things I think about when I have time to think

She arrived 5 years ago , a pink-wrapped bundle with a screwed up stork-bitten red face, and lots of blood and tears. We call her Edie-Beedie-Japanesie-Lemon-Squeezie-oh-so-cheesy , with many variations... She is gorgeous, blonde curly-haired, naughty-faced, and she loooooves animals, especially 'daawgs' (an Aussie twang in there, I think!) .... and here she is at 5, slightly smeared by the raspberry lollipop she has been eating - it's very hard to get a clean-faced pic of our Japanesie! EdeeBee is lucky to share her birthday month with one of her favourite little people, Lukie . So yesterday we gathered as a family, and Edie and Lukie both blew out their candles and stuffed copious quantities of yummy chocolate cake into their mouths. Some of us had tummy aches on the way home. And today, in Karis tradition, Edie ate her dinner from 'the cow plate' . It is a colourful plate/bowl/cup set full of all sorts of funny cows, dressed

It's Bedtime in the Yellow House, and Skyla and I are reading "Nanny Piggins" together.    She is on the cusp of really TRULY enjoying a book , not just begrudgingly as homework. Until now, she has mostly using her book as a prop, holding it  semi-nonchalantly in front of her, while really watching TV over the top of the page.  This is, of course,   staged  to impress the 3 younger siblings who are still in awe of    the magical "grown-up" skill of reading.  So we have a deal:  We share the load . I read one page, she reads the next.  All the reading takes place within a snuggle on the couch .   And just for fun, we both use just a little bit too much expression . Today I had to navigate footnotes.  This was because Nanny Piggins put a footnote at the end of the page I was reading.  The footnote said "not to ever ever, under any circumstances, do what Nanny Piggins was doing at your own home." Nanny Piggins was throwing household furniture off the

This evening I am in a parenting fog . I quite honestly feel as though I am losing my way. It's scary and it's nauseating, and it feels beyond my control. Which is the worst part. So much of who I am as a mother has been consciously decided. Many of the decisions have been spontaneous, but almost all of them have been conscious. I have chosen to parent and mother the way that I do. And it's just in a moment, that it all comes crashing down.  My carefully constructed little-stick-house does not stand up to the force of the big-bad-wolf, and I am falling, arms and legs flailing, into the blackness of a parental abyss. Which is where I am today, right now. My beautiful, strong-spirited 11 yo eldest daughter has entered a watershed time in her life. She is growing and changing, and finding both her feet and her voice. There are big choices to be made, every day, each moment. And she and I are butting heads. My niggling concern is that maybe I have been m

.... so I was just blogging about floppy bladders.    Got sent this clip today. This seems to be my week for patients with floppy bladders and high blood glucoses.   And now a movie star who appears to have a "big old floppy bladder" too.  Maybe even hyperglycaemia? High blood glucose is a common cause of polyuria..., which then lends a sociably acceptable excuse to this unfortunate peeing incident.   Watch this if you have a moment, it's actually quite funny, especially the part where the newsreader loses all control :) -----

I'm at work, waging war on a couple of stubbornly high blood glucoses. Patient problems always unfold in multiples. Tonight it is sugars that aren't responding nicely enough to insulin. Last week it was neck haematomas. Unlikely coincidence of 3 in a row. Writing up my patient notes at the nurses' station, I overhear their change-of-shift handover. One of the nurses is commenting on her patient's more-than-expected urine output. "He's passing large volumes of 600ml every hour or so." She pauses. "But I'm not concerned... I think he just has a big old floppy bladder. " (Nursing-speak, I love it!)   Seven heads nod in tacit understanding. And they move on to the next patient. My husband texts me to say that he and the kids have just finished watching the Friday-night-family-movie. It was a documentary on William and Kate. All six of them, little bottoms squashed onto our 2-seater couch.  But minus me, which brings a sharp pang of

There is a song I sing with my 2yo. His song.   I started off singing it to him as a newborn, a random song of soothing. Now we sing it together, and it's a connection he knows is just his. They each have their own song, these 5 little people of ours. Mostly chosen in just a moment. And yet over the years they've stuck. Sometimes we sing a medley, our home-grown collection of 5 Karis songs. We all know the words, from 2yo to 11yo, and everyone joins in.  There is collective identity in these songs.   It is the deep-seated contentment of belonging to a family medley ,.. But there is also the shy sweet smile that flickers the face of each child as their unique song is sung.  A moment in the spotlight ... while the whole family is cheering.

Apparently I am rather good at being Robin to my 7yo's Batman. This is on wii. Where else? "Mum, you figured it out quite easily. Ac-shuly I was really surprised." Who knew? I was just pushing random buttons as fast as I could. What else could an ignorant Mum do? ...and I think that's the trick.  Sometimes,  most times,  parenting is by-the-seat-of-my-pants .  Connecting with my kids is being in the moment ,  not thinking it through,  not trying to understand all the rules first,  just being.  Like picking up the wii remote and playing. I don't tell my son that my exceptional performance can probably not be repeated.  Because I had no idea what I was "Ac-shully " doing. Why spoil the hero status I seem to have,  for once,  so effortlessly achieved.

Someone has left an old suitcase on the nature strip outside our house. Driving home this afternoon, my 3 just-picked-up-from-school kids in the car, the suitcase looms into view as we arrive home at "the little yellow house". The comments of my 7yo, my 8yo and my 11yo "Mum, did you see that old suitcase there?" "Who would leave an old suitcase outside the yellow house?" "Maybe there's something in it?" The long pause.  I know they are all remembering the clip from an old Leon Schuster movie we watched as a family some time back.  Everyone steps wide of the suitcase as they pile out of the car and through the sidegate. All eyes on it, but no one ventures near. The clip must have left an impression. I think that suitcase may stay there for quite some time.

.... marvelling at my sleeping-soundly 2yo who has, yet again, somehow smuggled his big-as-himself black plastic motorbike into his cot. .... snuggling with my 8yo, engrossed in a deep-and-meaningful discussion about gracefully giving a friend space   so she will not feel 'owned'. .... keeping a straight-face as my frowning 4yo asks which moose had to be killed   to make her chocolate mousse. .... intentionally jumping when my 7yo 'surprises' me with his well-practised 'sneak-up-on-Mum-and attack-her-from-behind'   trick. .... indulging my 11yo with some  concerned-mum attention  for a recurring "sore head" which routinely appears at bed-time.

 Today we did Ikea . And for all of you who've been-there-done-that, you will appreciate me giving it a paragraph of its own.   Ikea is not for lightweights.  In fact, hard-core Ikea-ists, as I admittedly am, schedule in a whole day for the experience. Of course that's not including the days spent before poring over the catalogue, measuring every dimension of available space in the house, consulting the on-line stock status,  the budget,  the husband.... and then the days thereafter spent assembling (which I concede to delegating) and re-organising everything into our newly-acquired Ikea "space'. Needless to say, I am fluent in Ikea-ese . A language of it's own. Which is a good thing, seeing as we outgrew our "little yellow house" 3 children ago. Ikea has solved many of our problems. And today, my wonderful hunk-of-a-man-that-I-married, took off an entire day to help me navigate the experience.  For James, t