This one time on Craft Camp...

I need to tell you all about craft camp.

About going on a plane, getting picked up by Janet, almost having a car accident (so not our fault).

Meeting everyone for the first time.

Getting to hug Sooz after having spent weeks chatting with her on skype, twitter, email and the phone (the phone!) about fabric and patterns and body shape and life and no you have up first, no you hang up, no you, ok on three. 

About going to bed when I wanted to and waking up when I woke up not because someone woke me up, or someone wanted breakfast, or someone had wet the bed, or someone wanted a bottle and OH MY GOD I just want the weekend again just for a night of unbroken sleep and waking up when I want to. 

About how awesomely good it was just to sit around with a bunch of women talking, laughing, sewing.

But then I don't want to. 

As if talking about it will somehow dilute the experience. Or something. 

It was fantastic.

I finished the rest of the blocks for Jasper's quilt.

I started making a shirtdress. I've done the placket (yeah, I'll wait while you go look that up), the collar, the darts and only need to make the sleeves and attach them. 

Compared to the industry of others this output was positively pathetic.

On my return the boys were all standing waiting for me, looking all anticipatory. And then, they saw me and ran toward me, almost bowling me over. OH MAN, boysmell has never been so good. 

And so life goes on.  

Five things...

things I like:
Finding cheap-arse fabrics I like at Spotlight AND buying dress patterns for the first time ever
Jamie Oliver's tour of the USA TV series
This goats cheese chevre I found at Harris Farm
Starting a new quilt
fresh salads with fetta and nuts

not so much:
heat
my world being completely dictacted by the agendas and needs of others
mediating
listening to completely ridiculous sibling squabbles
money or lack thereof

things I saw yesterday:
too many rather large hunstman spiders for my liking thank you very much
the inside of our most stupidly designed compost bin - it was as gross as you are imagining
a shitload of soil being moved by Chef and myself (half a tonne I do believe)
Grover asleep on the lounge
Jasper asleep on the lounge

things that are wearing out quickly:
hot weather - and it's not even officially summer yet (thank GOODNESS I don't live in Melbourne or Adelaide which have been enduring heatwaves for the last fortnight or Narromine where it's already been in the 40s)
Grover being toilet trained to wee and poo on the back verandah rather than in the toilet
my patience with too many things
my not drinking alcohol self-instigated rule, what can I say, so much easier to follow in winter
my willingness to clean

things to be happy about:
cheap fabric from Spotlight
Felix naming his quilt Gizmo
the weird gastro virus that has been affecting all of us to varying degrees for the last two months seems to have finally passed
in S.I.X. sleeps I will be meeting some of my online friends for the first time AND attending my first ever CRAFT CAMP
that craft camp will be the first time I have been away on my own ever since having children, and given my current cranky state of mind it could not have come at a better time.

hair today, gone today

Is there anything more liberating than getting all your hair cut off?

Grover, 2yrs 4mths

old friends, new experiences, milestones

Today one of my dearest friends from school came over. We had not seen each other in ten years. We had not even talked that much or corresponded very much in that time. And yet today, she walked through the door (a darn sight THINNER), we gave each other a huge hug and then started talking. Four hours later she left.

Old friendships are a wondrous thing aren't they? As we discussed our families and our respective ups and downs over the years it got me thinking. So much has happened to us and indeed we have probably changed quite a lot but at the same time having her sit in my kitchen using the same mannerisms and hearing her laugh just as she had all those years ago was just infinitely comforting.

She has recently bought a house relatively nearby and I am just so tickled to know we're going to be able to see each other on a more regular basis.

Now, if I could just get K to move to Sydney ...
*****
Yesterday I had a day sans children so I took myself into Surry Hills to check out some fabric shops. As you do.

I know. What an idiot.

Tessuti's is one of those places I could hang out in all day. The most glorious fabrics, GLORIOUS, in a shop that is both buzzing and quiet all at the same time. It's kind of like a library but with cloth.

I sat there for over an hour looking at pattern books and then probably about the same amount of time looking at fabric. It was exciting and awful all at the same time. All I wanted was for Suse, Sooz or Muppinstuff to just magically appear and natter with me and point out what would work or what wouldn't, to laugh and be silly about my tension headache and to just make it more fun. That or to call Eleanor and escape it all together and go eat pastries somewhere.

I was looking at it all with the intention of finding a pattern for a frock to m.a.k.e. to wear to the wedding of some wonderful friends in February. I want something simple yet a statement and that I did not spend the whole day either adjusting or not moving my arms (almost a physical impossibility) because of pit marks.

But of course, having this intention on top of actually sewing an item of clothing being an entirely new experience  - because quite frankly the blue screen printed flamingos I did on a pink cotton, elastic-waisted sack skirt we made in Year 7 doesn't count - meant I was kind of paralysed by indecision, no working knowledge of patterns and the whole weight of the 'it must be perfect!' attitude I naturally bestow to any activity I am attempting for the first time.

And weird things happened to me. Like I saw this and just fell in love with it:

I mean, it's pink and floral for God's sake.

But it had this weight to it and a sheen smoothness  (even though it was 100% cotton) that made me incapable of not stroking it. To the point it was almost creepy.

And this

was called parrots or some such, even though I couldn't see parrots in it .But it was a very dark navy and the background was an off-white cream kind of colour. Again, just delightful but hello, my brain was in some sort of disassociative state from the body it was clearly going to have to cover.

I absolutely fell in love with these:

Imagine them sewn along the hem or neckline of a dress? Talk about turning a dress into a statement! I still think I might get some of this. Just to have.

I know. I don't know who I am any more either.

This was exquisite:

And made me want to make a ballgown in some 50s sort of feel.

This was also gorgeous on a far more contemporary scale and after chatting with Sooz late - and I mean L.A.T.E last night - I think I might get some to make a little straight skirt. Well, by little I mean not flared. Because me, I'm pushing maximum density (once again) over here.

But through all of this I was so tense because while there were a few dresses I kind of liked none of them screamed 'this is perfect!' which, as we have established is a bit of a mantra for me.

See these linens?

I want a kicky little shift dress in every single one. Get on to that will you.
  
So I had a debrief with Sooz last night because I was not feeling positive about the whole experience. And she said something to me she'd already said once before but I am a bit slow when it comes to hearing the advice. I know. Half way to solving a problem is recognising you have one. Shut up already.

I realised a far better way to be approaching this is to simply be looking to make a dress. Any dress! Sure, preferably one I will wear but lets not even pin our hopes on that. And from there, let's look at the wedding outfit possibilities. Sweet.

So, I'm going to buy me some cheap and nasty linen from SpitSpotlight and make myself a frock. If I like making the frock I may even make another one.
*****
Grover is basically toilet trained. I know! It was all his decision and yes, he is really quite partial to doing a wee in the garden rather than in the toilet and - apparently - the best place to do a poo is on the back verandah on the car playmat but you know, he hasn't worn a nappy during the day for more than two weeks.

Now, normally I'd be singing the praises of this event but it has coincided with us moving him to a normal bed and him deciding to drop his day sleep.

I'll just let that last point sit with you for a minute.

But the moving into a normal bed - we're doing this because I'm bored of cots. There's been a cot in this house for over a decade and I'm ready to see the back of them. Also, I was getting really sick of him just yelling at me from his cot when he wanted to get up - like some warped butler service.

I no, so dumb.

It has totally turned his sleeping routine on its head. Before when it'd take over an hour for him to go to sleep (just as it used to take Felix at that age) he'd just roll around in his cot and tell himself tall tales of adventures passed. Now he just gets up and gives me the absolute shits.

I'm so over it but going back to a cot is not worth the tantrums and tears either.

Yes people, case study of stupid woman who hasn't learnt anything by Child #4.

And the day sleep. OH MY GOD people. I am mourning the passing of the day sleep. Sure, Felix dropped his at 18 months but Jasper spoilt me by keeping his up until about 3 1/2. Oh sure, Grover will have a sleep but it won't happen until mid-afternoon and then he'll happily snooze away - just to be nice and refreshed for the night time performance of killing his mother slowly by being up until 10.30.

He won't go down for a sleep mid-morning or lunchtime so there's no point trying. But then by 3-4pm he's wretched - for himself and those around him.

Hello rock, let me introduce you to hard place. Let's dance!

An open apology

It has come to my attention that my commenting on other people's blogs has dropped off dramatically.

Stop it.

I know I know.

You missed me. No NO,  you didn't have to say anything, I felt your pain.

And look, it is not an excuse just an insight into why my pithy thoughtful comments such as threatening to kill you with a tray have been so lacking.

It's Google Reader.

That's right.

The whole having to click through to your actual websites, then click on the comment button, then make my erudite summations is just.so.taxing.

*snore*

In which I discuss some lady issues

Oh sure, Badger may have cornered the market on how to handle the flow but I'm here to tell you about how to manage the mood.

For you see, by the time you factored in my pre-menstrual tension, my menstrual-crankiness and my post-menstrual anger Chef and those around me were lucky to score about five days of me being relatively stable and gee, happy.

A lot of that pre-, during- and post- symptoms were greatly lessened even eradicated through the intensive breeding program that has been my life. But over the last couple of months I've noticed it returning to the point that by September I was positively vile to all and sundry. Road raging, angry at the universe, cursing the clothes for not hanging properly, yelling at the kids for yelling at each other or me (so so futile) were Top of the Pops in the allconsuming household.

So I mentioned it to M primarily in the context of coming off one of my meds and that perhaps my premenstrual rage was worse being off that particular drug.

He suggested an all-out attack on The Sydrome:
4 fish oil tablets (400mg minimum of EPA  per tablet) daily
3 evening primrose tablets per day
1 Mega B executive stress tablet per day

This was based on research undertaken that had established that fish oil is very effective in managing mood, particularly in conjunction with anti-depressants. We discussed a study that had been undertaken in which long term sufferers of depression who had been otherwise unresponsive to anti-depressants were put on a course of high-DHA fish oil supplements and anti-depressants. Those taking the fish oil and a placebo experienced a 30% improvement in mood while those on the anti-depressants and fish oil registered something like an 80% improvement. That's in a cohort of people that had otherwise been drug-resistant (as in the anti-depressants had not worked, side-affects had been too severe etc). Impressive hey.

There is still debate over the dosage - some say 1mg some say 3mg.

The evening primrose is well established as a PMT treatment and the executive stress vitamin B supplement would be good for managing my stress regardless.

The idea was to start taking it holus bolus half way through my cycle and to see if it made any difference.

Well, let's just say my little monthly friend arrived bang on time and compared to my normal ball of fire fury I'd barely managed a smolder.

For me the clincher on this formula being a winner has been the fact that if I have been angry or stressed or cranky it hasn't lasted longer than acceptable for such a state of mind (minutes as opposed to hours if not days) and I have also been able to lift myself out of such a mindset much more easily than previously.

Not bad huh.

      

This Saturday

will see a family reunion for my Mum's family.

There will be:
My mum and her five brothers and sisters
Two of their husband/wives (two divorces, two not coming due to ill health/age)
Me and my thirteen cousins
Nine of their partners (some still single, mine working breakfast,lunch, dinner at a paid job)
My four and the other nine grandchildren - aged from 11 years to 10 months

That makes FORTY FOUR people.

I'm catering for the whole thing. Don't get me wrong. I'm not doing for  a martydom, I'm doing it because I am a control freak and I absolutely detest large gatherings where everyone 'brings a plate' and so you end up with some weird multi-cultural hodgepodge of dishes. It's been fun working out the menu due to the plethora of eating issues and allergies and so on.

But I must confess, when Mum said she wanted to do it neither of us ever thought everyone would come. Ever.

Family are gathering from Wollongong, Bathurst, Melbourne and Sydney. I mean, people are travelling, with small children, from Melbourne. If my Aunt in Melbourne was hosting this I'm not sure I could say we would have been going so I truly appreciate their efforts to come.

It's the first time the entire family would have been together since my Nan died five years ago.

Isn't that something!

The menu:
Dips and turkish bread (from the awesome Lebanese place in Frenchs Forest - of all places!)
Cheese plate w/ lavosh
Antipasto of vegetarian options

Baked ham
Spinach, pine nut, roasted pumpkin and feta salad
Five bean salad with lemon and poppy seed dressing
Asparagus and ricotta tart*
Leek and goats cheese tart*

Pavlova
Fruit Cake (the next day is my Aunt's 70th and my Mum also retired this year... after 45 years teaching.)

Lemon shortbread
Macaroons

(* with a gluten free pastry a la Maggie Beer)


So I'm off like a bride's nightie to start baking and to perhaps try and clean this house up a bit.

Crazy zebras are on the loose!

Can we all nod and agree on the cold hard reality that pretty much the entire decade (cut me some slack, two decades is just too depressing to contemplate) from the age of around 8 to 18 is not about becoming and being a teenager but about being a tormentor.

While parents are drip-fed the torment in the form of constant requests for expensive toys and designer clothes and complicated dinners with a splash of impressive tantruming, door-slamming and wall-thumping and a smattering of impressive displays of just how far they brain has yet to develop, tormentors store most of their tricks for their siblings.

Think the screaming of statements of fact like:
STOP LOOKING AT ME!
WHAT?!
GOD (insert sibling name here)
YOU'RE SO ANNOYING
WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO DO WHAT I'M DOING???
MAAAAAAHHHHHHUUUUUUUUM, (insert sibling's name here)'s ANNOYING ME (like their behaviour and presence is just so delightfully scintillating and enjoyable)

Cast your mind back to physical signs of love and affection such as:
- the shove just because you were walking past
- the rumble that was so borderline assault you still wear the scars, mental and physical
- the face in your face telling you to get out of their face even though they just thrust their face into yours not visa versa
- the sharing of some food stuff whereby you get 1/16th and they get the rest but then collapse in a flail of 'how unfairs' when your parent gave you something else to make up for their mathematical remedialcy
- the.relentless.teasing.

Is it any wonder that by the time we reach adulthood and think our parents are completely lame they probably are after years of soul cobbling from enduring all this and trying to mediate it for years and years on end.

It is actually quite amazing that more parents are not bitter lunatics looking for revenge when, after all that they watch their offspring suddenly discover they quite like each other and start going to the pub or nightclub together and start secreting rolling-eyes and particular faces at each other when parents try to strike up a conversation about what they've been up to.

You know the parents who are getting their own back? Those mums who go clubbing with their daughters and dance around their handbag on the dance floor like it's 1999 that's who.

It is in the framework of this parental experience that I share with you the following incident.

Felix is particularly skilled at the sibling taunt and torment with the final scene an impressive display of self-righteous indignation along the lines of, 'BUT HE WAS ANNOYING ME'. This is always so perfectly in proportion to what has gone before when his sibling has basically entered the room after a shower to get dressed.

Following several months, nay years, of Felix carrying on like this and many many many discussions with him (both in the heat of the incident and at the far more effective time of later one) about how it isn't acceptable and how if he is feeling particularly frustrated with a sibling (let's face it, 98 per cent of the time we're talking about Oscar) there are strategies and actions he can engage to help him.

This of course results in a period of time varying from three minutes to even a couple of weeks of marked improvement in sibling relations until we begin the steady decline once more to another Ground Zero of Screamy McScreamy Tormentor Pants.

So imagine this. The regular nightly event called showering is taking place. Felix has finished and Oscar is getting in. This swap over coupled with the cleaning of teeth can basically never transpire without some form of contest, conflict or contact. Clearly, the idea of simply getting your towel and letting your brother pass is clearly so laughable, so ludicrous I'm not sure why I struggle with it being such the warzone it is.

On this particular evening I was actually in a good, even humorous, mood. So I cajoled Felix and for about the first time ever actually used a swear word while talking to him:

Me: "Felix, you are, what many people in the real world would call, a shit stirrer."

Felix: "What does that mean?"  

Me: "Well, imagine if you will all the turds sitting in the bottom of the toilet bowl. They're happily minding their own stinky business, sitting their, stinking it up and generally feeling OK with the world. Then along comes Felix with a big wooden stick and stirs them all around." (Imagine this with me doing quite impressive actions and Oscar finding it hilarious while in the shower) "So all the happy little turds suddenly are all 'WOAH! What's going on, what's happening, I'm feeling all weird" (Imagine some impressive jazz hands with crazy hands and whole body conniptions that a turd must feel when flushed down the s-bend)

Felix: Wailing, flailing, storming off to his room, "NOBODY LOVES ME!!!!!" (cue door slam)

Me: Not being one to shy away from tormenting my children because people, revenge? such a cure, go and force the door open. Sticking my head around the corner I go "ba ba ba BOO!". Several times.

There is general laughing through his indignant tears at this stage.

I force my way in.

Me: "Felix, you know I love you more than I can ever ever express to you, but there are times when you have to accept that it is your behaviour, not that of your brothers, which is causing the incident. What was it that Oscar was doing that made you so angry?"

Felix: "He was annoying me."

Me: "No. That was how he made you feel. What was he actually doing that made you feel annoyed."

Felix: "He was looking at me."

Me: on the inside: belting him around the head with a dead stinky fish because OH.MY.GOD.
Me: to Felix: "Right. And instead of yelling and screaming and pushing him, did it occur to you to simply turn around? Or perhaps leave the bathroom area?

Felix: silence.

Me: "Felix, I know that a lot of things Oscar does and how Oscar is are very frustrating and annoying for you. There are aspects of Oscar that I find really frustrating and annoying. Do you know how hard that is? For a parent? To admit that about their child? But you know what? That is who he is. That was how he was born. And - as we have talked about many times before - you simply can not change people to suit you. BUT you can change how you respond and interact with them. So what are some of the things you can do?

Felix: "Ask him to stop."

Me: "Yes, what else?"

Felix: "Move away."

Me: "Yes, what else?" realising that yes, this child truly is the son of the father.

Felix: "Ask a grown up for help"

Imagine fireworks, fanfare!

Me: "Exactly. So how about we develop a code word or a saying which you can use when Oscar is getting in your face or you feel like you're about to lose it with him so I can come and help you out?"

And, not a word of a lie, the i.n.s.t.a.n.t. reply from Felix?

Felix: "How about 'Crazy zebras are on the loose'."


And so, dear friends, life goes on.

Rollercoasts, swings and roundabouts. That kind of thing.

I think I have mentioned before my underwhelmed emotions about Jasper's kindergarten. That not one staff member used to come and greet him or say goodbye when we arrived and left. That not one staff member ever offered me any information about the kind of day he had or what activity he enjoyed. Still don't unless I ask them. That he has not formed one real friendship and when asked who he played with will quite matter-of-factly tell me he 'played all by myself'.

Here's the thing. I just don't think the staff like the children that much. Don't get me wrong, they care for them, they run a lovely structured program and they tick all the boxes they're meant to when it comes to meeting the government criteria, rules and regulations for a kindergarten.

But it seems to me they are more concerned with writing down what each child is doing and having everything in its place than simply playing with the kids and teaching them through play and fun activities.

I find their barely controlled panic when a child hurts themselves really quite funny - like something has happened that they didn't have in the program!

There was the time I went to open a toy from its wrapper on a table with lots of books on insects and toy bugs and asked the girls if that was OK. Three of them simultaneously cried out 'NO' with the director then offering that its because the pieces might get lost.

Even dust doesn't got lost at this place.

Or the time we weren't there for two weeks and when we returned not one staff member said hello or offered up a cuddle or asked Jasper where he'd been or if he'd had a good holiday.

My shiny happy Jasper is just some flotsam in this place. Other kids are more needy, more in need of assistance, more outspoken in the setting. Jasper just goes about his merry business and they - from all appearances - do nothing to tap into his world.

So why have we left him there all year? Well they do do things with them, it's not like he is neglected. He seems to enjoy it (when he's there) and I needed some down-time. Let's not underestimate this last point. If he had been really unhappy and fought going there I would have pulled him months ago, but that just hasn't been the case.

We are SO relieved we got a place in a wonderful pre-school for him next year. A centre which just screams it is for the children, with not an inch of wall space or even ceiling space free of the kids' artworks and creations. Where I've seen staff scoop children up and kids run to staff to tell them things or for a cuddle. Where there is an energy and a joy about being a part of these children's lives.

So while we've just been celebrating the world according to Jasper, what with him turning four and all, today Chef came home from dropping him off with a parent information note about the PALS (Playing And Leaning to Socialise) program and a form to sign for Jasper to be a part of it.

This is a really good program. I remember it from when Oscar was little and I think the kindy ran it there for him and some of his classmates. It is a series of half hour sessions using story telling, songs, games and role-play which work on skills such as greeting others, taking turns talking and listening and at play, sharing, asking for help, identifying feelings, empathy, overcoming fear and anxiety, managing frustration and calming down and speaking up.

But you know what. Just handing the info sheet to a parent with a 'I'd like Jasper to do this' is not good enough. Why? Have there been any situations or events that have made you concerned about him for this to be necessary? If so, why has there been NO discussion with us, his parents, about it - when there are now only EIGHT weeks left in the year?

Don't get me wrong, if any of my children are offered a place in a free educative program I'm taking it - hell, Jasper might come home and be able to model some behaviours for his older brothers to learn. BUT there is a way to go about informing parents of the program and why they think their child would benefit from being involved.

And apart from that, I want to yell at this place that what they see as Jasper's shyness is actually his reflection of how they interact and treat him.

I remember when Felix started at a pre-school his teacher said to me really early on that he was quite happy to play on his own rather than ask to join in and that if another child asked him to join an activity he would but would then just move away after a little while. This was apparently a red flag moment. I pointed out that maybe he didn't want to play whatever it was the other kids were playing and was happier doing the activity he chose to do on his own and that wasn't it better to move away once bored or over it than just lash out at the others or destroy what they were playing or WORSE, stay in the activity even though he didn't want to? Can I point out that at this time he was EIGHTEEN MONTHS OLD.

She also noted that Felix would sometimes go and do something to another child (like take their toy or some such) but that she was perplexed by it. She could see he was not doing it out of spite or naughtiness or malice and that it was obvious he did not want the toy or book or whatever it was to play with. She said to me, 'You know, he's doing it for a laugh. He's got this really developed sense of humour that his peers just don't understand yet.' Well, DERR. Thank goodness she finally 'got' him.

Holy crap people, let's get a grip. Jasper - like Felix and like his father and let's face it, like me - will not engage just for the sake of engagement. He will instigate conversations and games with adults and children alike, but if there isn't someone there he likes/wants to initiate with then he will happily go on his merry way and make his own game or do his own thing.

I'm sorry but I actually see that as a good personal trait.

So look, my shiny happy all singing and dancing and crazy walking and funny faced Jasper is going to do a social skills course. Not because he needs it but because there's not really anyone - adult or child - at this pre-school he particularly likes or wants to play with. I'm not saying this to make myself feel better, I'm saying it because I.know.my.son.

Hell, when he's here he's got three brothers to negotiate - two days at kindy are probably his idea of quiet time when he finally gets to play with something he wants to play with without having some great interloper of a big brother or some pesky gnat of a little brother coming in and sabotaging it.

I just want to tell them that the main reason they see him as shy at kindy is because of how they are with him, not because of who he is.

Idiots.