Sleepover!

Nothing screams School Holidays more than a sleepover. Don't you think? Tonight it was my niece and nephew, Dante and Tess. The one and only victims of our sleepovers. I still feel we're all a little young to do 'outside of the family' sleepovers.

They scare me.

After many hours spent on the trampoline, creating quite amazing games actually, it was inside for tea. This time - Tessa's favourite. Mashed potato and meat pie. It turns out, Dante doesn't like mashed potato, so I've promised chips next time.

Chips fixes everything.

I added salad to the meal for my benefit. Do you know it's going to be sunny and warm next week? Time to get rid of the extra 'padding' I acquired to get me through the winter.

Then we assembled the beds, and the kids watched a movie. "Cloudy with a chance of meatballs" to be exact, thanks to my brother in law, Ben, who made an emergency trip to the DVD shop for me.

Didn't they used to have home delivered movies? That was cool.

 Of course, what's a sleepover without rough housing on the beds!

Earlier in the day, Tilly and I did some 'craft'. Aren't I just the school holidays mum of the year...

Aren't I?

On today's list was mini cake bunting.... I am planning my sisters baby shower which will be in December and am trialling a few ideas to include in the day. This is one of them.

Makes a very cute little cake topper....I haven't quite mastered it, but for a first attempt - it's not bad!

I'm not a real crafty mum. I just pretend.

Earlier in the day, before the sleepover commenced, Tilly and Darcy decorated the backyard for me. Pegs on the lemon tree was the biggest hit.

Apparently.

Darcy has promised me he'll remove them before, well, Christmas. Because otherwise Father Christmas might mistake the lemon tree, decorated with pegs, plastic pegs, for the Christmas Tree. And leave all the presents outside.

And to think, all these years I could have decorated our tree with pegs and the kids would have thought it was, well, Christmas.

Don't you honestly just love that about kids?

Later in the day, when the big kids were playing big kids games. Tilly came inside as a pig. I'm not kidding. She just kept snorting and snuffling at me. It looked a little something like this.

 Isn't she beautiful?

And as they lay watching movies and falling asleep in the loungeroom, in pure, sleepover bliss. I indulged myself with a pile of catalogues and bit of ABC Tv. 

I'm not being funny. I love catalogue day. I save it up for quiet moments like these!

 Shut up.

And just to end off this post, a picture of mine, Jenny's and my sister, Sarah's kids. This was taken on Tuesday when we all trekked down to Normanville for the day. In sights were sandy beaches, long walks, sandcastles and a trip to the reservoir.

In reality it was rain, $18.50 fish and chips, and Jenny, Sarah and I huddled under a gazebo whilst the kids played on a ramp. Funnily enough though, and again it's why I just love kids, they had the best time ever. Playing. On a ramp. But it had high, sloped and muddy sides, and hidey holes underneath. It was kid heaven and a muddy bum. 

I love school holidays x

We are your friends.

Ahhh friends. What we do without them. Honestly.

A whole lot of nothing, that's what.

Who would we be stupid with. Who would feel sorry for us - or laugh in our faces when our complaints were unfounded and silly?

Probably your husband, your sister and your mum. But that's not what we want for this post.

This weekend was spent talking, laughing and enjoying a few drinks, accompanied by some well awaited sunshine, and good, lifelong friends.

 It began on Saturday when I invited myself to Jenny's. I've known Jenny since I was about five. Our parents met a church and we soon became regular visitors at their house. So, we essentially grew up together. She's my family.

Shit fights and brother teasing and all!

This weekend, I subtly invited myself over in a 'Hey who are you watching the Grand final with? No one? Oh cool, can I come over and watch it' type of way to watch the Grand Final. The Grand Final is something I always feel the need to watch, regardless of which team is playing. I like a game of football and the Grand Final brings with it a certain level of excitement which can only mean I am one step away from growing some balls and scratching them in public. It brings out my masculine side and I can be seen yelling at the tv, drinking beer and eating lots of chips. Jenny brought to the table pizza. Aren't we just the stereoytpe? Beer, footy, chips and pizza. Love it. My arse however, does not.

Which was witnessed this weekend by Jenny. And she still loves me. Even though I made lots of rude jokes.

It seems as though Australia has forgotten how to deliver a result in this 2010 and the game ended in a draw. Unfortunately Australia is not discrete in trying to raise revenue from such large events and instead of adding time on or some penalty shoot out to settle the game, we just do it all again. Next week. One whole week later. Again. Lame.

So I won't back my balls away just yet.

Today I trekked down the hill to spend the afternoon with another friend, Heidi.

I met Heidi when we both pregnant with our first borns. Since then we've been through highs and lows together. The kind of highs that have you feeling like life can't get any better, and the kind of lows that when you come out the other side, you realise you can't live those things together and not have a connection forever. 

Even if she is a Crows supporter.

And I love seeing our kids grow up together, and can only hope it's the beginning of a friendship like I have with Jenny. Life long and family.

Today was her little girls second birthday party which had great food and a jumpy castle to boot!

Heidi attacked several children

And licked my face. 

I have a yellow tooth.

Darcy hit Jazz in the leg. With his face.

And Tilly ate like a true champion. 

It was definitely a Heidi style party! And that's why they are so much fun!

Isn't it just amazing how much energy and happiness there is in the world when the sun is shining? Love it.

What did you do today?

I had a fairly run of the mill kind of day which went a little bit like this:

7.00am

Breakfast

Tilly was a bit upset when she spilled her egg guts on the table...so another egg was made

7.30am

Tilly spies on Darcy in the shower while I start the washing and iron Darcy's uniform.

I didn't manage to get Tilly in the shower...I was weak and gave in to that argument.

 

8.00am Stop by fairyland and water my garden...spot a Golden Dragon worth three diamonds.

Diamonds are important. Important.

8.30am - Giant tantrum performed by Tilly for reasons of great importance to a three year old.
I only peeled one mandarin. Not two. One.

I am an evil bitch like that.

8.37am - Wave Darcy off to school. Kisses and hugs included.

8.38am - Open up the house for the grocery delivery man to cart my shopping, ordered online, onto my kitchen table.

Do you know how incredibly lucky I feel that I live in an age where I can do grocery shopping online?

11.15am - Chat to Matt and Dave on ABC 89.1 about the billboard featuring me on a major SA road.

I am famous.

 

1.00pm - Eating lunch and watching episodes from season one of Dawson's Creek. Sister being stubborn and not allowing me to photograph her. She said she's hideous. I think she's beautiful.

She has less than one hundred days until she gives life to a baby, what is more beautiful than that?

Watching these old episodes of Dawson't creek, we came to three conclusions:

1. How on earth did the 90's allow us to wear such terrible clothes. 90's fashion? Maybe worse than the 80's.

2. It's creepy that Tom Cruise married Joey, aka Katie Holmes. Free Katie!

3. and most importantly, Dawson was such a moron. Really. We hate him. As my sister said, it should have been called Pacey's Creek. He was way cooler.

5.30pm - After a trip to the shops and visit with Granny, Tilly lounges around waiting for me to finish dinner.

7.00pm - The kids choose a biscuit from the tin before bed. Choc Wheaton for Darcy, Monte Carlo for Tilly.

8.01pm - I watch Glee and blog this post in the ads.

Tomorrow we are out and about all day.

I hope your days are good too :)

My heart might explode.

After tidying the kitchen and tucking in a Tilly, most nights - I come in to the loungeroom to find this

And my heart, it literally swells. I love this about Adam, his patience

And his ability to laugh with Darcy as he learns how to read. 

I love this man. I love this kid.

And when he tucks him into bed at night, and I can hear Darcy in hysterics because Dad is beating him to death with pillows, 

I almost can't take it. I love these boys.

And you'll be happy to know, I can see some sunshine returning to my Darcy. His spark is coming back - and I am happy.

And my goodness, couldn't you just eat him with those specs on???

He said he would still be innocent. He lied.

In the months leading up to Darcy's birthday, we made the decision to get him a scooter. It only took a few years to convince me that he wouldn't launch himself head first over the minuscule front wheel and scrape his face beyond recognition. I had also witnessed with my own eyes that he was more than capable of scooting without causing harm.

So a scooter it was

A little background information. Adam works away in gas land. Anyone who knows Adam would realise how funny it is that he works in the gas industry when he, very unmanly like, has a serious (and I am deadly serious) problem with human gas. By that I mean he is quite unnaturally offended by farts. Bottom burps. He literally can't stand it which means two things. One: We have a no fart policy in this house. I don't fart in from of him (that he is aware of). He doesn't fart in front of me. No farts. Ever. And Two: He has essentially erected a giant fart target on his head when it comes to work colleagues who often 'accidentally' drop the bomb in his presence. 

There is so much wrong about a no fart policy, but believe me - it's another post entirely.

I digress. Adam works in the gas and oil industry and is away from home for periods of time. During his time at work he will often do night shift. Which means a lot of internet surfing free time to use when the plant is running smoothly. During this free time, Adam researched scooters. For weeks. 

He is very busy at work. Very busy.

After much research and comparing of notes with a colleague (who is also very busy) he sent me on a mission to our local toy store to buy a MGP Mad Gear Pro Scooter. When I arrived there, I realised there was a problem. There was a skull on the scooter.

Now, for whatever reason, skull and crossbones has become quite the in thing amongst boys as young as, well in utero. You will find them on just about anything. Clothes, toys, shoes, play equipment. EVERYTHING. And, I have avoided them like the plague. I just can't like them.

Can't like them. Tried. Can't. 

So I have avoided, convinced that by adorning the skull and crossbones logo, my son's very innocence will be sucked from his being and satan himself will breath the life back in. So avoided, I have.

So, in the toy store. I rang Adam.

Me: Adam, I'm standing in front of the scooter. It looks great! But there's a problem. It has a skull on it.

Adam: (silence)

Me: Hello?

Adam: er, is that a problem? 

Me: Well, I just don't like them. I've avoided them till now and, I don't know, Darcy is just so sweet and innocent and I feel like I'm ruining it by giving him a skull.

Adam: Don't worry dear (he may not have said dear), I'm sure one tiny little skull and cross bones logo on an otherwise plain black scooter won't ruin his innocence.

HA! I AM RIGHT! YOU ARE WRONG ADAM "urgh, don't let gas out your arse, so offensive".

Only this time, I kind of wish he was right. 

As of the unveiling of the skull and crossbones last sunday on Darcy's birthday. Innocence out, Demon in. Seriously.

We've gone from this face

To this face

and this...with the evil attitude to match

And Adam even received his first hate mail.

I always thought I would be the first to get hate mail. Luckily with the label there is no mistaking who it's for.

Now I am actually not trying to be funny. But is that the scariest bloody thing (and bloody could be quite literal) you have ever seen a seven year old do? Someone suggested therapy..but people it's me who needs the therapy. This has scared the gas out of me (sorry Adam).

I blame this:

Adam is quite sad and has even agreed with me that maybe it is the skull and crossbones and their subliminal hate message.

Whatever it is.

 Dear Jesus - please  can I have my bright shiny boy back. I miss him. Love me.

Dear Hormones and mother nature - boys don't menstruate, please stop sending PMS symptoms to my son. Thanks in advance, Rach.