The Eyes of a Child...the Soul of a Killer

Q has been rehomed. He was fantastic at what he did, he was an awesome working dog. He heeled perfectly and was fast learning everything there was to know about agility. He was my dream dog when it came to performance...and a nightmare with our beloved cats.

Something had to give and it gave with a bang. I had to think of my family as a whole and the right my cats had to live safely in that family. Q was a killer when it came to a cat being outside. Our cats were not allowed to be outside but I have three children and accidents happen, doors don't close and gates are locked before they are shut, leaving them open.

I have found a great home for my boy. He is living on two acres with no cats and no birds. He has a teenage family to play with, young adults who are responsible and respectful and he will live happily, I know this. It doesn't make it any easier but, as I said, its not fair on my family to expect them to live in fear.

Cin

All the Pretty Horses

After being a parent to a twelve year old girl, I have come to the conclusion that its like breaking a horse in.

You need to focus on the rules and expectations to start with, learning the correct way to do things and correct expectations on behaviour. You can't just gallop through life headfirst and pray you don't hit something. Start by taking quiet steps into the world, stretch your legs after you have stretched your mind and it will all come together.

Caitie is at the stage where we are galloping into puberty and its like trying to hold onto a galloping horse. You need all of your skill to pull those reigns in tight, and then let them slip a bit, pull them in tight and let them slip a bit. At her age there is more tight than slip. Occasionally, we will let the reins go fully and she can have a glorious gallop through freedom from responsibility but we always come back and tighten them up again.

Tony is hopeless at this little game. He wants to keep those reigns tight at all times, directing her constantly through her life, correcting her and pulling her back into line but if you don't relax the reins, how will you know if the lesson is learnt???

With her father, Caitie is in constant battle with him, pulling at those reins and seeing how much give they have. She is literally chaffing at the bit to try and get away with as much as possible. With me, the reins aren't as tight and she gets away with that little bit more. Sometimes she runs with the bit and I have to haul her back in but its not a regular occurence.

I see some of her classmates who haven't got the same respect for their parents that our children do. Twelve year old girls turning up at school wearing more makeup than their mothers do. Thick eyeliner, short skirts and attitudes up the bazooka. It will make for an intersting dynamic next year as Caitie heads for the Teenager Target.

I know Caitie is not as mature as her classmates and I can only hope that my Pretty Pony can handle herself amongst all the Pretty Horses.

Cin

Tea Time

There is a company which has just recently perfected a kettle which makes the perfect cup of tea. My thought was, "Does it also bring the wisdom with it?"

In my house I have a huge old camping kettle. It's enamel and has seen its share of triumphs and tragedies in its day. It came to us through a garage sale and is big and brown and full of personality. It holds around twenty cups of water which is enough for a really long D & M session.

To me, a cup of tea is not just about what you are drinking, whether its green, red, black, oolong, herbal or chai. It's the making of the tea, the process. Our kettle goes on the stove. You have a good fifteen minutes to air your problems or share your joys while waiting for the beast to boil. It doesn't whistle to interupt the conversation, there are no beeps or burrrrs to tell you its time to brew, just a soft, steady stream of steam.

Then there is the making of the tea. Me? White with two and leave the teabag in. Herbal it has to be peppermint, a tea that Aiden really likes as well, two sugars there too. Tony has his medium strong, white with two, Caitie and Conor tend to like weak and milky with one. And give it time to brew. An extra few minutes to think of the right thing to say or offer the right words of sympathy.

A cuppa is all about change as well. As I said before, I like herbal and prefer it to normal black tea. If I drink black tea, it has to be English Breakfast, unless I have a cold and then Earl Grey clears the sinuses. I have recently discovered Rooibos and like it with a dash of vanilla. My dad used to drink his tea white with two, always white with two. Then he and my mum seperated, divorced and he met my lovely stepmum. Now its black with one, she thinks he needs to be healthier. I find that sad, someone dictating your brew.

Tea holds memories, like no other liquid can. My kids all had a cuppa tea in their bottle when they were starting to wean . My day usually starts with my husband handing me my brew, it kick starts my day. Piping hot tea off an open fire was how we always had it when camping as a kid....and then there was that Monday, 9 years ago, in September.

I had changed to a tea called Invigorate, a succelent blend of mint and lemongrass, vanilla and thistle. Aiden was just over one, it had been an awful year for us, I had been diagnosed with Cancer and we had bravely fought and won that battle. On this Monday, I had my tea out on the back stairs and I remember thinking what a beautiful Spring day it was, so very quiet. It never occurred to me that it was too quiet.

I went in to turn on the tv as we normally did and I wondered why they were playing a drama movie at that time of the morning... at that point the first plane flew into the twin towers and our world changed forever. I will never forget that cup of tea, as long as I live.

Tea brings happiness, that hot cup taken while having your makeup done on your wedding day, or anticipation, sipping while waiting to hear news of a new baby. It gives solace when there are no words and also gives those of us who don't know how to grieve something to do. We make the tea, we follow the ritual, we give our offering and the recipient knows that that humble cup holds more than tea, it holds the feelings "I know, I understand, I will be here for you." It builds bridges and creates bonds, it makes a philosopher of us all.

And may it never grow cold....

Cin

How did I get to this????

Ok, I know I've been a little maudlin lately but I had to share something that confuses me.

I was bullied in High School...not just picked on but seriously bullied, I am talking about hit, spat on, had dead reptiles thrown at me, abused and denigrated. I know my tormentors don't remember the hell they put me threw when I consider the amount of them who want to friend me on Facebook. I sit here and think "You called me a useless whore, a bitch, a slut and every other name under the sun. You hurt me physically, emotionally and mentally and NOW you want to be my friend?" Unlike High School I can now choose to delete you from my life!

Thats not what confuses me though. Like most people who had a traumatic upbringing of sorts, I have quite low self esteem. Most people who meet me don't know this, all they see is the quirky, funny woman I have become. However, put me in a room with ten strangers and I will be scratching my nails to the quick trying to get out!

What I don't understand is why so many people seem to like me? And no, before you ask, this isn't my way of asking everyone to come out of the woodwork and sign my blog, telling me how great I am...though that would be nice! Its more a case of meeting people for the first time and having them decide they really like me. I'm not used to it. AND I've been out of high school for many, many years. (twenty but who's counting).

We went to a garage sale the other day and it happened to be around the corner from me and I felt, like I usually do, that I was never going to see these people again so I was my usual weird self. Husband then chose to drop in again on the way to work and the wife mentioned she would love to have a couple of glasses of wine with me just because she loved my sense of humour! I am not used to having that affect on people! I have another friend who is younger than me and sees me as a mother figure...she told me this.

I am not used to being liked and respected, its weird...I'm just me, crazy, quirky, funny, round me!

Cin

Happy? Oh, there you are....

I found my happy...it was in a funny place and took a rainy walk on a sleepy Sunday to bring it home.

We were expecting some really rough, dangerous weather to hit that night and all Monday so, after a week of torrential rain, I took the slightest break in the weather to take the two stircrazy dogs for a walk.

As you know, I have found it hard to interract with them lately, due to the tragedy that unfolded last month. So, I went out in my usual sad state and concentrated on enjoying the break in the weather. The regular pace of my dogs soothed me in a way I hadn't found in a long time, the steady trot lulling me into a peaceful mindest.

At our usual haunt there is a storm culvert in the large open park and it usually has an inch or two of water in it. Due to the recent rain it had a good two foot of still water, no current and the park itself had large open puddles. Once I released the hounds Q and Nell took off like bats out of hell, running in gigantic circles, pouncing on each other and being fools. Q ran through the puddles and grinned like a teenager, his tongue lolling out of a huge smile, jumping in puddles just like a big kid.

And then.... both dogs tried to run across the storm culvert at the exact same time and two dogs sunk like bricks, leaving two black noses just above the water. The turn around time was a fraction of a second and then the water exploded with Q hurtling out and Nell doing her usual washing machine impression of swimming. The look on her face was priceless, she was most indignant and THAT is when I found my happy....deep belly laughs billowed out of me, guffaws shook me and there I was, in the rain, wiping away tears of laughter.

We continued our walk home, with my happy settled next to my heart, two wet dogs and a sense of peace I haven't felt in ages........I found my happy!

The Naughties

We have to deal with alot of customers in our shop, some good, some bad, some really bad but you know that you've finally lost it when the bears begin to revolt!

We have three bears made by Russ, a toy maker that most people have heard of and these three terrors are collectively known as the Naughties. They scale the furniture, they chat up the dolls, they take over the quilts, they try and steal stuff from the jars; they are just plain naughty!

And I have proof!

Scaling the cupboard so they can see.
Thats a honey jar and they HAD to see if there was any left!

A recent rainy day and they huddled under the quilt. The first time I have seen them still...

See, people have the nerve to tell me I'm crazy but I know those bears will be the death of me!

Lost...one happy...if found, please call....

I can't find my happy...I've temporarily lost it. I can't find it.... but I know when I lost it.

One month ago our lives spiralled downhill. For anyone who knows us they know that our animals are our lives. Tony and I breed and show our beloved Devon Rex. Tony had the number 1 Devon in our cat council, a stunning tortie girl called Marble.

We have an automatic door closer that wasn't functioning as well as it could. My male stafford Q had figured out how to open the door and the door then hadn't closed. Marble went outside and sometime during the day she was killed by my dogs. MY dogs...the dogs I had plans to breed and continue my bloodlines.

Tony fell apart, his world was shattered as Marble was his beloved pretty girl. She was a gorgeous typey girl who we had big plans for...and my dogs ended her life. I can't get the image of that out of my mind. Or of Q bringing a small part of her fur to us as his trophy, he was so proud of himself. I had to deal with some of the remains while dealing with my own grief. Everything I knew and loved about my dogs had turned around and bitten me in the butt.

I immediately contacted Q's breeder and asked her to rehome him. Nell was in season and we were mere days away from preparing for a litter of pups but all those plans came to a screeching halt. I couldn't look at my dogs or touch them for three days.

And during this time I fell sick, I fell very,very sick. I had a cold before all of this and all of the stress made it settle on me very heavily. I was heartsick, I was emotionally sick, I was physically sick and I was mentally sick...I was broken.

A month has passed and we have dealt with our emotions and our feelings of loss.I returned to dog training with Q this week. I made the decision to get him desexed and I haven't regretted it. But I have discovered a side effect from all of this stress....I've lost my happy. I've lost the joy of training Q, of working with him and seeing him enjoy working with me. I came home from training last night and wept in my husbands arms.

And, I don't know where to find it or how to get it back.......if you find my happy, can you please let me know?

Little Bears Don't Bounce

Conor has spent a fair amount of time recently falling off, over and through various things, including taking regular dives off the trampoline. I have discovered that when there is no blood and no obvious injury the best cure is a Mummy hug and a hot bubble bath....

He obviously has NO brain injuries to speak of....*sigh*

Broken

Yes, I know my last post was about how Superhuman I am, how I can take this mans world and rock it blah blah blah but....after two days of solid working my arse off, I broke.

We moved the houselot on Tuesday and I worked at my regularly job as a dog groomer on Wednesday, came home to two devestated little boys who wanted to go to the school disco but weren't allowed to because they hadn't cleaned their room and their kept on crying and crying and moaning and crying, dinner wasn't ready, I was supposed to leave to go to Agility training in 15 minutes and...I...broke.

Like a windup toy without a key, I stopped working. I made dinner, sat down and literally couldn't move. I was so awe inspiringly, gob smackingly tired, I couldn't move. I couldn't go to training even if people were depending on me. I sat down, I vegged, I read a good book and went to bed where I slept deeply and dreamlessly.

Sometimes, we need to not just wind the key but oil the soul as well.

I Am Woman, Hear Me *&%#*.....

My husband and I own an antique store. This means that, on a regular basis, all five foot of me gets to lug around peices of furniture which are several times my size. I have had two hand surgeries this year and still have gripping issues, my back regularly clicks out but I don't complain. I get to it, I pick huge wardrobes up and pop them on the back of our ute. I single handedly carry items that would make a grown man whimper. And then, after a full day of rearranging furniture, clearing houselots, loading and unloading robes etc, I quite happily wander off to agility and do it all again with the agility equipment.

Today we cleared a house. Today we moved around fifteen large peices of furniture including wardrobes, dressers, washstands, beds etc including a massive maple wardrobe that was twice my height and twice my length. Being twice my height and length means I couldn't lift it to clear the ground, and neither could husband, but I still managed to team lift it with hubby out the house, down the stairs, we both dropped it spectacularly through a shed (one of the mirrors broke dammit all!) and onto the ute. Hubby and I looked at each other in pure disbelief that we managed to get it on there! Everything was tied down and moved to the shop.

Once at the shop we unloaded it, it fell on me and pinned me to the ute and still I didn't complain. We loaded it onto a furniture trolley, which was exceedingly dodgy and managed to man (and woman) handle it around the corner and ready to go into the shop. Thats where we hit the first hitch, it was a half size again the height of the door frame. So, we laid it down on the trolley where it promptly started to slide off.

And that's when my knight in rusty army arrived. Rather than address the fact that the thing was sliding off due to the weight, he proceeded to try and get me to LET IT GO so HE could lift it. When he realised exactly how heavy and awkward it was, he sniffed and said, "Thats why I only collect little things," pushed past us and went into the shop.

Together hubby and I got it into the shop and finally into place. Standing back and looking at our handiwork, we were interrupted by the Knight saying, to husband, "You see, there's you're problem, other dealers hire a young man or two to help them but its harder when you've only got your wife." At that point hubby started looking madly at the ceiling while my temperature started to rise.

I fixed this idot with a steely glare while he continued to tell Tony that I couldn't possibly be as able bodied as a strapping young man. I continued to hold my tongue as tact and diplomacy are not my strong suit and I have REALLY been working on them. As he continued to wander around the shop I started to ask Tony to pull things down for me because "I was JUST a WOMAN and I couldn't POSSIBLY do that MYSELF".

I think it was a mere half a second after he left that I lost it and began bellowing about sanctimonious arseholes who wouldn't know a real woman from his blowup doll....and husband started laughing...he told me he was counting the seconds until I up and bitch slapped the wanker LOL!

ROADTRIP!

When I was a kid we used to go camping. Every September we would pack up and head somewhere. When we lived in the bush it was always to a farmers property where we could camp on the banks of a river and enjoy your morning cuppa with a cow or two and occasionally a horse would steal your coffee or toast. When we lived closer to the city it was to caravan parks, camping grounds etc and no matter where we went we had a ball.

I had the opportunity to take the Noodle and the kids up to Maryborough for the weekend, chasing that damn elusive Gamblers title and also running Agility, Jumpers, Snooker and Strategic Pairs(dog sports huh!). After clearing it with hubby I made the booking for a small camping ground on the outskirts of Maryborough called the Country Stopover Caravan and Camping Ground.

The journey was a mere two and a half hours but it was worth it. We arrived to a closed main office with a sign stating " Open from 9am to 10pm- If office is unattended, pick a spot...we'll catch up with you later!" This illicited a huge belly laugh from me at the honesty this implied! Off we toddled and chose a great spot under shady trees, near the amenities block (why is it that one of the taps never turns off...ever? Is it a quirk of fate or the Camping Gods just messin with ya?) The kids hit the swimming pool, it was tiny, saltwater and absolutley freezing but they swam and splashed like fish. I even jumped in and froze my bits off.

We then headed on out to the first of the two day trials. What a fantastic event! The judges were laid back, the atmosphere was friendly, the kids had two whole football fields to run around and act like fools in and we came away that night with two Q's, a third and a first place! The only thing was it ran very late. At one point Conor fell asleep in a full upright sitting position with his chin in one hand. Myself and several friends spent several minutes trying to figure out why gravity was apparently NOT applying to him! He did eventually shake himself awake enough to roll into a little ball where he was trodden on by a wayward whippet, checked over by Dan-Dan-He's-Our-Man, the lovable Lhasa owned by the adorable Bec and cuddled by Nell.

Back at the tent we realised quite quickly that shady trees don't work at night when you are less than twenty metres from a major highway, also known as a trucking route. The trucks were hideously noisy but we were so tired it didn't really matter.

Caitie is a doona hog as is Nell! I woke up to find myself covered in the dog rug having frozen during the night and Caitie was wrapped up in one doona, Nell was laying in between her and Conor, on her back both snoring and farting and the boys were sharing the two remaining doona's!

Breakfast opened a whole new high for us...the camp kitchen. I don't care about the prickles, the weeds, the rusting hulks of cars behind the managers residence, the dodgy looking demountables, the scary amenities but that camp kitchen was schmicko! It had a running sink, fridge, free gas barbeque, wood stove, huge picnic tables and even a tv! I was in love.

And to me, that was the sign of a great camping ground. It wasn't about perfect amenities, it was about the things that made camping easier for everyone. I happily told everyone about our "dodgy camping ground". You know, we actually packed up and left without even seeing the owner or paying for our stay????

After the second days trial, I did go back and pay...and he even undercharged me! Would I go back, hell yes, and the kids had a ball as well! And still...that damn Gamblers title eluded me again!

FOOD FIGHT!!!

'K, so, when Aiden was five, I made a rather rash promise to him. I said that for his tenth birthday he could have a food fight. I figured he would forget all about it....and the joys of living with an Aspie kid get better and better. They don't forget sh*t!




First day of year 1 he invited his whole class. I had to put the brakes on it and told him to wait. He waited with patience and a diligence I have yet to see in his school work...and this weekend, we had the biggest food fight our 'burb' has ever seen.



We started with pulling a single lolly out of a pile of flour with their teeth, the winner went on a "grudge list" where they could choose the first missile fired and at whom in the final food fight. The second game was a Freddo frog game which involved moving half melted Freddos from one plate to another and back again and then eating them without using their hands.


The third game was spaghetti hair styles. This was hilarious as we had an odd number and hubby had to jump in and help.... he kept complaining the pasta was cold LOL.

This was followed by games such as finding one lolly in a bunch of balloons filled with flour, water, sauce and a combination of all three. There was a sauce flinging targetting game, lemonade roulette and the final game, which was an absolute cracker....

The Jelly Dunk!

Take one big deep plastic container and set 12 packets of red jelly in it. Add a packet of lolly snakes and, when set, whisk with a handbeater (this breaks the snakes up and makes the whole thing look like red vomit, very appealing to boys). Finally, hide an entire 20 pack of Freddo frogs in said jelly and you have the setting for an absolute hoot. The kids had to dunk for frogs with their hands behind their backs. They had ten seconds to pull out as many as they could. And trust me, that stuff was cold! The first round the kids were really tentative, by the second round we had full head dunking and jelly in ears, eyes, mouths!

Then it was time for cake and the final all in brawl! 11 kids, numerous plates of spaghetti, baked beans, custard, flour, macaroons, strawberries, tomatoes, jelly, leftover cake and you have one heck of a big mess....luckily we have chickens and dogs to clean up!

All in it was a fantastic boy party, one that will be talked about for a while. And most importantly? My shyboy got out and partied with the best of them.

Spring is just around the corner, I can nearly feel it!

A Whole Heap o' Hurt

I don't get along with my parents-in-law, in fact we are estranged from A's parents completely. This is through no fault of ours but through the stubborness of two very difficult people. Hubby and I have had to fight our way through the tons of bullshit hefted our way, regularly and with a football sized shovel and still I was never good enough.

There were times he held me while I wept. You see, I get along with pretty much everybody. If I don't like you, I will still treat you with civility. I turn the other cheek so often I only have a tan on one side of my face! All I ever wanted was a M-I-L that I could share our troubles with, maybe a S-I-L that I could have coffee with and share a whole mess of cousins. Even a F-I-L who would show my boys how to do "stuff" and coo over our girl. Instead, I recieved hate, mistrust, rudeness and an ability to cause pain that would make a dentist needle look obselete.

And you know what, I can deal with that. It hurts to be completely ignored when you speak but try that shit on my kids and I will bitch slap you from here until Christmas and don't think you're stopping for Thanksgiving! We were estranged for a few years when the death of A's beloved Grandmother brought us back together as a family. Not for long.

I watched as the P-I-L came over to help with some tree lopping and my M-I-L fawned all over my daughter....while ignoring my three year old son. He sat there with his big brown eyes and a worry on his tiny face because he was getting no attention and I broke. I broke for him, I broke for the years of pain this could potentially cause and I broke for my husband. How two nasty people could produce a loving and caring individual such as my husband is astonishing beyond belief. I know he didn't learn his compassion from them!

Why this lengthy evil P-I-L bashing session?

They live not more than five minutes away from me. Husband and I helped them renovate great whopping swathes of their home. We helped build the bar, refurbish the lounge room, build the rotunda for the spa, the deck for the back of the house, I even painted a mural in their downstairs toilet. Before all of the niceness ended we had great times there. The only way I learnt about A's childhood was from sessions spent with a quiet port around a roaring brazier as stories were swapped. It was insightful and eyeopening but I felt I knew him better.

Yesterday I saw their house for sale in the paper. It has been sold. And my heart hurt. It hurt and it cracked and it broke into a million pieces. Why? Because once they move, we won't know where they will be. It will be the absolute end of one branch of our family tree. Before this, that branch was there but it was diseased and mis-shapen. If only they had of asked or extended a hand, we then could have pruned that branch back into shape. Now, the branch will be gone and there will be no going back.

Try and explain that to a twelve year old who remembers riding the lawnmower with her Pop, a ten year old who needs love and constant reassurance....and a six year old who they don't even know exists and who they don't know his name, his age or even his sex. Go on...just try.

Cin

Boils, Toils and Little Boys

On the 18th of August, 2000 my father was visiting and removing a garden path which he had a particular use for. It was late in the afternoon, a lovely warm winters day and Tony was at work. Every time I moved my dads eyes would shoot up to me and he would ask, with some concern, "Are you OK?" He is sweet and funny and had every right to be concerned since I was pregnant with my second child...very, VERY pregnant. At that time, on that day I was pretty darn sure I was in the early stages of labour. My back was killing me and I was getting regularly short little contractions. He asked if he could take Caitie home with him for a sleep over with him and Nanna Jen and I was happy to oblige.

No less than ten hours later I was in the labour and delivery ward giving my son away. Nope, by that stage I had had enough, the contractions were incredibly painful and I was not doing this any MORE! So I told Jen she could have him, yup, lock, stock and two smokin barrels, he was hers!

Ten years on, I hafta look back and laugh at that early recollection of Aidens birth. I was supremely disappointed I was having another C-section and was dismally aware of what a failure of a real woman I was. Couldn't give birth normal, couldn't breast feed normal...I sucked...and yet, I had one of the fattest and happiest babies of all. He had long roo feet and acted like a koala. His first nickname was Drop Bear because he ate and slept. Placid, content and rarely fractious.

Caitie adored him from the start and we used to sing a song to our boy as he was being bottle fed....

Baby, don't cry

Baby, dont cry

Its alright now

Its alright now

When the world is getting you down

And you don't know what to do

I'll be a friend to call on

I'll be there for you, so

Baby, don't cry
Baby, dont cry
Its alright now
Its alright now...

Her sweet voice always got me.

And then, tragedy hit our family. Aiden was 11 months old and I was diagnosed with Cancer of the tongue. Apparently I was swearing too much (grin) Nine days in hospital with 25% of my tongue removed, a scar from one side of my neck to the other, up and around my ear. But we got through it, just in time to celebrate Aidens first birthday. By that stage he had become a happy, healthy, bubbly bundle of joy who earnt his second nickname, Tootle, for the way he wandered around on his little trike.

And time marches on. This kid has been in the wars like all kids. He fell over in the yard and gouged a hole in his knee which was fine until he visited my Uncles farm and let every bacteria known to man in it. When he got home, the whole knee was hot to the touch and the sore itself was black. It took me sitting on him and Tony holding him down to lance it! And then there was the time he decided to paint the bathroom floor with soap....he jumped out of the bath, looked at his toes as they zoomed past his ears and cracked his chin open on the bath...or when he had croup so badly he was close to dying. His body was fighting for oxygen, he was blue around the mouth and making no sense as his brain was starved with air. I got him to the hospital just in time.

In 2004 we welcomed his baby brother Conor to the world...and these two have been as thick as thieves since. Where there is trouble there is one dark head of hair and one blonde usually hunched over the top of it. Naughtiness is second nature to them, bodily emission jokes are fantastic and when a fit of the giggles comes on, nothing can stop it. Conor still sneaks up into Aidens bed of a night time. Conor fell out one night, hit the floor with a thud that scared the doolies out of the both of them. Now, Aiden makes sure Conor is on the inside of the bunk bed.

School has been hard. After three years of something being "not quite right" we got a diagnosis. Aiden is an Aspergers Kid. He sees the world different to us. Sometimes we have to let go and see the world the same way. He is funny with it though. He won't eat tinned fish because he knows its cat food. You can't tell him any different. He is terrified of deep water and it took two years for him to jump off the diving blocks because he was convinced that the water didn't have a bottom. He has the attention span of a gnat. But when something catches him, it catches him hard and fast. He loves researching the weather and loves trains.

And he loves his girl. She is his best friend at school and these two are stuck at the hip. A is naughty, sassy, spunky and full of fun. And A loves him dearly (though she won't admit it). She mothers him like a Mother Duck, tucks his shirt in and makes sure he has everything. They are so sweet. She hugs me when she sees me and I love her to bits because she sees past Aidens problems to the fantastic person he is inside.

And now he is ten! He comes out with the funniest things. Calls his sister Miss Fersnickety. He makes me laugh and hurts my head all at the same time. I hate it when he gets frustrated because I can't help him. I have to stand back and let him fall and then be there to pick up the pieces. I have to teach him to control his wildfire temper. I have to be there to make sure he doesn't let it go and accidently hurt someone, usually Caitlin. Its a tough road, paved with stones but occasionally? We'll hit a stone with a hidden gem.

Happy Birthday Sweet Boy!

Boys and Body Odour

Yep, I'm going there, into the green misty world of the foul and fetid.

As well as issues with #2's, A also has a severe intolerance for dried fruit....which he has used to devastating effect.

Not long ago the kids had a mixed bag of dried fruit and nuts with their school lunch and A had around three prunes. They gave him gas that bad that the flowers in my garden went out in sympathy. Our air quality was seriously affected. His dad went off at him because A quite often dropped and ran. So, A then broke into the fridge and stole more prunes just to prolong the agony! Devious little mite he is.

Anyway, I bumped into his teacher at school the other day and Mr G told me he had a problem with A.

Me: Yes, what now...*sigh*
Mr G: He's farting.
Me: Well he does have some issues with certain foods......
Mr G: No, you don't understand, I don't mind if he takes himself outside and farts its just...well
Me: What? (looking puzzled)
Mr G: Umm, he dropped one, went outside and locked all the windows and doors and told his class mates to "Enjoy it boys."

I had to turn away. I had to slap my hand over my stupid mouth because I was in danger of erupting into fits of giggles.

His father was quite proud...*sigh*

Cindy

Big Fish Little Fish

I am a member of a Dog Obedience club and, without bragging, I could say I am one of the "Big Fish" there. By that I mean that I am the Equipment Officer, I'm an Instructor in both Obedience and Agility and I get to wear a funky club shirt. Its a big deal. It means that the new people listen to me, they come to me for advice and listen when I give it. I kow the ins and outs of the club, have my own keys, occassionally get to yell at people and know people and their dogs by name...they also know me by name.

I am also a trainee Judge for Shorthair cats. As a trainee judge, it means I am a little fish....actually, I am krill. And thats really hard to deal with. I have to be the one listening, showing respect, curbing my personality and being someone totally different than I normally am.

It is so darn hard! Actually, you know what it reminds me of? Grade 7....when you are the head of the school, you can pick on the little kids and you are a god...then you hit high school and you are an amoebe. A germ I tells ya! Its a whole new world full of watching your p's and q's and learning how to handle yourself.

Unlike high school however, I get to be a Big Fish twice a week. So, I reckon its worth it.

The School Mosquito

Strange name for a post but this is what I feel our school has become. A blood sucking mosquito. My kids are coming home regularly with their hands out for money for excursions, assignments, classes the works...AND THEY AREN'T EVEN OUT OF PRIMARY SCHOOL YET!

Caitie and Aiden were told they HAD to have the school diaries. $10 each when I had bought them both a perfectly good generic one for 97c down the road. Each child is being charge $80 to do sports off campus. Why? Because they apparently compete against the other schools in the area. Caitlin is being charge $20 for Home Ec...but she brings her own ingredients. $50 each for computer studies when the computers were donated to the school. Conor was charge for an excusion that was cancelled. Aiden has an outstanding account of $3.60 for another excursion. I ALWAYS pay for the excursions up front, so explain to me why I am being charged????

Add to that the daily torment about their uniforms and I am ready to rip someone apart. Detention for wearing tracksuit pants with a formal shirt, detention for wearing the wrong length sock, detention for wearing a coloured HAIRBAND or headband.

It has to stop...why? Because my kids go to a State School. Not a private school, a bloody state school!

C

Stone Angels

K, so I'm not a religious zealot and I have my own faith thankyou very much Mr Knock-On-My-Door-At-Dinnertime. I just wanna know when we turned into such horrible people!

I am in gobsmacking awe of just how bad people have become. Famous examples...Lohan who believes that she shouldn't HAVE to go to jail when she was told to quit drinking and had a purdy bracelet to stop her...the nutcase Venables who figured that he had a new name, new life so he could pose as a PARENT and offer his "daughter" to other perves and download porn from other parents...I just found a website on a church that protests outside FUNERALS of soldiers killed in action cause hey they don't believe in any war effort and tough poo its your fault you got killed and you're going to hell.

On the homefront, people who don't listen and learn and then whinge when everything goes pearshaped. People who believe that a position of authority equates to power and then wield it like a sword trying to cut everyone down who doesn't agree with them. Twats on Facebook who believe their opinion is the be-all and end-all and if you disagree wrath doth rain down. People who join any form of club as a hobby and denegrate other members, run the clubs into the ground, throw tantrums that would put a two year old to shame and fling around law suits like they are yesterdays washing.

I have one simple message for you....GROW UP!

As I said, I ain't religious but lets just look at what the Ten Commandments, or ten life lessons can teach us...

1)You shall have no other Gods before Me- Roughly translated, there is A god...you can believe in whoever you want, whether it be black, white or brindle, just stick with one and stop flinging different beliefs in...oh and that means one ain't biggerer or betterer than the rest.

3) Make no idols etc etc etc- Wellll, maybe that means can we please take Australian Idol off the air, puleeze??? Cause its taking off all the good shows.

3)Taking the Lords name if vain- Can we just try to cut down on the swearing and the cussing? When I hear my six year old yelling, "Oh for Gods sake..." Even I wanna smack him one. If it ain't your God or belief don't use it, you'll just piss someone off!

4)Remember the Sabbath day- as much as I wish it means let me sleep in, I firmly believe that it means take one day, whatever day it may be, to honour and cherish your family and faith. Whether its the Catholic Church, Jewish, Islam or even just going for a walk in the bush and drinking in all that Mother Nature has to offer. Take time to worship your life!

Now we get to the gritty stuff...

5)Honor thy father and mother- This is not rocket science. We have been here far longer on earth than you have and we are still alive therefore we must have done something right. What we say goes, unless you can come up with a reallllllly good reason why. Its our perogative to listen to you, nod wisely and then say no....because we said so.

6)You shall not commit murder- Well doesn't that just explain itself???? Who the heck thinks they are so important that they can take someone else's life away. Or someones Mother, Father, Sister, Brother, Best friends life away. Put down the knives and the guns and talk stuff through. Don't be killin someone cause they gave you plain salt instead of chicken salt on your chips.

7) You shall not commit adultery- If you want to dip your wick in someone else's candle, DON'T. Not only will you hurt yourself in the long run but you will also hurt your kids, your friends, your family...thats what fantasies were invented for. Close your eyes and picture Angelina Jolie.... or Brad Pitt if you're a wandering female or both if you're undecided.

8)You shall not steal- Why on earth do young people believe that the world belongs to them??? When did it become passe' to take stuff. Bring back the slap-upside-the-head-coppers I say. It doesn't belong to you, so leave it be!

9)You shall not bear false witness against your neighbour- in other words, unless you know something for a fact, shut the hell up! So many people indulge in idol gossip these days that is hurtful and denegrates people. What do you think school bullies do??? Just quit it.

10)Don't covet nothing!- Ok, I changed it somewhat but I sooo wasn't typing about your neighbours ox. Roughly translates into- you got your own stuff, leave everyone else's stuff alone. If you want it, earnt it, stop sitting there googly eyed cause you can't have it.

Ok, so thats my version of the 10 Commandments.

It just kills me that so many kids are adrift, so many people are lost in our society today. When we took away the Church, we took away the simplest of life lessons. We didn't have to have a bible to learn to be good but we do need a list of rules. Take away the rules and people don't have boundaries and don't know how to act. Again, it comes down to one hard, concrete fact....Be true to yourself, act in a way you would like to be remembered, practice tact and discretition and you will remembered as being a good person...and isn't that what we all want? To be good.

C

Suffer the Little Children

A teacher is a person we entrust our children to for six hours a day, five days a week. He needs to convey a sense of leadership whilst encouraging a nurturing environment in which the students can learn. He needs to share his wisdom and teach his philosphies with integrity, diplomacy and most importantly, passion.

In 2008 Caitie was subjected to six months of abuse from her Grade 5 teacher. Her entire class was subjected to this evil man. This "teacher" threw chairs and desks, called the children filthy names under his breath, yet was heard by the students, he grabbed one child hard enough to create bruises and he knocked Caitie to the ground as she stopped to do up her shoelace. He then laughed at her. He clipped students around the head and called them idiots. This man was not, nor will he ever be, fit to be a teacher. Two years ago we campaigned to have him removed from the school. He left on stress leave and we were told he was never to return. After months of holding my daughter while she cried and begged to stay at home, I had a happy girl again. After six months of failing grades, Caitlin found that school could once again be a safe place and she blossomed under her new teacher.

Yesterday I was given the news that this man was returning to the school to take over Conors year 1 class. A man who could not handle a group of 9-10 year olds is being given the job of teaching 6 year olds. In 2008 he took a group of 4-5 year old Prep students for a swimming class and was screaming at them to get dressed, causing quite a few to burst into tears. This will be the third teacher for the class due to the first teacher, Mrs S going on maternity leave. This wonderful educator took quite a few weeks to find the perfect teacher, Miss H to take her place. Now, her choice of teacher is being pushed to the side to make way for a monster. In a meeting with Miss H to discuss the students, she asked him if he wanted to return to teaching, he said no. Was he happy to be back teaching, he said no, he was biding his time until retirement. A committed, enthusiastic young teacher is being replaced by this man who is using Year 1 as a placeholder until he can retire.

That is just the kind of person I want in charge of my childs education.

As Bertrand Russell once said, "More important than the curriculum is the question of the methods of teaching and the spirit in which the teaching is given."

I couldn't put it better myself. Let him back and suffer the little children.

Sadly

Cindy

The Return of Super MUM!!!

Life has been insanely frantic lately. We are leading up to a huge weekend and this week has been manic. Monday I worked as well as gromming, delivering furniture and organising my next few weeks off training.

Tuesday we delivered furniture and picked furniture up from Ipswich. When I got home I discovered I had forgotten to groom one of my favourite clients so had to race to school, pick up the kids, then groom Fleur the poodle, race home in time for a wonderful lady to come over and choose her new fur baby.

Wednesday dawned with a flying visit to a friend and our work partners home to pick up shelving for the shop and visit with Fairy Mouse, her daughters companion Devon who left our home for her house and likes to eat our cake!

Thursday, furniture deliveries to Eatons Hill and back to the shop where we rearranged the entire shop and cleaned out the store-room, THEN flying out the door to deliver repairs and other stock which we no longer needed.

Friday will be another nightmare day with my final hand surgery happening at 10am. While I spend the rest of the day resting (yeah right) husband will be tending to the shop as well as delivering two lots of stock in the afternoon.

Finally, Saturday and Sunday will bring no less than six Agility runs per day! Nell and I are competing for our Novice Agility, Jumping Dog Excellent, Snooker Dog Novice, Gamblers Dog Novice and Strategic Pairs Excellent titles or qualifications. I am going prepared with plenty of toys, a new collar and some yummy chicken wings for Nell to help keep her strength up. There is going to be good food, great company and fantastic competition all weekend.

BRING IT ON!!

Cheers!

A Huge Day.

At the end of the Summer holidays, the kids and I went to the Museum and, on a whim, followed through to the Gallery of Modern Art. There the kids came in contact with an artwork by Australian artist Ron Mueck. It was a gigantic sculpture of a woman in bed. The realism was amazing at it blew my kids away. So when we found out that he was having a display at the Gallery, well we had to go!

We went around the entire display and I asked each child to tell me their favourite piece. The kids were enthralled with each work and amazed with the depth of detail each one had.

Aidens favourite was the newborn baby "A Girl". It was gigantic and so realistic.

Big Head is another favourite of all three of my children. Each individial bristle had to be hand placed into microscopic pores. He even has his teeth in place and nostril hairs!

Another interesting fact about this piece is that it is a like a giant mask. There is not substance to it, it is literally a mask!

We all found this one to be quite disturbing, mainly for the fact that the subject seemed unaffected by the fact he had been stabbed and was bleeding. There was no emotion. This one affected Caitie quite a bit.

Now we all know boys love gruesome stuff but even this one was a bit gross for my boys. This dead chicken, called Still Life, is about the size of an elephant and hangs inelegantly from a butchers hook suspended from the ceiling.

It is gory and real yet strangely puppetlike. You expect the thing to suddenly start flapping! It was a magnet for alot of children.

If you went around the other side of the bird, you could see where its throat had been cut and all the innards exposed. Very clinical though, no blood.

This gentleman, in his big boat, seemed cold and grumpy to the kids. He held little interest as he was not on their eye level.

Caitlins favourite piece is "In Bed". She told me when she first saw it that she thought the lady was very sad and unhappy. She kept coming back to it though. It was interesting to watch how many people copied her hand position without realising they were doing it. I find her disturbing and heartbreakingly sad.

This is a very jolly lady, attuned to her work. Mind you, there is no way I would be picking these up in the nudy! The balance was excellent, symmetrical.

One of the more "controversial" pieces to show children. It is called Wild Man and Conor liked him immensely. (He secretly told me he liked that he was in the nude. Caitie said that she thought he had a small penis for his size LOL). I did tell my kids before going in that they would be seeing graphic nudity and they already knew what a willy looked like. After a few little sniggers, they settled down to look at the sculptures as a whole rather than just the rude bits.

Yes, I did blank out his bits for those who don't really want to see a gigantic big willy. This was another confronting piece. The title suggested someone who was used to being on his own and the subject seemed anxious and uncomfortable being thrust, naked, into the spotlight.

Caitie and Aiden assessing the gigantic baby. They found the blood and placenta traces to be both fascinating and appalling in equal measures.

While I appreciated the detail, I found this one to be the most unrealistic of all the pieces.

And finally, my favourite piece. Titled "Old Woman In Bed", it is an elderly woman who appears very ill, sleeping huddled under a blanket. It is beautiful in a very sad way. You want to walk up and gently brush the hair off her brow and whisper quietly that it will be alright. It captures a moment between life and death and the Gallery had it hidden away around a corner. Absolutely beautiful.

So, there we have it. The Ron Mueck exhibition at the Gallery of Modern Art, Brisbane. Its a must see if you are in the area.

I will post more of my kids trip to the city at a later date. I am tired right now....

Cin.

Long Time...No Post...

Yes, it has been a while. Yes, alot has happened, yes we are busy and yes I think I keep forgetting to breathe!

Four weeks ago Aiden was swinging on one of the huge 20+kg benches we have in the kitchen and flicked it forward whence it fell and smushed his toe. Having three accident prone kids makes one slower to react, so we both sat there and looked at him with a "you're a twit" look on our faces...until he started bellowing that there was blood pouring out. After looking at it we both agreed it was my turn to go to the hospital (yes we take turns, that is saying something doncha think?) Result? Aiden ripped the nail OUT of the nail bed then pushed it back through the quick. He also split it right around the top but didn't manage to break it. After three weeks of constant trips to the doctor, antibiotics and him wearing only one shoe to school, the toenail finally fell off and it started to heal.

And this is it after three weeks of bandaging and after the nail fell off. A week or two later and he is actually wearing shoes and healing well!

Conor had a disagreement with his bed...this provided another fantastic photo opportunity cause hey, I don't have enough pictures of my injured kids! I should start a collection.....(hmmmm)

Mothers Day was spent going for a bushwalk with my three peeps who decided half way around that fighting like banshees was a preferable option to enjoying the fresh air and autumn sunshine. Isn't that what most Mothers had to put up with?

This, of course, was taken prior to WWIV breaking out. See, they can act like normal loving children occasionally.

Q is growing into a handsome young man who is loving life in all its glory. He is funny, silly and very cute as well!

And finally...if I hear one my child telling me...Its not fair, I'm not doing it, how come I have to...I will scream!

C