Do an internet search for terms including personality, probiotics, gut, and pretty much any other word, and articles come up that discuss how the bacteria in the gut affect brain function and any number of other things. Previously I have written about my experiences with 5yo’s energy levels. I had found a vitamin mix that seemed to help, but only a little. A friend shared an article on facebook (which I now can’t find) and it seemed interesting, and discussed how gut flora and etc may be linked to many things, including moods, personalities and even autism, and how probiotics can help. So I started dosing 5yo up as well, as 6.5yo was already taking them but for different reasons. I noticed a difference straight away. And it was more marked than when he started taking the vitamins. It was awesome. But it wasn’t so remarkable as to change his personality, which I have been worried about. Because he is an awesome kid (obviously), and I don’t want to change him, but I do need him to settle the hail down sometimes. Since taking the probiotics, he has not been as crazily energetic or annoying on purpose, or just o-v-e-r the top. Until the other day when Husband commented on him being a bit of a shit, and I realised we had not been as regular the last few days with the probiotic doses. A-mazeballs. And also, I had not taken mine either, and I was a leedle bit more grumpy. Hmmm. Either that, or I had run out of wine, but I’m leaning toward the former.
Resolutions
For the last 2 years, I have made new year’s resolutions for each member of our family. For the littles, they were age appropriate, like toilet training or reading or writing, and for Husband they got onto the list with his aporoval. I have not thought much about them until now, having just got past the whole Christmas caper. But I am somewhat of a planner, so I am always looking ahead and I see the deadline for the list of resolutions looming ahead.
I think I’m going to work on being consistent, in everything; 5yo will be starting kindergarten in September, so he will need to work on his penmanship;
6.5yo will work on being a confident public speaker, in any and all situations; and 3yo needs to work on being gentle – sure he is 3 and has older rough-housing brothers, but he is a real shit sometimes! Husband has had family-centric resolutions the past few years, this time his resolution will be Husband-centric.
As part of the process, I talk about what the resolutions involve and how we can work on them, and try and remember to follow up and revisit every few months. Or in my case, for this year and those past, I repeat them to myself as a mantra every time shit goes haywire at home. It helps, amazingly enough. *deep breaths*
Turd Burgers
Husband was super excited about the playdate today, as was I – we had a whiskey tasting. Tasting turned into drinking, of course, and the boys kept themselves occupied most of the time so we could concentrate on the important things. I wanted to bring something more than cookies, so I asked Husband what food would go well with whiskey, and his immediate response was Hhhhgggghhhhaggis. Coincidentally, we had a can of that shit in the pantry. The label recommended preparing it with whiskey, perfect!
The kids immediately set to dismantling our friends’ clean house and Husband read out the contents of the can. Good manners prevailed and we all had a small helping. I thought it smelt like a can of braised steak and onions, which I didn’t mind eating, and Husband and I discussed whether that would be similar to corned beef and hash. Anyhoo, the haggis had a nasty livery aftertaste, so none of us were impressed. Husband may try and get his hands on some blood sausage for our next family outing, to really cement the relationship.
“It can make a turd,” echoed in the kitchen. I’m still laughing inside. It could indeed, make a turd, and also many turd metaphors and puns. It really wasn’t that bad, until the end, but eating it from a can is probably cheating. No gut casing and extra offal don’t make for an authentic meal. Ralph.
But the turd comment was certainly apt, and got me thinking about so many things that are good for making turds, but not necessarily much else.
That liver stew I made, totes nasty. I was trying not to be wasteful, considering the size of the turkey and its considerable offal inside. I was thinking about vitamins and minerals, and not about eating those nasty things. In the end, I couldn’t palate it to even make the aforementioned turd.
Smoked salmon. Go ahead, call me crazy, but I dont like it.
The risotto I tried to make in the slow cooker, that was good for making the aforementioned. But it wasn’t really a proper risotto, so I’m not going to try that again.
Luckily there haven’t been many kitchen disasters so most our turds have been made on purpose, not out of obligation, but we won’t be making any more with haggis.
All I want for Chriiiiiiistmaaaaaass
Mariah rocks my Christmas every year. Husband waits all year long to watch Love Actually and I crank her song and drive too fast while I dance behind the wheel driving too and from school. One of these years someone will finally give me her album…
All I want for Chriiiistmaaaaaas, iiiiiiiis…wait for it, wait for it… !!yoooooooooooooooooooooouuuuuu!!
But besides that, anything else?
5yo has been pretty vocal about what he wants for Christmas, and I think he is finally old enough to use it properly. 6.5yo is harder to buy for because he has opinions about everything. 3yo will cry about something, but I’m pretty sure I nailed it for all of them. Husband, of course, is a massive pain to buy for because he buys what he needs and occasionally what he wants when he needs it, and he is rubbish about giving suggestions for relatives. Luckily, I am an excellent list maker and I know that starting early is key. This also means that I made a list about things that I have thought about for myself, so he didn’t have to leave his shopping until the last minute, again. I was, in fact, so organised as to have 95% of the presents ready to post last month. Cue the smugness whenever anyone asks about last minute shopping. But oh boy! Posting a truckload of presents costs almost as much as the presents themselves.
But what else do I want? Besides Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows II and a handful of books (meaningful glance), just good kids? Well, naaah, I’ll save that for Mother’s Day. There must be something else, but when it comes down to it, my list for myself doesn’t have big things on it, ever. I’m sure there was something, but now I have forgotten. Perhaps it was a prescription for memory medication.
Husband is a helper, too.
Shopping with kids blows, but they know how I roll; they know what they can get away with, and I know what else they will try and get away with. I have a list; sometimes 6.5yo writes his own or rewrites mine. And sometimes, if I forget the list, we can all think about what we (want) need to make a new one. Everyone can help get the fresh stuff, and even 3yo can grab bits and pieces – though is he not great at putting them into the trolley gently.
Husband, on the other hand, tries to be helpful, but is, in fact, the opposite. He took the shopping bags out of the car this morning, and while it was a kind hearted mistake – he was clearing my seat for me to sit down – it was the first sign that shopping with Husband in tow was my mistake.
He wants to be helpful by pushing the trolley, but that is my job and gives me a little bit of zen so I don’t throttle him or the kids among the melons. It also lets the boys know that when I pull over to the side of the aisle, we are !stopping!, so “this is our area”, and then everyone can help get what we need. Unless your arms are too short to reach (past the top of your own head) down into the trolley and place items gently, in which case you have your first tantrum. Or unless Husband has grabbed whatever it is already, and not left any chance for the boys to help. Hmmm. Insert evil eye here.
He questions the things on my list, and questions my brand choices. I have my reasons, but not the patience or time it would take to explain them. Eyebrow raise challenge.
He disagrees with how I keep the boys occupied (sometimes I buy them snacks or promise them a matchbox car), disagrees with what I buy or why I buy it *see end of previous paragraph*, and gets fussy if it all takes too long.
He is worse than the kids, and honestly, I’d take the kids shopping without him any day, rather than have him come along and cry about it *see first sentence*. But perhaps if I am better prepared next time, I will have treats for him when he behaves, a snack, and maybe, a car. I know he wants to help, just like they do, and while he isn’t necessarily shaking the box of taco shells like 6.5yo, or dropping the fruit like 3yo, I should have him bringing back things from the other side of the store, at least so I have some downtime between his little peeves and so he can walk out his sillies for a few minutes, and still have the satisfaction of helping.
And a nap afterwards, of course.
Not Nearly Anymore
As of yesterday, he is just 3 now, not nearly anymore. He was going to have 2 parties on the weekend, but life gets in the way, as it is wont to do.
On Saturday morning, he was trying to climb poorly (thought out) stacked stools, and fell and cut his chin. Husband was ready to take him in for stitches, but was happy enough in the end with some properly places bandaids. Post nap, though, 3yo was sick, and sick again just before the party.
I think it was too much water in his belly, but we postponed the little party, just to be sure.
Needless to say, he was disappointed. We both were, actually, because I didn’t think he was seriously ill and he saw all the decorations I had strung around, and I had also left the cake on the bench.
We managed to catch his friends by text message before they left, or perhaps not and they were too polite to say so. We watched him the next little while but he was as chipper as ever with no signs of anything more. He had a great time when his big friends came over, and the cake did not go to waste, nor see much daylight after the candles were blown out.
Cut to Tuesday when the little friends birthday was rescheduled to, and one of his friends had an appointment and another friends’ father was sick, but 3yo made up for it with jumping and squealing, so it was just as noisy with one friend as it would have been with more.
Add infinitum cupcakes, games, balloons, tissue paper and toys on the floor.
Of course he was asleep after 3 minutes in the car for the school run.
I’m Procrastinating Again
There are plenty of things I should be doing, as per usual, and one in particular is heading toward some level of urgency, but I’m procrastinating again. I have a sewing project that really could have been finished by now but, of course, the kitchen and laundry are ceaseless task masters. It is a hand sewing project, and in the spirit of procrastinating, sewing always reminds me of my mother and grandmother.
Pushing the needle through one side and back again quiets my mind, and reminds me of Mum biting off the thread with her teeth. When Oma sewed, she would pin things and use her machine.
When I sew, I am reminded of both of them, and I can feel their fingers pressing aginst me with the pins and the fabric. I am reminded of what Mum would say to me when I am likewise pinning things, and the boys squirm unnecessarily and unhelpfully when I’m trying to measure things on them.
The Joy of the Season
Driving to the “mountains” to attend a xmas party today, the cutest, most quaint and fun xmas party ever.
But that means driving w the kids for 40+ minutes, oh geez.
There is a cartoon circulating which perfectly illustrates my morning: the one where the man is shaving, showering and shitting in peace, and gets dressed and ready to leave the house, then has the audacity to ask why the woman isnt ready yet.
The boys were already dressed, but I found spare clothes for them to wear because we are going out afterwards. Some clothes were upstairs, and some down. Add in warm socks for the gumboots and gloves. I pooled the puffy jackets and snacks. I put on the dishwasher. Then it was my turn to get dressed, but my clothes were also in 2 different ends of the house, plus boots, and empty the garbage. Then Husband busts my hump about the boys waiting in the car for too long. Erm, halloo? Did I hear that correctly? Take 3yo back inside to use the bathroom before we go, please, while I grab a hat box so my green felt doesn’t get squashed in the car. And then a drop or two of lavendar under my nose, I can be calm for the next potentially excruciating 40+ minutes.
!Spoiler Alert!
Husband and I don’t often get involved with new shows – we can’t always make time for the shows that we already watch. We dig Grimm and Grey’s right now, and last night we watched them both. We also doubled down on the wine and salted caramel chocolates!
And so, along with the standard melodramatic plot, Husband had me teary eyed and with baited breath to see what would happen next in his bromance with Derek Shepherd. Husband has a few man crushes, but McDreamy might well be the longest running.
When I first started watching Grey’s, I wasn’t really a fan of Sheps, but his hair changed my mind. Honestly, that hair could carry a plot all on it’s own. Husband is saving up for a stylist, so he can have a do just like Derek’s.
His eyes also help, those dreamy peepers; Husband could gaze long into the night, or at least until an ad comes on.
But McDreamy isn’t only a dreamboat, he is still a man’s man. His nose is almost slightly bent, and it’s sort of big, too, and that is something Husband can relate to.
The hair, again, is always worth another mention.
The sheer nobility of Derek’s character is another big plus, for both of us, frankly. Whatever Derek does, he does it well, and with stylish hair. Except when he was speeding all the time and getting thrown in the clink. I loved it when Meredith (ugh, don’t even get me started about her) left him there when Yang married Owen.
And now, getting called by the President, puh-lease! Derek is da man. We can only assume that Sheps will solve some brain malfunction that relates to the President’s close family, and he effectively saves the world, or words to that effect. Husband was on the edge of his seat when they had the beginning of that conversation!
And don’t forget the sideline racing of McDreamy in real life, Husband wants to be that guy.
Put it all together, and I might be in real trouble if we lived in or near Seattle.
I am a shitty friend.
This must be the case, why the hell else would one of my friends give my child a container of gak for his birthday?
It doesn’t matter what she thought he would do with it, surely any parent would know that it doesn’t matter what he would do with it, that it wouldn’t come off anything.
I commandeered a few minutes and set up the ladder today, to see what I could see. I saw that I had waited too long, but I think it would be a shit to get off at any stage of it’s drying in-ness. I pulled off some of it, and tried to wipe off other parts. I tried to scrape some off, I tried to sponge some off. Now it just looks like the ceiling has blue chicken pox or something.
I must have done something really awful to my friend without realising, or something really annoying for her to do this to me.
I might try to sponge paint one or two of them, and see if it is an obvious cover up. If that doesn’t work, my only option would be to egg my friend’s house.
4 Princes and Me 