sharks and rays.

1. Starting off with smaller rays. 
2. Shark + really, really big ray. Impossible to photograph as it spent most of it's time at the bottom. It's around 2x3m and weighs 300kgs. 
3. They're kinda like a cross between elephants and dogs, really.
4. It felt weird feeling them because you could feel them chewing on the peg- like there's a hard beak in their funny little mouth.

5. A ray got cranky at us for just sitting there not feeding him so he started splashing us. 
6. The rays were a lot pushier about being fed. The shark's didn't have a chance. 
7. The rays felt like.... a slimy tounge.
8. Willow preferred feeding them to patting them, although she patted a fair few. 

9. Big ray again.
10. This photo of Willow trying to get the bait on her stick kills me everytime.
11. You could pay extra to go in the water and Willow really, really wanted that. Especially when she saw that you could sit on the steps and get the really big ray to come up onto your lap. She kept trying to stick that foot in the water, hoping a ray would swim onto it/ eat it. A few nearly did.
12. Sulking sharks. 

13 & 14. I don't know any other creative way to say "We fed a lot of rays." But it was fun and all these photos are a reflection of that.
15. A shark briefly came and snuggled in my hand.
16. Hey, little guy.
17. Willow, playing it cool.

M suggested we should go to Nelson Bay for a little holiday, because he's awesome, and we took Willow to the Oz Shark and Ray Centre because we're awesome parents like that.

I asked Willow a few days beforehand how she felt about feeding sharks, and she got all excited and began speculating on what we could feed sharks- in the end, she suggested "all the spiders in the world!"

Then Jaws 2 was on tv and I was all "hey, you know what? This will be an excellent show to watch!"

Fail.

Willow started to get worried, so M cheerfully told her "those are the sharks we're going to feed tomorrow!"

And her little face dropped.

"I don't WANT to feed the shark's anymore!" Willow wailed. "Because then I'll never see poh poh or pa pa or Zack or Aunty Sharon never ever again!"

We tried changing the channel but she complained and wanted to keep watching Jaws, so we did. M tried to explain to Willow that the shark in Jaws was fake, and I tried to explain to her that shark's had a misplaced reputation and silly ignorant people thought of them as evil, ruthless killers, but they weren't. They just looked scary because of their sharp teeth. And yes ok, they ate other things, but so did we- we also ate fish, and we ate chickens and cows, and birds ate worms and other birds- a lot of animals ate other animals to survive. And that's the way it goes. & I hope you won't exclude someone or something just because everyone tells you there is something wrong with them Willow. Because it's not very nice to the person being left out.
I don't know which message got through, if any, but the next day she was excited again to be going.

Exactly.

After feeding the shark's and rays we had lunch (heavenly salmon with asparagus and mash for me, overlooking the bay; massive delicious schnitzel for M, and a bit of both of ours for Willow). We checked into our friendly hotel and I discovered that Willow can recognize the trip adviser owl logo from a distance- she knows it as the owl on pa pa's jacket. Fishing, dinner, bed. Then more markets and more fishing the next day. And that was that. :)

on frustration.

Totally unrelated to anything in the post, except this was cute- M was cooking on the BBQ outside the door, and Willow was cooking at her pretend BBQ inside. Sometimes, I really, really need to remember the cute stuff.

(So, this is a post written in a bad mood, so don't leap to conclusions that I'm cracking up or anything. But it's also written because it's a slice of what my life is like rightnow, and since I live with a three year old in a dunp of a town, I get frustrated. Normally I try to share the nicer slices of life on this blog, but for the sake of accuracy and keeping it real, sometimes I get really, really frustrated with Willow and other stuff. Monday I'll post charming photos of our trip to Nelson Bay and the three of us feeding sharks and rays. Promise.)

Three year olds are really, really big on contradiction. Within the past hour as I cooked dinner (a new dish that required a degree of multi-tasking, concentration AND A HOT WOK SPITTING MUSTARD SEEDS EVERYWHERE WHY DIDN'T THE RECIPE SAY "Ok, dry fry the cashews. Then, let the saucepan COOL DOWN before you add the mustard seeds, otherwise they'll EXPLODE like fireworks"), Willow has whinged that she's not hungry, she's hungry, she's not hungry, she just wants milk in a cup with a straw, mum, get me my milk already, no I'm not HUNGRY I DON'T WAAAAANT DINNER. IT'S TOO SPICY I DON'T LIKE IT. I'M NOT HUNGRY. I JUST WANT MILK.

Another example.
"I don't want to go outside. I want to go outside. NOW. I want to ride my scooter. I don't want to ride my scooter. NO DON'T PUT IT AWAY I WANT TO RIDE IT. I want to take one guinea pig out and play with him in my room. I want Mr Leda. I DON'T WANT MR LEDA I WANT MR FRODO."

Another example.
Big W has surprisingly nice bits of fabric in the craft area. Seriously- they have a lot of Robert Kaufman and other "better than you get at Spotlight" brands/ designers. (No Amy Butler yet, sadly.) Last time I went there they had Dr Seuss fabrics in among all the Little House on the Prairie florals. Anyways, last time we were there, Willow picked up three fabrics and asked me to make her a skirt. Since they were actually quite nice (unlike the hot pink star one that she wanted me to turn into a skirt) I agreed. She carried the three fabrics all through the store, we paid for them, we took them home, I let her select other fabrics to blend in, I sewed until midnight then spent the next day sewing so it was all ready and waiting for her when she got home from childcare.
Then she got whiny and annoying because her skirt didn't have any stars in it.

I sent Willow to her room  shortly after dinner, because she wasn't sitting properly and she knocked over her water. Just like I warned her would happen. Then I lay on the couch and tried to calm down. Then Willow stuck her head out of her bedroom and was all "Mummy, your washing machine is beeping. Hang out the washing."
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh.

Sometimes adding to the frustration is life in Smalltown. There at lots of really nice things about living here. But there are lots of shitty things too. Like, I found drugs at the playground, so another mother buried them in the sand pit since she had no idea what to do with them. Weirdly, I forgot all about it until yesterday, because hey, that's why life in Small Town does to you- you get all "Drugs in the playground? I guess it could be worse. Meh."

Then there's Other Parents Who Are Weirdly Hostile. My neighbor insists on keeping to herself, which is fine and all. I mean, it's her right to privacy and what not. It just really, really bothers me because Willow will knock on her door, calling for her son who we just saw peering out the window at us a minute earlier, asking if he wants to play with her- and she won't answer the door. Willow's played with her son exactly once, when she was out washing her car, and Willow behaved beautifully. So it's not Willow's behavior. Is it me? Do I have BO? Why do you refuse to let your son play with Willow? We're neighbors, after all, and he had a wonderful time with her last time.
There's a lady who lives around the corner with a son. Sometimes when we walk past he runs to the front door and says hello to us and chats to Willow. Then his mum notices and screams at him to get away from the door. So he does.
There's another house with three girls- two older than Willow, and one the same age. We were walking past and they rushed to the gate to chat to us. They asked if Willow could come in and play with them, and I said yes, if their mother said she could. They ran off to ask their mother, who apparently said yes. I went inside the front gate and then lingered awkwardly. The mother didn't come out to great me or anything- I could see her chatting to a friend- so I wasn't going to start walking around her yard without meeting her. So I awkwardly waited.... and waited... and waited. Eventually she walked up to me. I smiled, said hi, introduced myself and Willow, to which she said "I don't normally make a habit of inviting people in off the street," and walked off.

Willow doesn't understand why she can't go to people's houses to play. They are near us, so we walk past them a bit. She gets on really well with the other kids- she plays well, and makes a huge effort to behave perfectly. She begs and begs, and what can I tell her? I tell her we're not invited, and she asks why. I try saying they're not home, but she sees that their car is there. I saw they're away, or sleeping, or working, or at school...

So that's that. Happily, Willow has made friends at childcare- I think Dakota with the pretty dark hair is her best friend now. Or maybe Dakota is the only girl there whose name Willow knows? I don't know. But I often see them reading books together or dancing to Psy together.

balancing act

Last year M told me my new green jacket looked like a pool table. 15 months later, and I'm yet to ever wear it.

So when he said something in passing, while putting together a blog post, about how I'm trying to make it look like a perfect magazine life, I stopped blogging while I thought it out. Also, I found myself busy with life, and it was nice- freeing- to release those memories into the wild without having a record of it all.

On the other hand, Willow told her first joke about two months ago and I've already forgotten it. If I was really pretentious and twee, I'd throw something out there about the lightness and weight of being... but I'm not.

Willow's suddenly Grown Up these past two months. She's more and more her own person, with her own opinions, with her own twist on things.

The other night M started playing The Last of Us. Willow wandered by and casually asked M "Why are you strangling those people?"
"I'm not Willow," M replied. "They're just going to sleep."
"No they're not. They're strangled."
"Sleeping."
"Strangled."
"They're sleeping, Willow."
"They're not! They're strangled!"
"Sleeping!"
"Strangled."
They had this argument every single time that M strangled someone in-game, until M just gave up and put Peppa Pig on for her.

My camera phone got all scratched up, so I don't get very good photos off that anymore :( I think next time I might join M and get an iphone for no reason other than it's easy to get cases for them. M and I have looked and looked for a case for my HTC with zero luck. But iphone cases? Well, there's this one, and this one, and this Florance Broadhust one, and this Cath Kidson one....

M is at work and Willow is at pre school. It's wonderful. A whole day- well, until 3:15pm, where the whole empty (rainy) day stretches out wonderfully in front of me.... mostly when I get days like this I seem to end up cleaning. M and I have very different ways of cleaning. Or rather, M (and Willow, for that matter) just make sure things look neat, normally by dumping everything somewhere else. I tend to be messier, as I don't make things neat, but I'm cleaner- I dust, and I file things away (instead of dumping the paperwork somewhere) or hang the clothes up (instead of dumping things in the wardrobe). It makes me forever to dust, clean, file, hang up, sort, put away, rearrange the house, clean under the beds and sofa, but I think it's totally worth it in the end. We've all agreed to disagree.

Speaking of cleaning... if Willow doesn't clean up, it gets thrown out. Well, op shopped. Although sometimes I tell her (if she doesn't see me pick everything up) that Santa's elves came and gave her toys to someone who would properly care for them. The upside is that the house wonderfully clutter free. The downside is that I've come to realise that I'm more attached to some of her toys then she is so I save them- like Esme the doll, an old dog of mine that she likes, and her tonka trucks that I got at a garage sale for less than $10 each. The quality of them is so much better than the newer ones- It's like the newer they are, the more plastic they are. My only regret is that I didn't get more from that garage sale- I got a digger and a fire truck, but they also had a few dump trucks in various (large) sizes. At the time I quite logically thought "Well, we really don't have room for a dump truck big enough for Willow to sit in, and we already have a small dump truck." I should have found room. 

Sometimes the toys come back, and Willow gets super excited about that. I don't know if there is a wrong way or right way to do this. Maybe I'm scarring her for life. Or maybe this is an effective method of teaching her to value her stuff, and to clean up- mostly to clean up. Should I be teaching her to value her toys? I mean, maybe I should be teaching her to not value materialistic things? Yikes. M and I discuss how to parent Willow more than anything else. We have similar destination in mind- happy, content, able to support herself and a family, true to herself- it's just we disagree on the route, and neither of us have a map.

A few months ago we were swimming in laptops. Then two of them broke, which left us with one, and neither of us are good with sharing. Since one of the two that broke is mine... down when a lot of photos waiting to be uploaded. So boo. Here, admire some old (singlet and nappy clearly indicates it wasn't winter when these were taken) photos of Willow instead.

Like I said, these are from early autumn. Since then Willow's been toilet trained, and it's gotten heaps colder, and I've put a rug down in the living room.

We got the wood for free from Master's, as it was an off cut. Willow really loves balancing. She normally pretends she's balancing over the water, and there are sharks waiting to get her.

When we walk home from childcare, she always has to balance on the curb when we walk home. Always.

1228 days of Willow.

Confession: I have a preference for using business year calendars over the traditional Jan-Dec calendars. It just makes so much sense. December I'm always hell busy and looking towards the next year- so it makes sense to still be halfway through a calendar then. July? July is a much more boring time of year. It's also the most depressing month. Like, autumn is cold but you still have pretty leaves on the tree. Then you don't, but you're enjoying the cold weather and all that you can do with it. I don't even mind the shorter days. I'm busy trying to ward off the seasonal flu and keeping all my delicate plants alive- just the sweet basil and lime basil, to be honest.

 Now we're all past that- and for what? I'm planted all my spring bulbs but nothing is happening. The bare trees are bare and dull. Despite winter being more than half way over, my basil is dying despite me begging it to just hang on a little bit longer. We all have a right royal case of cabin fever.

Like so many other people, July seemed impossibly-far-ages away back in March. And yet, here we are. Just like mothering a small child seemed impossibly far away when said small child was still a toddler. 

Willow is delightful and hilarious. She's still requesting an older brother, but now she's updated her request to suggest that maybe we can find one at Woolies. She also has become a big fat liar, which is something I'm probably not supposed to write about as lying is wrong and we tell her so, but lying is also a perfectly normal developmental social stage and all that, so I'm not overly panicky that my precious little princess lies more than a politician in an election year. & you know what? Sometimes, her untruths are actually quite good. For example, we just had this exchange earlier today:

"Mummy, why is my room all messy again?"

"Because you messed it up," I patiently reply, while writing a mental note to myself to do a cull of her possessions again.

"I didn't. All the toys just fell off the shelves," Willow indigently replied. 

 Sometimes Willow is considerably less than delightful and hilarious. Sometimes, there's no other way to put it, but she's a little you-know-what. Sometimes she'll cry and make a big fuss over nothing- like the toilet paper has roses instead of tulip flowers AND I WANT FLOWERS!!!- and I can't resolve it, and it's all I can do to not push her down the toilet and flush her away. Other times she'll make a fuss over nothing- I don't want TUNA. I want TUNA ON NOODLES!!!- and in the end I give in, because I'm a human and I have limits, and then she's crying because she doesn't want tuna at all/ she wants toast instead/ she's not hungry and aaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrragh. 

So that's that. We've also had a staycation in Nelson Bay which was wonderful. Expect more on that later. I return to uni in August, which is wonderful. Initially: stuff. I started trying to explain it all, but it's really long and complicated and you really don't care. Just know that I decided to think outside of the box and I'm now doing one second year subject, and one third year subject. Then next year in semester one, I'll be doing first year subjects again, which should be a breeze since I technically passed one already, and I completed the Advanced version of the other one. And I'm really happy because I thought I couldn't go to uni this semester, and I'd be stuck doing lame subjects I'd already done next year but HAPPINESS. I found subjects I can do this year and it's changed my whole outlook and I'm happy because the day that they're on is when Willow is at childcare and I found a babysitter who offered to do it for nothing and YAY. Suddenly life is fun and exciting, and I'm pumped about uni, instead of feeling trapped and woeful. In the meantime, please refrain from asking me what year of uni I'm in, because I rightfully don't know. 

Willow says...

I love you Willow.
I love rides mummy.

Willow says...

"This is ham. Do you know where ham comes from?"
"Elephants."
"Um. Close enough."
"Spiders?"

and in the beginning...

Ages ago I posted a house tour. While sorting out stuff, M and I found these old photos from when we first moved in and started getting furniture....

Clearly, this was taken before we hung curtains. Fabric pinned over the window? So classy.

I remember M sending me this photo very fondly. I was in Sydney at the time, and our new couch had arrived early. I kid you not, for about two, maybe three months, we had no furniture except my desk, the bed and the tv, which sums up our life pretty much. We watched tv on an airbed on the floor and felt so sophisticated when we went to Kmart and got a cheap entertainment unit. All our books lived piled up along one wall. Then my parents and Willow came to visit, so we rushed out and got a bookcase and some tables and chairs. Then we got more shelving, and a rug, and we made this place our home. The end.

(Not really. We're talking about upgrading our dining table to one more suitable to tall people like us.)

Willow says...

Willow: that's not a car. That's a toyota! And that's a land drover!

life in motion.

I've tried several different ways of starting this post, but deleted them all. I've been in Sydney for a few days. Now I'm home for two days, and then we are off to M's hometown. Then two more days at home, and my parent's arrive.

Whew.

I feel like we're constantly in motion. Walking, running, on a train, in a taxi, driving in a car. Chasing trains and people and memories. Willow is growing and changing and racing towards being a big girl, but then running back to me and saying she doesn't want to be a big girl any more. But that happens less and less. She is proud of being a big girl now and wearing big girl undies. If you're lucky, she'll even lift up her skirt in a crowded fancy restaurant and show you. I have so many posts to write and pictures to share. But in short- Willow and I trained down to Sydney. It was magnificent. I gave Mel her birthday gifts. I love giving, much more then receiving. Mel gave Willow a gift- her first Lego. We went to the Pregnancy, Children's and Parent's expo, and it was lovely. There were goats to feed, sheep to pat, Elmo and Cookie Monster to meet and greet, and lots and lots and lots of stalls to see. I didn't mange to see them all. We got a new stroller. Something else to post about later, but it's a life changer.

M drove down and we caught a train into Circular Quay to check out Vivid. Indescribable. Despite the rain, and being cold and wet, we were all transfixed by the various light installations all around. More on that later.

And now? Willow's been going to childcare. Twice a week. I have photos of her to show off, and photos of her artwork. But all that comes later, once tummies are full of food, our furry and fluffy friends are fed and watered and cleaned, and mountains of washing are done... but normally when that happens I find myself reading a book or sewing instead of getting on the laptop. But stick with me, just a little while longer, and I'll get there. Eventually. Once we stop always being in motion....

Willow says...

willow, do you want to help me pick up these toys?
no you do it. I'm going to watch tv now.

Mother's day.

A photo by the little miss from my phone. I think it turned out very well.

We celebrated Mother's day on Monday since M was working the weekend. M was going to make pancakes for breakfast, but woke that morning to find I had used up the last of the eggs to make a cauliflower pizza base. D'oh. M then took Willow out for the day to Newcastle, as he had something to pick up. While he was out I worked on the patchwork blanket for Mel's birthday, and managed to nearly finish off the top.

Two parcels arrived- a Motex embossed label maker, and a book, which made the day feel pretty special. Then M arrived home with special gift for me, plus more trucks for Willow, and 300 photos from Willow's first year that I put in to be printed last week. Oh, tiny baby. Where have you gone?

We lounged around the played with the trucks, then Todd came over. Willow was delighted. Children love Todd, and Willow is no exception. We went to dinner at the pub at the end of our street, and M won some money and I won the fruit and veggie tray.

So that was my mother's day. A lucky day.

Good, Bad, Ugly.

Good:

•  Pantry overhaul. M admitted that somehow seeing all our nuts and what not in pretty glass jars makes them look more interesting- like being in a lolly shop.
• I got myself this for mother's day.Why yes, I do have a label maker already, but it's a boring, office style label maker from Big W. This one is much cooler.
• Season Three of Game of Thrones. Isn't it amazing? I'm practically dribbling at the mouth for the Red Wedding. THAT'S TOTALLY HAPPENING THIS SEASON RIGHT? Also, I can't wait to find out how it all ends. There are so many fantastic characters, and they're all so very different. Plus, the detail that's gone into all the different worlds and cultures? Mmm. M, however, still finds himself hopelessly lost with the huge cast of characters, and lack of a clearly defined bad guy ("What? There's FIVE sides? Which ones are the bad guys?" "Errr, none of them. They all hate each other...")
• Willow's been sleeping well.  Except for the bit when she got up at around 6:30am the other morning because we forgot to close her blinds, but really. 9am is the new 10am.
• It's been getting colder, which is nice. It means we can spend more time outdoors.
• Willow's mostly mastered toilet training. She's been doing pretty well at home with it, and ok-ish when we're out. Reminding her that no one wants to be her friend if she pees her pants in public is excellent motivation for her to stop playing and get up to use the toilet.

Bad:

• Willow peed on a shop floor. I hissed at her to go into the change room and take all her clothes off, hoping that I could mop it all up and flee, but somehow on her way in, the curtain fell down on her. Arrrragh. So no mopping it up and fleeing. Shameful confessions instead.
• Remember the "pantry overhaul" I mentioned before? I've been doing a house over haul and clearing out a lot of stuff. It just means everything's been really messy and chaotic lately. Unless you've been to our house, you don't realise how small it really is, and how something as simple as an extra full box around the house can mean chaos and annoyance.
• Also, it's weird. I thought M and I were careful with what we purchased, baring in mind that we live in a tiny house and we're planning on moving once we save up. We still have a surprising amount of unwanted stuff. Clothes that don't fit us, kitchen stuff we don't use- a lot were gifts, or came in multi packs ie it was cheaper to buy six assorted wooden spoons in a bag then the two we really needed.
• It's been getting colder. Willow's favorite place to hang out is the beach, which is one of the worst places to go when it's winter.

Ugly

• You know what? There's nothing ugly happening in my life right now.

Maitland Gaol

We went to Maitland Gaol on a whim. Actually I lie, we went to Maitland Gaol because we drove past it, and we've been watching a LOT of the Walking Dead, and it seemed like a good idea to check out our local gaol, just in case. Because you and I know that M, Willow and myself are totally going to survive the initial outbreak and we're going to need a safe place to live later on.

In this scenario, the zombie Apocalypse will be caused by artificial chemicals in food- maybe the world's supply of chicken meat could become contaminated? But realistically, I know the zombie plague will be an airborne bacteria, not a virus transmitted by a bite. I mean, come on. If it's supposed to be contagious and destroy civilisation, then it's gotta be airborne.

Willow is obsessed with a zombie book a friend gave us called "That's not your Mummy anymore." Sometimes she will stick up both her hands and pretend to be a zombie.

When we last visited M's family, Willow kept insisting there was a zombie in one of the rooms. Weirdly, it was the room that M's grandfather stayed in before he died, so we wondered if she was seeing a ghost. When I asked her for a description, she said "blue suit, white shirt, hat." The next day she said "sparkly and spiky.

In non zombie news- Willow's skirt. I made it. Here it is, before I put elastic in. Willow loves the hearts and bunnies best. Also, Maitland Gaol is lovely. Go there. Willow loved the grass, and the cage out the front (really an englarged gate.) She insisted it was a bird cage.

stay forever.

So here's the thing that I'm really confused about at the moment. Well, one of the few things.

Skywhale, complete with large mammary glands, floating over our nations capital. I don't quite understand this either. Source.

I try hard to limit screen time, both for Willow and myself.
I also try to not say/ post anything really stupid online, stuff that can come back to haunt me.
I finally got some thank you cards posted off, and tomorrow I really will finish off those letters I owe everyone.
I have two weeks to make Mel a quilt for her birthday. Also, it's super long, since Mel and her partner are super tall.
We went to visit M's family for nearly a week, and we went to Sydney again for nearly a week, and I haven't mentioned any of that on my blog.
I'm going to Sydney in two weeks. Or next week. It all depends on Mark's roster. 
We still haven't fixed the light in Willow's room.
I don't really know where I'm going with this blog these days.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this blog because the words aren't coming. Or they come, a little bit here, a little bit there. I feel like I'm faffing most of the time, writing badly, writing words I really don't want to read again or enjoy. But I started writing in Willow's voice.... and then I lost that and started in mine. Things were good for a while, and then that fell away. I don't think it's waning interest, since I've blogged since 2003, making it one of my longest running hobbies. And man, it's awkward blogging sometimes because I've changed so much. I've grown so much. I've tried on so many persona's and styles, trying to find the one that fits me... and now, I'm still tentatively still working on being cool myself.

I'm a winger. I make a lot of things up as I go, because whenever I make plans, my life takes rather drastic turns. For example, two years ago, when Willow's father and I spilt, my plan was to study nursing, graduate, while saving up for a small house for the two of us. I couldn't see myself in a serious relationship with anyone until after I graduated. I couldn't afford to live in Darwin, nor could I find a rental... so I started looking at other places in Australia. Other cheaper places. I started looking at universities with rural campus's- the ones you don't need a high Tertiary Entrance Rank (TER, also known as ATAR) for. I never really considered myself very smart. A bluffer, and a show off, yes. But not mentally agile and gifted.

I've always wanted to live in Sydney. Around this time, M called me up out of the blue and we started talking on the phone. He mentioned Newcastle- the nearest city to where he was- had a uni. I half looked into it, and figured it was cheaper to live, and an easier uni to get into, then anything in Sydney. I put Newcastle Uni down as my first preference, then the University of Technology second. I think Newcastle Uni's Ourimbah campus was third, and I also applied for University of New England, which was separate.
The day I found out how I went on the mature age entry test was the same day first round preferences was announced. I was easily accepted into Newcastle University. My TER was high enough I could have waited and gone to a university in Sydney... but I didn't. M and I had been talking on the phone for a few months, so I decided to stick with Newcastle and see where things went. You know how this ended.

M and I decided to move in together because we had an unhealthy co-dependant relationship. M would finish a 12 hours shift and then drive two hours to see me. Then he would sleep for a few hours, get up, drive the two hours back to work for another 12 hour shift... If M wasn't driving two hours to see me, doped up on No Doze, I was training all the way out to see him, at Nearly At the End of The Line, text books in tow. Basically, we decided to live together so M didn't fall asleep at the wheel. And it wasn't all romping. We talked a lot, and still do. Like a pair of budgies. While M's at work, we sms each other. When he's home, we're always talking... although now, Willow does most of the talking. Unhealthy co-dependant relationship- we can't go several hours without talking to each other...

So, instead of studying nursing in Newcastle, I'm living in Little Town, and wondering if we're better off if I just get a job rightnow, instead, so we can save up to buy a house quicker. See? I'm bad at making plans. I feel like an engagement or pregnancy announcement is the logical end to this post, since it's all about my inability to plan my future/ funny twists life takes/ how much I adore M/ how we're all in a transition period in so many ways, but nothing like that is happening....

... Well, M did bring me home a big rock. Actually, he brings me home big rocks all the time from work, but this one was special, because it was petrified wood, and I've been begging him to bring home some for ages. M says there is a lot lying around the mines, but nothing in carry home pieces. So, I now have my special big rock and I'm very happy. You can see the bark, and the rings in the wood, and it's just beautiful. Expect photos when I finish setting the garden on fire.

So. Sundayland it now is around here. Because it feels right. And doing what feels right? It's made me insanely happy. I promise to write better, and more, instead of cluttering up my facebook with blabbler about Willow... which is hyprocritical, when you think about how I'm trying to limit screen time, but whatevs.

Promise.

Willow says...

Don't wash my hair!
I have to wash your hair! You're a big girl now.
*grabs colander that we use to store her bath toys, places it on her head.*
Now you cannot wash my hair!

New year goals #26

26. Get Willow a table and chairs of her own.

This was done thanks to M's mother's generosity.

M's mother gave us these wooden vanilla coloured table and chairs. She also said we can repaint them as these have seen their fair wear and tear. I also have a massive cane basket that I got from the markets (from the same guy I got the guinea pigs from, actually) that I've always intended to repaint. But what colour? Anyone? Maybe leaf green for the table and chairs, like the green on the table cloth? Apple red for the basket? Sky blue for the basket? Lime green?

Willow's room is due for a possible reshuffle. While I don't mind the current layout of Willow's room, with my parents coming for a holiday.... we don't have anywhere for them to stay. We have the two bedrooms, then a combined kitchen/ living area. The kitchen/ living area is actually quite spacious, but M gets up at 4am to go to work, so he needs to move through that area and turn on lights.

So, what I'm thinking: I move my study desk into my bedroom (assuming it will fit, it has to) and give Willow the whole room, instead of a tiny two thirds. The downsides means that there will definitely be no more room in our bedroom for Willow's bed, so whoever stays with us, is stuck with her.

I haven't told M this because it's been less than six months since the liquid nails fiasco, and all the stress of our little DIY project from hell. I don't know how this "do you think you could remove that board that you liquid nailed on?" is going to go down. Especially since it will prove I was right all along, and instead of liquid nailing that ply wood down, we should have made it a cupboard door.... Plus, I want to give him time to recover from the whole SUPRISE LOOK I GOT US TWO GUINEA PIGS thing.

Wish me luck. And that the removal of the play goes smoothly.

baptim dress

When Willow was baptised in 2010, I got her a simple cotton dress. Nothing too hot, nothing too fancy. I think it ended up costing me $35 from Tree of Life.

It fits her now, as a regular dress. I'm a little bit torn. Should she wear it now for special occasions? Or should I pack it away, for future maybe babies, who might also be baptised in it? I feel like some things become more special through wear, because by using these "special" items, you can attach memories to them.

Flashback Friday: Willow with friends.

I hate you and I hate play dough.

Play dough is one of those things where you really, really need to KISS- Keep It Simple, Stupid.

Play dough should never be more complex than dough in one colour, and maybe a rolling pin and some cookie cutters.

But for some reason, the makers of the play dough brand keep trying to convince us we need more. We need special desert versions, and special fun packs, and all sort of stupid packs which are LIES for the following reasons:

1. On the packet, you'll see the children on the packet making, say, amazing cupcakes topped with multi coloured sprinkles. LIES. Maybe some uber gifted older children out there make things like that, but it never seems to work out. Plus, if you make the rainbow sprinkles, how are you going to pick them apart again later? Because if you don't, you end up with ugly yucky play dough because all the colours mix together. Next time you see a play dough packet, look at the pictures. Look past how amazing the sets look, and realise that they all involve mixing the colour together.
2. There is only one play dough brand, and it's amazing and non toxic so that's what everyone must buy. Plus it's cheap and easy. LIES. You can make play dough EXACTLY LIKE THAT, EQUALLY KID SAFE, in your own damn kitchen, for even cheaper.
3. Plus, you can go to the op shop and get cookie cutters super cheap. I think we got 50 cutters for... $2? Then someone gave us the exact same set, except brand new.
4. The fancy play dough gadgets take longer to clean than children spend playing with them.

Admittedly, I'm writing this post in a pretty cranky mood. Willow and I just had an argument over play dough, in which she completely refused to tidy it up because she was too tired. LIES. So I said if she didn't pick it up, it would dry up like the last two packets. She shrugged and walked off. FURY RAGE MURDER. So I told her if she left this play dough to dry out, it would be her third tub, her third strike, and she would never get any play dough ever again. And she was all "Ok."
Plus, I jammed my thumb really hard in the extruder while trying to clean the fancy thing out. MORE FURY RAGE MURDER.

I sense another op shop run coming on.

car wash

Willow cleaning the coal dust off Todd's car. Willow adores Todd. When Todd and M return home from work Willow is always super excited to rush out to greet them.