Small Victories

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Small victories are my daily bread, whether they are boys getting dressed by themselves, preschoolers spontaneously problem-solving or Husband cooking dinner unasked, they are what I live for, and what I am thankful for. I’m also thankful that they are common occurence.

This morning’s victory was sponsored by starch, and brought to me by my youngest son. A recent spate of icky belly was brought on by reasons unknown, but the suspects included different foods or the water at the coast, or a bug, I suppose. Anyhoo, he normally wears underpants except for his prime times, but icky belly required all-day diapering -until today. After kissing Daddy good-bye and denying that he is dirty (but patting his pants for confirmation nonetheless), Husband is impressed and relieved when I tell him that “it’s a piece again”, to which he replies “well that’s something”. And as simple as that, we are done with the extra nappies and a world of unease.

On the flipside, my chronically clingy youngest goes into fits over nothing at all because I won’t pick him up, or if I do, I am not allowed to be sitting or kneeling when I do it. And so I offer to carry him around if he will sit on the potty, or he should go and play lego with his brothers. Neither seem a good deal so he is not forthcoming with answer, and so I try to persuade him by waiting in the bathroom. Of course, then he chooses to play by himself, but i can’t go and grab me some entertainment because my non-sneaky squeaky sneakers will give me away and start the whole sorry arguement over again.

To tip the balance, I can have hugs and kisses anytime I ask for them because he is always at my side, and I don’t mind trading housework to carry him around for a few minutes, but wait, then he says “no more kisses” but I’m not allowed to put him down. I think there is a miracle in there but maybe not a victory, doh!

Poo

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As a mother I know there will be poo, as a person I cannot stand poo. As a parent I have toilet trained 2.5 children and poo is the worst part.

Poo usually comes first when toilet training, at least it did for our two elder boys, then working on the wizzer is what takes the better part of the rest of their lives, or so it would seem, considering the state of their bathroom. Our youngest, however, has taken to bladder control like a champion, but won’t sit on the toilet when it really counts for love nor money, nor chocolates, toys nor the riches of middle earth. I don’t know how to overcome this hurdle, each time he sweetly repeats the mantra “no poo in the underpants” he’ll carry on playing and then *unpleasant sigh*, then I commence the business of cleaning them or just throwing them away. I have started putting him back in nappies/diapers after he does his morning man wee, and also after naps as that is when he usually goes, but geez! Where will it end? I live in fear on the afternoons of the days when he goes to preschool, of getting a nasty pair of underpants wrapped in a plastic bag in his backpack when I unpack the lunchboxes.

Of course, I know that we are very lucky that he has mastered his bladder this early. In fact, his brothers also did quite well in the toilet training department (and dare I say, the looks department), or perhaps my memory is foggy after a few short years. I also think that anytime I get someone else’s poo on my skin it destroys brain cells, so don’t quote me on that.

I made it myself!

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I didn’t know there were many variations of food-grade non-food items. I have started following some hippy blogs online and reading random articles, so I have since found out about where some ingredients come from, and what level of chemicals are are allowed in foods. So! I have decided to make our own muesli or granola bars, since my brand of choice is made by Monsanto (gasp!). If you don’t know who that is, then educate yourself!

Anyhoo, I found a recipe by Ina Garten for muesli bars which I really like and which the boys will actually eat. I added more seeds and the boys still like them – win-win. I have also slightly rejigged a recipe for shortbread cookies for gluten free, plus a choc chip cookie recipe, I hope never to buy pre-made cookies again. I have also wanted to make my own chocolate because of the palm oil content in commercial bars, not to mention the numbers and unpronounceables.

Recently a friend served me some a-mazing brownies which were everything-free because her son has allergies, so I tried the recipe at home and my boys dig them, too. Cacao, nuts, dates, that’s it! They are frozen, rather than cooked, and delicious. http://pathtowellness.com.au/raw-cacao-fudge-bites/

The recipe I found for chocolate is cacao, honey, coconut oil, vanilla and salt. The result is a tad too dark for me, but Husband loves it so I think it a suitable thank you gift for our neighbour for taking care of the birds. If only I had a mould in the shape of a chicken or small bird, rather than the thanksgiving monster we use for November baking! I cannot find the recipe link, but I copied it down a week or so ago: 1/2 cup raw cacao powder, 1/4 cup coconut oil, 1 and 1/2 tbs honey, 1/2 tsp vanilla, pinch of salt. Mix thoroughly then freeze for at least 30 minutes. Voila!

Our Chickens

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I did not want to get chickens, or any other type of farm pet, but I changed my mind after reading about so called free range eggs, and what happens to roosters after they are discovered. So we ended up buying a dozen babies of varying breeds in April last year, spring chickens, if you will. Some of them are supposedly doomed from the start, but also our 4-at-the-time-year old got over-excited and doomed them a little more, boo. So we ended up – much later – with 6 birds, and one day I spotted a hawk careening down the hill, chasing the chickens in the orchard where they live!! The bloody thing actually went INTO the chicken house! Anyhoo, after some bird netting strung between the fence and the apple trees had allayed my fears somewhat, I called a guy from Craigslist and secured 4 more birds – I had put in a lot of lady hours and too much infrastructure considering I hadn’t wanted poultry to begin with – to enhance my ailing numbers. A very good and helpful friend assisted me (did the job for me) in checking the new butts for bugs and sprinkling some powders up there somewhere, *shudder – let it be known and I do not like touching birds or many animals of any king, shudder* and integrating the “hobos” as I termed them (they didn’t live inside the small separate cage I organised for them, they sat on top of the bloody thing all night, predators be damned). After a few days or a week, I can’t remember which, they all moved into the hen house with nary a squawk. I was surprised to find that the old lady chicken (the Craigslist guy stuffed her into the box when he thought I wasn’t looking!) put the rooster in his place and seemed to assume top of the pecking order!

Months later, one unfortunate bird from the hobos got eaten by something, feathers were spread high and low, and Husband volunteered to hoick what was left into the bushes with the longest-handled shovel we have, bless his heart. I don’t ask him to do many of the chicken jobs as it was my idea (well actually, it was a friend’s idea but I ran with it) to get the bloody birds, but it very nice of him to help and, of course, I do not mind at all not doing nasty jobs involving carcasses.

Fast forward to a few months ago, and I was locking up the chicken house and collecting the eggs, or intending to collect the eggs, I opened the hatch to the nesting boxes and one of the Sunny Twins was sitting on what I assumed to be a bunch of eggs, egad! I was flabbergasted, for no other reason than I didn’t know what I should be doing, and I sort of felt a bit pervy because I stood around looking at her for a long time. Eventually I went back inside empty handed, resolving to get the eggs when I let the birds out in the morning. But I didn’t. I decided to let her have a chance with the eggs, and so I left her the eggs and watched her scuttle back to the nesting box after breakfast every morning, and started watching the calendar when it was nearly 3 weeks later. I did mark the eggs, so that when one of the others decided to scoot in with her – and they did almost everyday – I would know which one to take in for my breakfast. During all this Amelia, who is an Americana, had been flying out of the orchard and nesting wherever she saw fit, from under the bedroom deck (we wired it up quick smart as soon as I cleaned out the 27 eggs she had put in there), to the front garden (14 eggs), a side garden (9) and finally back in the nesting box when the Sunny started brooding, so Amelia stopped for a few days, and then started again in the outdoor nesting box. I was so thankful that there were no predators around nabbing those eggs!!

Originally I think there were 9 eggs, then there were 7, then 4 hatched, 1 got pecked by the chicks and Mama Sunny and I turfed the last one into the bushes, encouraging all those nasty predators I had been so worried about. Oh my goodness were they adorable!! I would stand around for 10 minutes all the time watching the chicks climb out from under Mama and wobble around. I lowered in some chick feed and a small water dish, and watched them grow everyday.

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One of the babies fell out of the nesting box, right around the time I was googling “when are they big enough to leave the nest”. I still didn’t want to touch the birds – sure they were babies, but still *shudder* and also I’m sure the Sunny would peck my eyeballs out. By the end of the day I had decided to get the long-handled shovel and scoop up that baby and pop it back in the box, but Mama Sunny had all the babies out in the yard when I went out to the orchard! Hooray! Problem solved.

We built a ramp for them to get back to the box, but Mama Sunny made a nest on the floor, and everyone lived happily ever after.

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But then we went overseas for nearly 3 weeks, and while we had a house sitter, I didn’t ask him to send me daily pics of the babies, so when we came home (luckily they were all still alive) they were huge! Also, they were no longer with the Sunny, but were always with – and even sleep in the nesting box with – Mabel, the old lady chicken who is apparently their adopted grandmother. The chicks are still cheeping, but they are 3 months old so it won’t be long before they are clucking or cock-a-dooing instead, and yet they still all sleep with Mabel. It’s endearing, really.

The point, is that I love my birds, not even reluctantly anymore. We lost our baby last year mid-pregnancy, and while we had our support network, it was so relaxing and comforting to watch my chickens grow. It was so much fun to just sit and watch them in the little box I made for them from an old cupboard, and take the air temp and adjust the lamp for them. Then we moved them outside and I sat in the fold-ups for ages, just watching them squabble and scratch and snooze their days away. Soon after our loss my Dad built them a bigger house in the orchard, and when I acquired the hobos I built an extention, so now they have the pink wing and the yellow wing. Mabel and the babies Kate Winslet, Muttley, Rhett Butler and Isabella sleep in the nesting box of choice, while the rooster Buffy sleeps in the pink wing with Scarlett, Amelia and the Sunny twins; Bill Murray, Ella and Willow sleep in the yellow wing.

The boys occasionally ask for a pet dog, and while there are a bunch of reasons why the answer is no, I also remind them that we have pets already.

I dig vintage

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(Boys are watching Dumbo, so I keep getting distracted.)

I had an opportunity to duck off for a bit today and head to Astoria. I was told that there were a few antique stores on the main road and while we have been to the coast every year for the last 3 years, I think, we have never made it to Astoria save to drive through.

I didn’t have much time to explore so I am sure I missed out on seeing beautiful old houses and restored buildings and whatnot plus whatevers down on the waterfront, but I did have a sneaky peek in some of the shops and find a lovely pair of pink earrings for myself.

What I really like finding are gorgeous vintage slips and nightgowns, and what I rarely have the pleasure of finding are well-fitting dresses, although a miracle did occur a few weeks ago in the shape of a 50s black dress. And a happy coincidence has just thrown up a dinner party so that I could actually wear said miracle, eeeeeee!

Aurora has been my biggest success story when it comes to vintage – I had a shopping morning on Mother’s Day, and I found quite the handful of vintage hankerchiefs, plus two pairs of stunning earrings. I am actually wearing one of the pairs in my selfie at the top of the page.

Since I have had such luck recently finding vintage nightgowns, I would like to use one of the less pretty slips that I already own inside a dress that I have added tulle to, from my WEDDING VEIL of all things! Yes, it reads correctly, I have butchered my wedding veil in order to repurpose it.

( Dumbo has been turned into a clown, at this point.)

Husband and I renewed our wedding vows in December 2012 – on the day that was to be the end of the world, as it so happened – and after the ‘quick and dirty’ turned out to be not so quick or dirty for the ceremony, I opened the storage box to check out my wedding dress… But I didn’t really like it anymore, oh woe! Months later I have decided to do something useful and pretty with my dress, rather than just leave it to rot in tissue and cardboard. So… I am trying my hand with the veil first – onto a dress that has a very wide seam on which to sew, but it still needs a liner, and that is where the older and less pretty vintage slip comes in. *phew!*

(Dumbo has apparently flown up into a tree.)

Now to vintage shoes – I am not super fussed on sweaty shoes from decades before, which is silly really, since I am wearing someone else’s nightgown, but there it is. However, presuming I found the right pair then things might be different. But, i recently discovered Muffy’s website for saddle shoes, which I just love, so at some point I may be able to get to Vernonia and check out their stock. Like, perhaps tomorrow, on the way back from the coast… I shall have to make the suggestion while Husband sleeps, like the mouse did to the ring master in Dumbo, genius!

Lady Chats

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It is so nice to be able to talk to another grown woman who understands, if not has experienced all the things one goes through, as a wife and mother, stay at home parent and all the rest of our Titles.

i think we talked for 3hours about travelling husbands, raising boys sans travelling husbands, sports and sporting husbands, extra curricular school activities, books and our own time as well. My friend has retired and is trying to find something to do, besides travel with her husband and read, and while I am at the other end – possibly or probably having to work soon to help pay for school – finding something to do will be the hard part. My friend can do anything she wants if she can find what she wants, since she doesnt feel she needs to do things with her kids as much anymore, while I will have to find something to do so I can get paid. Hmmm.  Perhaps I can find something that I like and get paid for it… We do not buy lottery tickets often enough for that to be a pseudo realistic option.

As a stay at home parent I always worry about my parenting style, kids behaviours and if I am doing too much or not enough, but I must give myself more credit than I do, so I might worry less. Many people have said that the boys are well behaved, which I do know, but that also they are very happy and that I seem to hold it all together very well. I need to remember that so when it falls apart a little its okay, and even though knowing other people have the same trials doesn’t help at the time, it can still be comforting after the fact when cabin fever or etc has passed.

And that is also comforting to talk about with people who understand.

Summer Siestas

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My boys do not watch a lot of television – we have too many toys, a multitude of books and an expansive backyard. When our eldest – who prides himself on telling people he is “almost 6 AND A HALF” – became proficient sans training wheels, he would go out to the garage first thing and ride his bike (we did have a few issues with the house alarm, though, egad!). It has also been reading books, cars, trains and now it is lego, and I expect it will stay lego for the forseeable future. But the point is, that there has never been a demand for tv first thing in the morning or through much of the day, until now. We have always been lucky enough to have a house big enough where the television is not in our main living or playing area, so it is also a case of out of sight, out of mind. But this summer, with the 90s knocking on the doors and boys getting old enough to beg off naps, they have watched way too much tele. Legos, for the joy they inspire, also inspire competitive building to the point of fisticuffs in my 2-6.5 yo age group, and when combined with napless boys, ends with time outs and boohoos more often that not. So out comes the tv shows. And I have to say that I really enjoy Ninjago, and was more than a little disappointed when i heard the other day that it won’t be continued after this season, woe!  But that is besides the point. Too much television! Sometimes in the afternoon and sometimes before bed – not on the same day, thankfully, but too much regardless. And we made it to the beach yesterday after much faffing about, and the boys are watching tv this morning, oh dear. But it’s cold outside and too early for the sand, not everyone has had breakfast yet and I refuse to go anywhere until after I have a shower, damn it! Excuses, excuses.

I cannot wait until September when school has started (6.5yo in first grade and everyday school, oh my!) and we are back to our busy schedule, which will not include much tv at all, especially if Ninjago is no more. 

To the beach!

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Tomorrow we are going to the Oregon coast, which is awesome but probably not going to be warm, or that “beachy”. In Australia, going to the beach means sunscreen, towels, hats, umbrellas and sand. Going to the Oregon coast for the first and consecutive times was nice but did not give me that “beachy” feeling, because there is rarely sun, rare swimming, and even the sand is cold. Last time my 2 eldest played in the sand while I tried to crawl inside the borrowed wagon and wrap myself in my flimsy cardigan to get out of the wind, woe!

But this weekend will be awesome because there should (operative word) be some good weather, we are meeting up with some friends, plus we are taking our bikes and should be able to ride them more than once every single day. Hooray!

Husband

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We are not always on the same page, in fact, sometimes we shit each other to figurative tears, but mostly we are on the same page. Case in point – naming this blog. Husband is in Alaska but sent me a name suggestion for this blog which was exactly what I was thinking of using! This happens weekly, and I love that.