tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42537852925094180962024-03-14T04:57:19.205+11:00Other Duties As RequiredAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.comBlogger101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-54659807244933717922014-03-11T10:58:00.000+11:002014-03-11T10:58:44.792+11:00Frozen
Supernerd's sister is known as Auntie Lolo, because when Mars was small that was the best approximation of her name he could manage.
Auntie Lolo loves her nephew and niece very much, and sometimes when her rostered day off coincides with school holidays, she meets us at the cinema and we all see a movie together. Mars and Venus look forward to these outings so much that Venus will ask me Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-19353261771136776652013-10-26T08:40:00.000+11:002013-10-26T08:40:18.780+11:00How time flies
This week marks the tenth anniversary of the birth of my son, and the first anniversary of the death of my Dad.
It's been a very hard week.
Last year I barely even got to see Mars on his birthday. All he knew was that his Grandpa was sick, and I was helping his Nana. As this anniversary has come around, I'm sure he doesn't remember that. I'm sure he doesn't connect these two events in the Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-25384007232166655722013-05-10T21:36:00.000+10:002013-05-10T21:36:23.934+10:00Beanbags
I've just written on Facebook "Don't let kids help you fill beanbags. Just don't."
I was going to write "don't fill beanbags with kids" but I thought people might wonder why I was trying to cram my kids into beanbags, so I didn't.
Through a combination of circumstances, we have two new beanbags in the house. In brief, the circumstances are as follows.
Firstly, once long ago we went to Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-63580867666239371972013-02-28T20:49:00.001+11:002013-02-28T20:49:57.404+11:00Echo
The other day Venus, Mars and I were walking back to the car after school. We walked past the empty canteen and, unusually, one of the doors was open. Venus stuck her head through the doorway and shouted "hellooooo" so she could listen to the echo.
It was a pretty impressive echo.
So she did it again, and then called out to Mars, who had already walked past the open door, but was now Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-50107604835296736792013-02-06T22:21:00.000+11:002013-02-06T22:21:19.769+11:00Pancakes
We love pancakes. Some Saturday mornings instead of having breakfast we make a big bowl of pancake batter and we have brunch instead.
Ah, brunch. That wonderful meal where you can throw down fluffy pancakes covered in chocolate syrup, and they're so delicious that you inevitably eat too many and can't eat anything else until about four in the afternoon.
Or perhaps that's just me.
Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-15228933257189212632013-01-29T14:50:00.000+11:002013-01-29T14:54:20.317+11:00The Deck
One of the reasons we bought our house was because we fell in love with the enormous deck that runs right down the side and overlooks a little creek with a bike path running along beside it.
Now, a few years on, the deck needs to be sanded and stained. Supernerd started working on it a while back, but this bit of DIY turned into a drama, and then the drama evolved into a saga. So now we have Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-83227124628285310522012-12-21T21:17:00.000+11:002012-12-21T21:17:29.525+11:00Christmas Stories
This is one of our family's favourite Christmas anecdotes.
When Mars was small I bought a sturdy wooden nativity set. I wanted something solid so that he could play with it. When his sister got big enough they started to play with it together. Their favourite character was baby Jesus.
The Christmas when she was three and he was six we got out the nativity set and put it all together Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-76578264139818067122012-12-20T23:00:00.000+11:002012-12-20T23:00:57.597+11:00The First Christmas
This is going to be our first Christmas without Dad, and it's not going to be easy. In fact I'm dreading it, but I'm trying to stay focused on making it a special time for our children and my nephews.
I normally love Christmas. It has deep spiritual meaning for me, and while I realise that's not how everyone feels, I also love that Christmas sometimes brings out the best in people who Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-61853928547120388062012-11-26T13:57:00.000+11:002012-12-20T11:09:49.571+11:00The Star Wars Party
I promised my son a Star Wars party and I promised you a cardboard box creation.
This time the boxes all came from Auntie Leanne, who moved house recently and brought home boxes from her workplace. This worked out really well for me, as I then had three boxes the same size and I used another single box which was kind of short and stocky.
The great thing about three boxes the same Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-78971525679592775112012-11-05T22:56:00.000+11:002012-11-05T22:56:37.374+11:00Cardboard Boxes
People say that cats love cardboard boxes but let me tell you, cats hate cardboard boxes compared to how much I love them.
I collect them, I store things in them, I never want to throw them out just in case they might be useful for something.
My favourite thing to do with cardboard boxes is to build with them.
Earlier this year the X-Man had a pirate birthday party. So I got myself a Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-10307637462644139742012-11-05T22:41:00.000+11:002012-11-05T22:41:18.339+11:00Dad
My Dad is gone. Just like that.
One big heart attack, and several smaller ones while the lovely firemen and ambulance officers tried to keep his heart going, and then thirty six hours later in hospital the machines were all turned off and he slipped away. He was only 62 years old.
That was about two weeks ago and I can only now start talking about it, or thinking about it, without Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-66512898113733939282012-09-12T16:49:00.000+10:002012-09-12T16:49:13.515+10:00Time
Okay, let's skip the part where I feel guilty about blogging so infrequently and get right down to business.
I heard two stories this week that reminded me about the funny ways in which children view time. A week is an eternity when you're waiting for your birthday to roll around, and nobody could be expected to wait another three months for Christmas to come, but several hours spent playing Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-25457825890135304602012-06-05T22:45:00.000+10:002012-06-05T22:45:27.315+10:00Vegetarian
We chat over dinner every night. Sometimes we listen to music. Sometimes we don't. But we always chat.
Venus can be a bit minimalist about her food at times. Tonight while she was tucking into her naked pasta with cheese she asked us what a vegetarian is.
We explained that a vegetarian is someone who doesn't eat meat. We talked about vegetarians, carnivores and omnivores. We listed all theAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-39786375844468285182012-05-01T16:45:00.000+10:002012-05-01T16:45:14.063+10:00The cryptic world of the X-Man
Today I picked up Mars, Venus and X-Man from school. X-Man was very excited.
"Alison, Alison, guess where I'm going tonight!"
"Where are you going, X-Man?"
"After Mummy picks me up, I'm going to conganboscos."
"I see. Do you mean taekwando?"
"No." he replies insistently. "Conganboscos. I'm going to do karate."
He is actually going to do taekwando tonight, but somehow in Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-15731395308427717272012-04-20T13:51:00.000+10:002012-04-20T13:51:56.507+10:00ImportantYesterday I had lunch at a local cafe with a dear friend of ours, Auntie Marvellous. That's not her real name of course, and strictly speaking she's not Mars and Venus' Auntie, but she really is marvellous.
Anyway this cafe, it's nice, but it's not super nice. Main courses range in price from $15ish to $30ish, and it's been recently renovated, so it looks swanky and new.
As we were chatting and Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-26777692358946360722012-04-05T13:18:00.000+10:002012-04-05T13:18:53.735+10:00Venus and the Tooth Fairy
During her second week of school Venus lost her first tooth. It had been wobbly for at least a week, and we knew it was just a matter of time before it was ready to come out.
As you would expect her teacher, obviously very experienced at dealing with a child who has just lost their first tooth without their parents in sight, did everything right. She gave Venus a tissue to bite on, as there wasAlisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-56471357803886728142012-02-19T23:49:00.000+11:002012-02-19T23:49:14.631+11:00What you missedI'm sure I'm not the world's least reliable blogger, but allow me to reassure you of the rising levels of guilt I've been experiencing lately over the fact that my most recent blog post was published in November of last year. Oh, and don't look over to the left of screen and notice that I published half the number of posts last year as the year before. I just did, and I wish I hadn't.
So, Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-33047740518300075942011-11-10T13:48:00.000+11:002011-11-10T13:48:10.180+11:00Her four best jokesVenus is at that brilliant age (five and a bit) where she finds lame jokes hysterically funny, and she seems to be able to remember a lot of them.
She told me her four best jokes. I know they are her four best jokes, because they were preceded by:
"Mummy, would you like to hear my four best jokes?"
"Yes please."
"Why did the cow cross the road?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"Because it wanted to go to Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-23036352759992074842011-10-23T21:16:00.000+11:002011-10-23T21:16:14.895+11:00Junior MasterchefOur kids don't watch a lot of television, and neither do we, really. But I've been wanting to check out Masterchef for a while, not having ever watched it before.
Several weeks ago I saw that a new series of Junior Masterchef was about to start, and I thought this might be a great way to get the kids watching something new and interesting, and I'd watch with them.
We recorded the first two Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-84921353719322445552011-10-08T23:57:00.000+11:002011-10-08T23:57:39.216+11:00Zucchini meanieA little while ago I was putting Venus to bed when she started telling me about the zucchini meanie.
Apparently her Pooh Bear wears a bodysuit to bed, just like Bumblebee, and this bodysuit is covered in pictures of animals.
She pointed to a random spot on this invisible bodysuit and told me "this is a zucchini meanie."
"Oh," I said. "What's a zucchini meanie?"
"Well, it's a lot like a giraffe, Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-22971970148478345602011-09-22T14:28:00.002+10:002011-09-22T16:40:58.626+10:00Stars and chickensI have long been remiss in not mentioning the Star family. We have known them for many years and they are very dear to us.
Mrs Star is actually Dr Star, and Mr Star is from Brazil. In addition to being Venus' Godparents, they have three gorgeous girls of their own. Jellybean will be eight soon and is at school with Mars. She is lithe, loves gymnastics and excells at it. Miss Mouse is five, Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-33779649878276164112011-09-13T14:36:00.001+10:002011-09-13T14:37:13.710+10:00Heather's hatHeather simply despises her haircut.
At least, that's what her facebook status said many months ago. A hairdresser inflicted an unflattering bob on my friend, and she was not happy. So I did what any knitter would do. I offered to make her a hat.
That was before winter. It is now spring, but the hat is finished. Well... almost finished.
We agreed on a felted grey cloche. The first wool I bought Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-82564629971981813812011-09-07T21:52:00.000+10:002011-09-07T21:52:11.540+10:00Wrong numberSupernerd and I have lived in five houses together. One house we lived in had the old phone number of a dojo somewhere, so we used to get the occasional confused person trying to book in for a class or find out our opening hours. That was entertaining.
Another place we lived had a number very similar to a nearby restaurant. At odd hours of the day and night we'd get phone calls for them too.
A Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-88066791315043794192011-08-31T10:58:00.000+10:002011-08-31T10:58:17.361+10:00Mixed up wordsI love the wonderful ways in which little kids can get their words mixed up.
For a long time Venus would say wetting instead of wedding. The words "Mummy, how many days until Libby and George's wetting?" uttered many many times leading up to the actual event, turned out to be somewhat prophetic as it poured rain for most of that day and the ceremony had to be held indoors rather than out in the Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4253785292509418096.post-59842228076730861362011-08-24T22:07:00.000+10:002011-08-24T22:07:30.260+10:00Family treeSometimes Mars amazes me with his complete lack of consideration for others, but at other times he really impresses me with his thoughtfulness and kindness.
He brought home from school a drawing of a family tree which featured ovals labelled "Me", "Mum", "Dad", "Mum's Mum" and so on. We had a week to print some pictures of the family, glue them on and send it back to school.
But there was a Alisonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13536441491941553523noreply@blogger.com0