn't change anything.

Bear is not second from the top, and about to get a place any minute.

There are, in fact, five or six children in front of him, and there will be no place for the Bear until late January.

It felt like the end of the world, but it's not really.  I spoke to his speech therapist about it, and she said that it won't do him any harm at all to wait, and it might even be a good thing.  Their programme is very intensive, and the Bear doesn't cope well, at this stage, with too much on his plate.  Another five months could well make all the difference.

I'm obviously really pleased that it won't affect him, but if I'm honest, part of the reason I was so looking forward to getting the place was so that I could have a break.  I love the Bear beyond words, but he is very full on.  I've been hanging on by the skin of my teeth waiting for that place, and it's very difficult to think that I have to wait even longer.

However, life goes on, and I'll just have to think outside the square in order to get a bit of time alone.

In the meantime, here's another park photo, just because he's so unbearably (get it?  unbearably?) cute.

family photo

Perhaps we need to try again!!!

it's a long way to tipperary

And it's a long way from Australia to England.

This morning, the kids, my Mum and I trekked out to the airport to say goodbye to my sister, her husband and their gorgeous son as they start their new adventure in England.  It'll be at least two years before we see them again.  The Gig will be a teenager next time she sees her aunty, uncle and cousin.  The Bear will be five. 

We didn't really have any adventures to speak of at the airport, apart from the Bear's major disappointment when we walked past a lift (elevator) not once but twice! 

The Gig and her cousin had a nice time watching the planes and exploring the airport shops - ahhhh, the freedom of being big kids!

After we said goodbye (which I don't want to talk about because I'm too traumatised!), Mum and I dropped the Gig off at school, much to her disgust, then went out for coffee.  It was a bit too early in the day to drown our sorrows (and besides, my Mum doesn't drink) so we decided to smother them with muffins instead.  Not that we're emotional eaters or anything.

So farewell, Mrs T!!  See you in a couple of years, and remember to keep reading the blog!  Oh, and you could comment every now and then if you liked!!!

a morning in the park (with pictures!)

The Bear and I had a lovely morning at the park with his friend M, and M's mum B.  The boys had a blast

together.   Or, at least, M had a blast with a few other little boys at the park, and the Bear had a blast running around, turning on the taps, and stealing people's food.

Apologies for the mixed-up captions - I've been fighting with my computer over it for the last half hour, and, as I'm now losing the will to live, I give up.  If you can't work out which caption fits which picture, then really, I can't help you!!

We're trying to teach the Bear that smacking Mummy's face isn't the best way to display excitement.  Clapping hands is way more socially acceptable, and who better to demonstrate how much fun it is than your best mate?

<>

The Bear loves to slide - on anything, whether it's an actual slide, or the arm of a sofa, or my outstretched leg.  Here, he's sliding down a yellow ladder.  Even with a nappy on, that can't be comfortable!

Thirsty work!  Luckily Mum left her coffee here!  (Don't worry, it was empty!)

By the time we left, the Bear's trousers were soaking wet, as were his shoes and socks.  Luckily our winters are so balmy and lovely!  Some of the other Mums were looking a bit annoyed that the Bear was wasting water, and worse, showing their kids some bad habits.  Tough!  He was having fun and not hurting anybody, so splash away, my little water-obsessed son, splash away!

Here's a second copy of that last picture, purely to demonstrate my techno-idiocy. Don't know how I got two up there; certainly don't know how to get rid of one of them!

<>

<>

Finally, a cuddle with Mummy finishes a perfect morning!