Dal, Hel & Bel

I always pay for my sleep

2011-09-14T13:23:00.001-07:00

This morning the kitten and Isabel woke me up especially early.

Oh, I didn't tell you about the kitten. Long story short: Found an abandoned 4 week old kitten, took it home because I couldn't bear to worry about it for the rest of my life. Am trying to resist the urge to keep her and have someone come and take her to a new home. I haven't really advertised her yet....

So Isabel wakes up and upon doing so, wakes the kitten up. The kitten mews constantly until I get her some milk. So when Isabel wakes up these days, it means I am well and truly up myself. The usual routine is Isabel up, Kitten up, Kitten mews, I stumble out of bed, I make milk for kitten while Isabel dances around me asking what I want to play, Isabel and I play Isabel's new board game over and over while the kitten eats.

If I'm lucky, I'll make it to 9am before I drag myself back to bed, trying to think of a way to keep Isabel occupied while I attempt a bit more sleep.

This morning, though, I couldn't even make it to 8 o'clock. 7.30 came around and Isabel seemed content to sit and eat her breakfast while she watched tv and I slyly slipped out of the tv room and lay on my bed. I literally passed out.

The next thing I was aware of was Isabel's excited voice piercing through my coma-like state of mind. I looked at the clock. It was 9 o'clock. I couldn't believe it.... I got a good amount of sleep without Isabel interrupting. Panic set in. What had she been doing all that time?!

"Look Mummy! My pyjamas have pockets!"

"Oh that's fun, how did you make your pockets?"

"I found some scissors! I love my pockets!!"

GAH! I HATE scissors. Actually, I'm glad that she didn't cut the kitten up.

Fitting In

2011-08-27T22:11:00.000-07:00

Dal and I were lucky enough to have an executive suite experience at a Diamondback's home game tonight. The perks?.... no obnoxious fans sitting around us (they were all in the plebes seats); free quality food; air-conditioning; and the most important thing to an 8 month pregnant woman..... a private toilet.

But before I knew about our own "special" bathroom, I figured I would take advantage of the ladies toilets that we walked past as we entered the park. I walked in and took the nearest stall to the door (no time to look for the "best" toilet - and don't say you don't know what I'm talking about... you know you look for the best toilet). Unfortunately the Chase Field architects didn't factor in eight month pregnant women coming to the game. They crammed as many stalls into the available space as they could.

Have you ever seen an overly pregnant woman try to suck her gut in? There's not much change in inches between "relaxed" and "sucked in". The stall door scraped my belly as I tried to close it. I was a little concerned that I wouldn't be able to get back out. It didn't turn out as badly as I thought. But you can imagine my relief when I found out I had my own private toilet.... with enough space for ten of me.

I'm thinking of getting Dal to take a photo of me tomorrow - the only one you'll get of me for this pregnancy. I guess it's just not as exciting the second time around. For pregnancy photos please see my Facebook albums of when I was pregnant with Isabel.

My kind of "Love Language"

2011-08-23T22:11:00.000-07:00

Those people who invented the whole love language thing... I think they missed at least one language. What makes my heart pitter patter is the dulcet sounds of this sentence spoken by the sweet love of my life:

"We should have takeout tonight".

Tick Tock

2011-08-10T15:20:00.000-07:00

Isabel usually wakes up between 6am and 7am each morning.

I have told her that I wont play with her or do anything with her until 7am. That is the earliest I can function and that seems to make sense to her.

Recently, though, she has not been happy to just watch tv or play on the computer while she waits. She sits in between Dal and I and tries to wake me by chattering away or just breathing heavily in my face.

This morning wins the prize. She draped herself over my body looking at my bedside table where the little alarm clock sits. Right in my ear she rhythmically chimed over and over "TICK, TOCK, TICK, TOCK, TICK, TOCK." Unfortunately we weren't even close to 7 o'clock.

Boys spit

2011-08-04T08:14:00.000-07:00

Last night as we ate our ice cream, Isabel and I were having a little chat.

I said "You know, Isabel, that when you were smaller you didn't like ice cream. You used to spit it out."

Of course she didn't believe me. She had a bit of a chuckle and then proceeded to talk some nonsense about ice cream, boys, girls and spitting.

Finally I was able to interpret what she was trying to tell me.

"Wait, are you saying that you used to be a boy?"

"Yes. And boys spit."

It all came together. Apparently Isabel was a boy when she was younger. I guess she deduced this by hearing me tell her that she used to spit stuff out. But now she's older, she's turned into a girl and doesn't spit anymore.

I'm not sure how she came to this conclusion because I am constantly telling her to STOP SPITTING!

Sleep

2011-08-02T23:43:00.000-07:00

I live for sleep. I am certain I could sleep 20 hours in the day and still be tired after waking up.

That is why I need my morning naps. As mentioned previously, Isabel likes to sit on my bed playing on my laptop while I have a nap. This morning didn't go so well. I gave her a muesli bar to eat while I napped. I while later I heard her rustling in our bathroom.

"Mummy, where's the wipes?"
"What do you need wipes for, Isabel?"
"To wipe the bed."

Alarms bells start clanging in my head. I look over to Dal's side of the bed and find what can only be chewed up and spat out chocolate chip muesli bar.

"Forget the wipes, I'm going back to sleep. Get a towel and sit on it".

A while later I get a hand slapped right by my head.
"Time to wake up mummy"
"NO! You kept waking me up. Give me 20 more minutes"
"Mummy it's 7 o'clock. Time to wake up."

In actual fact it is 10.30 in the morning. I point that out to her. That doesn't deter her. Isabel grabs my bedside clock and winds the clock back to three.

"See. 7 o'clock. Get up".

Doidy - At my sister's request

2011-08-01T21:26:00.000-07:00

It IS a fairly dormant blog isn't it?

Back when Isabel was learning sounds that didn't mean anything she would repeat over and over "doi, doi, doi, doi". My sisters thought it hilarious and began to call her Doidy. I am certain that Isabel will have the same relationship with that nickname that I did with "Chark" (my dad's pet name for me). A love/hate relationship.

My youngest sister told me today that it was time to hear a Doidy story.

There is plenty that happens each day and that little girl makes me laugh at least three or four times a day. There are just as many times, if not more, that I can't imagine ever being obeyed by this cheeky little thing. I use the old counting to three trick, but most of the time I get to three and she is still doing what she shouldn't be doing. It's only when I begin stalking over to her with a threatening stare that she moves her little butt. I'm not sure what I'll do if I ever actually get to her. I think she knows that and is only pandering to my silly counting and stalking.

Isabel loves to play games on my laptop. My 7 month pregnant body appreciates this particularly when it starts to flag in the afternoons. Isabel perches herself beside me on my bed with the laptop on her lap while I snooze. She likes to copy my touch typing skills, but of course ends up with nonsense lines of letters. I woke up the other afternoon in time to see this:

We did not find results for: kuumba made uhiuhhuihu. Try the suggestions below or type a new query above

I'm impressed she typed an actual word. Poor Google couldn't even think of suggestions for her Google search.

Isabel likes to lick her feet. She likes to lick my arms. She also enjoys eating her shirts. She knows every one of those things creeps me out, but she continues to do it.

I have taken some movies of Isabel that I intend to post here. But I need to get some batteries for the camera .... now that I've typed that, I am certain I can just hook it up to the computer and recharge the battery. I'll get back to you on that one. Stay tuned.

I've been thinking lately of a few different posts that I could put up... so I feel like I'm getting some sort of blog mojo back. But I'm not promising anything at the moment. You'll only be disappointed.

Trunked

2011-06-25T23:35:00.000-07:00

I'm finally able to do it! I finally have stories to tell you the stupid things my child says. And then you can tell me how NOT cute it is. Then I'll argue until I'm blue in the face that it was in fact the cutest thing you could have ever seen.

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I prepared LQ for what was happening next as we drove home from a family get together.

"When we get home, it's books and bed time, LQ"

"No.... I watch daddy play racing Mario"

"No, LQ. It is time for bed when we get home."

"No.... I watch daddy play racing Mario"

[repeat at least 5 times]

finally I change the pace -

"LQ! You will be going to bed when we get home. I'm the Mummy and I say so!"

"No! I LQ and I play with daddy"

"LQ... Mummy trumps LQ. Every time."

"No I trunk Mummy!"

Dal: "I'll trunk your faces" - End of conversation.

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We sit on the floor. We are playing guess the shape with dinosaurs. I pause for dramatics. "hmmmm...."

LQ, the computer whiz, questions me. "Are you loading?"

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A favourite game at the moment is "wake the baby". LQ and I poke and prod my tummy in an effort to get Little Bob Jnr to move around. LQ puts her mouth up to my tummy and yells "WAKE UP BABY!!" I am thinking this may not be a good tradition to continue for much longer.

LQ is very aware of the baby and is very willing to talk about him to anyone who asks. We asked her how the baby gets out of mummy's tummy. She just shrugged. We told her how he will come out and she laughed hysterically and said "No! THAT is SILLY!"

Warning: May inhibit blogging

2011-06-04T23:11:00.000-07:00

I love my antidepressants. They have done wonders for me.

But like every drug, they do have some side effects. The side effect that I've noticed the most is the lack of desire to blog.

There's been a few things happen in the past month that were worthy of blogging. To be honest, "back in the day" I didn't really need anything to write about. There were posts about LQ sitting in a box for heavens sakes. But now even when big events like finding out the sex of my child happen, I can't seem to find the energy or desire to write about it.

I am certain that once the pregnancy, the new babyness and the need for anti-depressants have passed, there will come a time when I feel the need to write more than once a month.

But for now I hope you can ride on through this slump with me and meet me on the other side. As an update to my life:

We found out we are having a boy.
I was lucky enough to have to do a driving exam to get my Arizona licence. I passed with flying colours.
LQ has turned into a bandit. She insists that all bandits are good.
I celebrated my 30th birthday. In Tombstone. Watching street shootout re-enactments.
LQ refers to her stuffed toys as "the guys" or "my guys". "Put boots on the guys, mummy"

I hope your June is a good one.

Newsy news news news

2011-05-09T17:26:00.000-07:00

I've made the title of this post sound like I've actually got exciting news to tell. Not really. Just a whole bunch of little things (maybe not even a whole bunch) to catch up on the three weeks I've not written anything.

First things first. You can stop worrying about crazy Hel. Crazy Hel went and got some drugs that turned her into "content with life" Hel. My OB gave me a prescription for anti-depressants. I sat on that prescription for three weeks, in the hopes that my good mood was here to stay. As it turned out, it was not, so I filled that prescription and to cut a long story short, LQ is no longer at risk of being blamed for spots on the floor that don't actually exist, among other things. Sure there are spots on the floor now, because "content with life" Hel is also "Don't Mop the Floors" Hel. As a disclaimer: I am completely aware of the risks of taking anti-depressants while pregnant, but as I have assured both Grandmothers of the fetus there was much reflection, praying and pondering on the matter and the pros outweighed the cons by a million miles. The decision was not made lightly (although I speak light of the matter now).

Speaking of "don't mop the floors" Hel. She comes in other varieties of "I don't do any housework" Hel. Last night Dal tentatively brought up the possibility of having a cleaning day next Saturday. I honestly thought he couldn't see the inch thick grunge that had built up behind the toilet. Not to worry. It will build up again after our spring clean.

"Creative" Hel has reared her wonderful head again, but "Procrastination" Hel keeps pushing her down. LQ just recently had her fourth birthday party. I had wonderful, wonderful visions of many happy children being wowed by the awesomeness of LQ's Cowgirl party, but most of those visions never came to fruition. I'm glad I had the foresight to order some party crap before it was too late. It didn't turn out too badly. I forgot to play some games I had organised to have and forgot to put out the "Wagon Wheels" (look it up yourself -Arnotts Wagon Wheels) that Mum had sent especially from Australia. But because of my super drugs, I laughed about it instead of crying for three days and wondering if my child would be scarred for the rest of her life.

We find out in two weeks what the sex of the baby is. Want to place bets? The odds are good.

Well, I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry. It's time for "I don't make dinner" Hel to get to work. I'm thinking of making mashed potatoes for LQ and calling it a night.

Meanwhile...

2011-04-22T20:43:00.001-07:00

.... back in Hobart my brothers are inventing new dance techniques. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you "Rancing".

Cranky

2011-04-19T15:32:00.000-07:00

My friend wrote to me after reading my last post. She only reads my blog when she gets bored at work, so I know she truly does love me.

"I can see the crazy factor rising a little Helgs!" End quote. Yep... she calls me Helgs (a friend from almost ten years ago now) and yep, what she said kind of describes my life perfectly. Dal will attest to that. I am certain if he wasn't so nice he'd have disappeared some months ago now.

I am all sorts of crazy, but mostly I feel just cranky. And so when I think that it is time I really should update my blog, all I can think of is cranky things to talk about. For example I would really like to complain about birthdays or tell you of my eternal hatred for my hairdresser or vent about the seemingly lack of discipline that occurs in Primary every week (let me clarify - the Presidency is wonderful... it's the teachers that seem to be scared to tell their class to "shoosh!"). I really don't want to write all that stuff down because I don't want to seem stuck in the mire, although I am. And I don't want to seem petty, although I am. And worst of all, I don't want someone to be offended by my crankiness, although I'm sure my hormones have already offended more people in my life than I care to think about.

I skyped with my mum for over an hour yesterday... mostly complaining. Then I made her cry. I guess I just had too many stupid/petty problems for one person to handle. Actually... she cried because she's got a husband who is just as much a nut job as me. Thankfully he can't get pregnant... so we are all safe from that beast (hi Dad!).

I think, though, that if I did start writing all my thoughts, all that would end up happening is a full public meltdown a la Charlie Sheen style (maybe not so drastic, but it wouldn't be pretty).

So instead of documenting my mental decline, I thought I'd finally share with you the story of how Dal and I met. I think I've given you bits and pieces here and there, but never the full story. I think this is a good idea because so many of the famous bloggers have already done it and I am all about riding a fad until it's been flogged to death. Also, my newest follower suggested something similar while commenting on one of my old posts.

I'm just hoping that it doesn't end up being the crankiest love story ever told.

Mottled Monday

2011-04-18T13:47:00.000-07:00

Just a few bits and pieces.

For three days straight now, I have asked LQ what she wants for lunch. For three straight days she has had a clear idea of what she wants. For three straight days I have given her EXACTLY what she has requested. For three straight days she has seen what I had for lunch and proceeded to whine that THAT is what she really wanted. It's enough to drive me INSANE!

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Friday was a rough day. It was the end of a long week of LQ being sick and the truck not starting - in other words I was stuck at home ALL week aside from the time I tried to walk in 90 degree temperatures to my mother-in-law's home (that's another story). I was desperate. Back to Friday. I'm not above saying I had a meltdown. The truck actually started, got me all excited and then quit working. I felt my chest constricting, I couldn't breathe properly, my mind got muddled and I started pacing the kitchen. I sent a message to Dal about feeling trapped. He called me up and I immediately collapsed into a sobbing mess. LQ thought I was sad because she had eaten frosting with two spoons without my knowledge that morning. Poor kid. A nap was in order. It wasn't until MUCH later in the day I ventured outside again. There on my doorstep, poorly hidden under the doormat, was a package. For me. From a friend who knows.

Opening any package is fun for me. It breaks up the day. But this package was filled with amazing goodness and a whole heap of love. I took this picture after I had already eaten half the block of chocolate and LQ had taken a packet of double coated Tim Tams into her room.

A thank you just doesn't seem enough for the lifesaving properties that this package had. I actually cried when I pulled the drinks out of the box.

I have been gorging on chocolate the entire weekend. SO much better than drugs!

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Dal and I have been spending our weekends looking at real estate recently and we've just put offers on a few homes. One lender owned and the other a short sale, so don't expect anymore information for quite some time, but that's some exciting news from our grownup lives. On a related note: Can I just tell you how cranky it makes me feel when I walk into a home someone has said that is recently renovated and it is glaringly obvious that they've done everything cheaply and poorly. Why bother doing it at all? Poorly renovated homes just means more work for the next sap who wants to renovate. Can you tell I've been scarred by my recent renovation project?

Entitled: An Obsession

2011-04-10T22:26:00.000-07:00

Hello my friends. First I want to thank you for the love you gave me on my "Mostly" post. Since getting it out on my blog and talking to my Obstetrician, I have been feeling a lot better. But that's a different post.

This one is about my dearest LQ.

I'm not sure I could love this girl any more than I do. I am certain she has reached her cuteness peak. Everything she does has me giggling to myself or laughing out loud. She shakes her little booty at me, she shimmies across the floor. She sings constantly to me, Dal or herself. She says things like "Daddy, you sick! Take a nap!" and "mmmm b'donalds (McDonalds), deyishous!". She is good a fake laughing when we are laughing at something she does and most importantly of all when I'm cranky or just generally not in a good mood she will say "Happy face Mummy! Show me your happy face". Let me tell you about that happy face. Not once have I ever said that to her.... that's all LQ.

There's one thing that hasn't changed as LQ has grown into the beautiful little girl that she is. Her love for puzzles. It started well before she turned two and her love has not waned. To show you how much she loves puzzles, I took a picture of all the puzzles that she owns and as a comparison you can see in one of the pictures her small drawer filled with her dress up costumes. There's no contest... that girl could do puzzles all day if I'd sit with her.

Entitled: A Love Letter

2011-04-04T18:34:00.000-07:00

The 30 minutes before you arrive home is always the longest part of the day.

I hear your noisy truck (we need to get that fixed) come around the corner and pull in to the driveway.

I stand up a little straighter.

In the few minutes that it takes for you to get to the door (the bin needs to be taken out) I am frozen. I am unsure as to what to do with myself while I wait.

The sucking and whooshing sound that the opening of the door makes will forever make my heart beat a little faster, help my body relax and inject just that bit more energy that I've been craving all day.

That door opening is a sign for LQ, too. Her little body leaps from whatever position she is in. She flies to the door. "DADDY"!

Her excitement is just a snippet of how I feel about your homecoming, but I play it cool.

LQ gets cuddles and I get the same sort of kiss I got from you when we were dating.

I know you love me.

I hope that you know how much I love you. I hope that the waiting dinner shows that I love you. I hope that the made bed shows that I love you. I hope that my face shows how much I love you.

I hope my entire life shows that I love you beyond any words on a silly blog post could ever convey and how much I love having you all to myself each evening (usually).

Mostly

2011-03-29T23:33:00.000-07:00

I mostly stay at home.

I am mostly tired.

I am mostly cranky.

I am mostly hungry.

I mostly don't make dinner.

I am mostly sick.

I mostly feel lonely.

I am mostly depressed. Prenatal depression bites.

I mostly cry at night.

I mostly let LQ eat what she wants. Cold hot dogs anyone?

I mostly let myself eat what I want.

I mostly wish someone else could magically save me from myself.

I mostly know that that's not going to happen.

Most of all, I do not want any advice. I just mostly need a hug.

Life isn't always roses and sweet tea

2011-03-24T18:13:00.000-07:00

Of course after I sing LQ's praises for the other day, I wake up today from my nap to find pee puddles right by the toilet and LQ asking for wipes because she had poo poo bottom.

I finally found the wet underpants, but am still puzzled as to where (if there were any) the "poo poos" have disappeared to. I suggest no one visit my home until I work that one out.

Is that a light at the end?

2011-03-22T17:51:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed my little Sunbeam class on Sunday. Even though the entire class showed up. These poor "beams" have had nothing but First-Trimester-I'm-so-tired-and-cranky-I-am-seriously-considering-falling-off-my-chair-to-get-a-quick-recovery-nap Hel.

Heh.... add an extra "L" on my name at the end of that sentence and it wouldn't really change the meaning of it much at all.

So when I enjoyed six of the little preciousness-es on Sunday, I really thought I was back on track. Actually a few of the stars aligned right for me to think that. I started thinking creatively again (creative brain has been working overtime in the inner nursery), I sewed LQ a skirt (first real project since January) and I.... wait for it..... MADE DINNER (and it wasn't burnt cheesy toast).

Yesterday I was on top of my game. Playing educational games with LQ and tidying the house simultaneously.

And then today happened. My body shut down at around 10.30am and didn't kickstart again until 5pm. 4 hours of that I was napping.

This is where I say I have the most incredible LQ in the history of LQ's. Two of those napping hours she just pleasantly sat on my bed watching PBS kids. The other two she napped with me. I do feel bad that she doesn't get out on days like these (yep I've had one or two already - it killed me not to be able to complain about it on my blog), but the guilt is not so bad that it's motivation to get out of bed. There would have to be some pretty wicked mother guilt to achieve that.

And now I've complained about that... I just quickly clicked over to my google reader to see what was going on in the world... and my heavily pregnant friend who is due in April has been put on bed rest (pre-eclampsia) for the rest of the pregnancy.

There's always someone who has it worse - or likes to one-up me.... ;)

Shake It!

2011-03-13T22:41:00.000-07:00

We've decided that LQ needs a job. She does have one talent that we think may be useful. Watch.

What is making Hel happy this week?

2011-03-10T22:03:00.000-07:00

Finding grocery store shelving for a total of $5 from the thrift store.

And this has been making me happy (and sick... and really tired.... and nervous) for about 10 weeks now, but it makes me happy to show it to you now.

fun times

2011-03-03T10:06:00.001-07:00

LQ has recently started changing colours. She closes her eyes and when she opens them again she will be purple or brown or any number of other colours. It's an awesome talent to have. I'm just not sure how to use it yet especially as she's the only person who can see the changes.

We were driving home from the store the other night and I told LQ that she was crazy. "I not crazy, mummy. I cool"

Anyone in need of the a cool, orange kid?

This

2011-03-02T22:04:00.000-07:00

has made me happy this week.

The shelf and night light cost a total of $20 from Ikea. An impromptu lunch date with my precious daughter was a bonus.

and this.

LQ earning her first dollar. For emptying the entire dishwasher.

A Spiritual Push - the story of three little things

2011-02-26T17:35:00.003-07:00

I wrote this about a month ago. Not sure why I didn't publish it straight away. But now it feels right.

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ok. It's been a crappy two weeks. To be honest, it's been a crappy month. At least two out of the three members in this family have been sick at the same time for the better part of the month. My patience has run thin with LQ on many occasions. And you always know that when life gets crappy, you are bound to get PMS to help you look at every situation in a rational, non-emotional way.

I got to Saturday just gone and and after screaming at LQ for the sixth time over two days, I broke down. LQ sat in my bed sobbing and I sat in my sewing room with tears streaming down my face. I was emotionally spent, and as a result was physically and spiritually exhausted as well. I stared into the dark window that sat in front of me and whispered "I lose".

"If we are to endure to the end, then I've lost the game. I don't have it in me to keep choosing the right".

I love my religion. I personally know that it is the correct church for me. But boy howdy, it's not an easy religion to have!

I listlessly went through the motions the following day. I got ready for church. I finished up the flyers and posters for the upcoming Relief Society meeting, I put the finishing touches on my lesson for the Sunbeams (a group of energetic 3 year olds) and tried to stretch out my favourite dress that I accidentally shrank.

I walked into the chapel with Dal and LQ just hoping to get through the 3 hours that lay ahead of me. And then the first little thing happened. A talk - seemingly just for me. And not one of those "God loves you" talks. A talk about obedience that struck a chord with my heart. But as many young mother knows, talks only come in bits and pieces in between the dinosaur stickers and the fish crackers and the card playing. So the first little push didn't take me very far at all.

After sitting for 30 minutes with my little group of Sunbeams (including LQ) and getting quite frustrated with the one who wouldn't keep his hands to himself, the second little thing took me by surprise. Singing Time in Primary is a fun time for me. I can't tell you how much pleasure is derived from watching LQ belt out songs she doesn't know at all. She is one of the loudest singers when loud singing is called for... but it's all without a syllable in there. It makes me giggle. So having my heart softened with her usual display, we all finished our singing time with "I am a Child of God" and I cried. Something I had forgotten the previous night when I had given up.

The third little thing came as I tried to teach those poor rambunctious Sunbeams. Teaching 3 year olds in the third hour of a three hour church block is on a par with any kind of medieval torture. They've just been sitting for two whole hours and they "want to go home". Yes it's said to me often and I feel like one of the many wicked characters in any fairy tale by keeping them there. This Sunday was particularly rough because I had two boys that had not attended my class up until that Sunday. They climbed on the chairs, they tried to shimmy the curtains, they dug through my bag of goodies. They pretty much did everything but sit and listen to my lesson. And as I observed, wrestled and bargained the third push came. A clear thought came to my mind. "Look at your daughter. You worry so much about how delayed she is that you never see the progress she makes." The LQ worry drained from me as I realised that my darling daughter was indeed like any other normal 3 year old that struggles with a few words.

Years ago when I was an adolescent, my dad took us on an overnight hike (craziness, I know). There were times that it felt like I couldn't go any further up the steep incline. My backpack, filled with a girl's necessities (toilet paper, yummy food, plenty of changes of clothing, etc), weighed me down and I knew that I couldn't take another step. I would stand on that incline frozen, knowing that it wasn't possible to go back but it also wasn't possible to go forward. My dad would come up behind me and lift my backpack with his hand and push. With that little lift and push my dad was able to get my momentum going again.

That is what happened on this particular Sunday. The heaviness of my problems and the seemingly too steep incline to a better me were alleviated by those three little pushes. I got my momentum back.

LQ was vomiting BEFORE we made the Princesses

2011-02-25T12:38:00.001-07:00

It started with these two lovelies.

LQ chose the blue colour for the cow that she now calls a horse. Yeah... I don't know either.

Then LQ decided she wanted to make a duck. But she chose the colours - for everything.

I think it turned out to be a really nice looking owl.

Last night, LQ asked to make some more finger puppets. She happened to be drinking apple juice from a "princess" cup and so princess finger puppets it was. We were waiting for daddy to come home from Mutual.

Princesses without mouths... the way things should be. Although I do enjoy Cinderella's song. Guess what two princesses these two are.

While we are photographing everything on the kitchen table... have a look at this little lovely.

The most boring board game ever to grace this earth. And I get to play it ten times a day.

Here's how you play. See the die on the board... it has different coloured hearts on it AND the wicked Queen. You roll it to see what colour heart to land on on the board. If you get the Wicked Queen then you don't move - she really IS evil. Along the way you pick up one of those stupid little "treasure" cards as you pass each princess on the board. I just can't see how a yellow silhouette of an apple is really going to be something treasured by Snow White - I can hear her in her high pitched voice saying how much she treasures the most the thing that practically killed her. Stupid. Then you go back to the part of the board that has your princess on it. And you win.

Basically, you go around in a circle, pick up four cards and you're done. If I'm lucky, LQ will mix it up by insisting halfway through that game that we need to swap princesses.

Dates and Deals

2011-02-24T12:37:00.000-07:00

Dal and I went on a date on Tuesday evening. The second date in less than a week.

Lucky.

Our first date was to the Mesa Temple on Friday evening. It was long overdue.

Our Tuesday night date didn't really start off as a planned date. We had planned to spend the time together, but we weren't really expecting the time to be as enjoyable or pleasant as it turned out to be.

You see for the past two weeks Dal and I have been participating in an ASU (Arizona State University) Research project on Healthy Couples. Before you spit your morning drink out with laughter at that one.... we aren't the "healthiest" of couples, I know.... it needs to be explained that the research is on the link between affectionate touch and the fact that generally happily married couples live longer.

For two weeks preceding our Tuesday evening "date" we have been completing short surveys morning and evening about our day and how we have felt, whether we had any positive and negative experiences with family, friends, and work colleagues. That was the crappy part. It wasn't all that fun to wake up and have to remember to say whether you've felt angry or motivated or loving throughout the night. It was bothersome. So our feelings toward an estimated three hours lab study weren't exactly "giddy".

But those three hours ended up being quite enjoyable, plus the drive back home (about 40 minutes) was fun too. I can't say much about the actual three hours because they need more couples and if you are going to be a part of the lab study then it's important you don't know what goes on. Believe me.... it's good blog fodder, I wish I could write about it. At one point Dal had me in tears I was laughing so much. He really pulled out his A-game with this one. Charming all the researchers, etc. If you've experienced Dal at his best, then you'll know what I'm talking about.

The best part about it: We got paid to go on a date. Yep. Cash and gift cards all round. I was already planning what little treats I was going to buy as we walked out the door. Then LQ vomited when we got home and we've been housebound ever since. Those gift cards are burning holes in my bag!!!

So here's my appeal to the Arizonian blogging pals, go do it. They have only had about 60 couples so far and they need over 200. If you are Latino/Latina they will love you even more. It's a pain doing the morning and evening diaries, but it's fun and interesting being included in some research. Oh, and you get some pocket money at the end of it.

Go to the Healthy Couples website for more information.

Oreos

2011-02-20T21:42:00.000-07:00

Like any normal child, LQ likes her Oreos,.. without the cookie part.

Not realising I had left an open packet of Oreos in the living room the few mornings ago, I told LQ I was going to have a quick shower and left her to watch some "Max & Ruby".

I came back to find this:

Pick yourself up...

2011-02-20T20:46:00.000-07:00

LQ took a tumble down the staircase at Dal's parent's place this evening. Thank goodness I didn't have to witness it (I'm certain I would have vomited and peed my pants all at the same time), but Dal described it as a somersault down the stairs.

The only injury was a small carpet burn on the bridge of her nose. She wailed of course.... mostly because Dal picked her up and carried her the rest of the way down the stairs. Apparently she wanted to go back to the top of the stairs and do it again "not falling 'dis time".

p.s. Just wanted to make it clear that I have NO problem tipping waitresses and those people whose wages depend on tips. What was unclear to me was, why was I tipping a girl who earns the same amount of money as one in Australia who doesn't ask me to tip her. But I can see that (as was put in one of the comments) "when in Rome". I'll suck it up... or find me a cheaper hairdresser.

Advice about tipping

2011-02-15T13:31:00.001-07:00

Alright... here's my big dilemma.

When I lived in Australia, I would pay $60 for a haircut... actually my last couple of haircuts were only $35, but I'm a realist.... I know a good haircut in a major city usually goes for $60.

Now that I live in the States, I pay - drumroll - $60.

It is NOT customary to tip at all in Australia (unless you are so, so, so impressed with the job that the person did that you feel like they will be beamed up immediately to the highest glory).

When I pay for my haircut in my new hair salon (that is a worldwide chain and I have used in Sydney as well - same pricing), they ask me if I want to leave a tip. I am completely confused and conflicted about this. I like my haircut and have just told the hairstylist how wonderful she is, but I feel like after I've paid a good amount of money for it that I shouldn't be asked if I want to leave a tip.

Am I just being chinzy? Please help me out my dear American friends... Is my hairstylist going to use spit in my conditioning treatment next time I go in?

p.s. The first time I went, I did leave a $10 tip. So we are kind of at a $5 tip a visit so far. The average may get lower if I don't get some help soon!

Toilet Humour

2011-02-06T23:10:00.000-07:00

Dal clogged the toilet in our bathroom tonight. In his defense... the drains are old and they get blocked easily.

I walked past LQ in her bed on my way to her bathroom this evening. She called out to me, "what are doing mummy?"

"I'm just going to the toilet, LQ"

"mmrrrfmffhrh?"

"LQ I can't hear you, just wait until I've finished?"

"mmmrrraffmhsh?"

"LQ just wait! I'm almost finished"

"YOU DOING WEE WEES MUMMY?"

"Yes LQ, wee wees"

"NO POO POOS? JUST WEE WEES?"

"Yes LQ, just wee wees"

"NO POO POOS MUMMY?"

"LQ, leave me alone. I'm all done!"

And once again I am reminded that it is LQ's duty to know every detail of what's happening in my life.

The Cute Stuff that LQ does.

2011-01-27T16:03:00.000-07:00

Turn your volume up loud for this one. LQ was showing us how much she enjoyed eating Daddy's chips.

While we were all dying over the weekend (mostly me), we played a lot of Wii. LQ showing off her skills.

Running Away

2011-01-20T16:37:00.000-07:00

I googled "How do I run away from my child?" today.

It turns out Google isn't so helpful with this question. Not one person even had a thought that the parent and not the child might be the one looking to run away. Pages upon pages of helpful websites telling me what to do if my child runs away, if I'm having problems with a run away child or if I suspect my child will run away shortly.

Do you think LQ suspects I want to run away from her? I'll check my Google history to make sure.

Stupid Google. Now I'm stuck at home with a kid that's been sick for three weeks and it's all YOUR fault.

Flash Flooding and Prayers

2011-01-11T18:20:00.000-07:00

I am not sure if you, my readers (who are in different countries), are aware of the devastation that has hit my Australian home state of Queensland. In what has only been explained as a freak of nature, my home town of Toowomba was hit by a flash flood that was described as the beginning of an inland tsunami. Toowoomba is a city nestled on the edge of the Great Dividing Range that was my home for just over 10 years of my life. There was no way for the water to go but down off the mountain, and so an 8 metre (24 foot) wall of water rushed down the mountain devastating the low lying towns below it and further on. Toowoomba is surrounded by many farming communities and as such the flood as ruined not only homes, but livelihoods. From what I have read 80% of the state of Queensland (a sizable state) has now been declared as being in a state of emergency. The capital city, Brisbane, has been put on flood watch and the inner city has been essentially closed down because of the close-by river (Brisbane River) breaking its banks.

I ask you that you keep all these people who are so closely affected by this disaster in your prayers and if you can do more, I am including a link that will lead you to a website that you can donate to the flood relief appeal.

I feel so helpless sitting here in the states watching video and seeing pictures of places that I know by heart completely washed away. To my family and friends, stay safe and know I am keeping you in my thoughts and prayers. I love you all.

Big Girl

2011-01-10T23:16:00.000-07:00

LQ turns four in just over three months. And I think I am finally starting to grow up. I've started putting my big girl panties on a few more times a week and it makes me feel good.

There is such a feeling of empowerment that I have been getting that I wanted to share with you. But now as I sit down to write about it, it seems too hard to describe. It mostly feels like I am finally becoming the big girl that I have always dreamed of being. The kind of big girl that just sucks it up and gets things done.

I still hate doing housework, but now it gets done earlier in the day. And if it doesn't get done, I move on and tend not to call myself useless. I have recognised my weaknesses as a mother and am moving on. Sometimes a girl just needs to accept that her personality isn't the kind that will ever get over-excited about spending an entire day playing with children. I have also recognised my strengths as a mother. More often than not I forgo an afternoon nap to do something useful.

All this means nothing really. Just that I have been feeling good about myself lately... and I wanted to share it.

Of course there is always the PMS exception.

Man Room Extended - extra photos

2011-01-09T13:10:00.000-07:00

I guess the movie wasn't such a good idea. My family seems to be having issues pressing play.... so I thought I would take my lazy bottom out to the back room and take some pictures of it. I love my family, by the way.

All of the stuff on the shelving is from Dal's life up to now. He plays the drums, wants to be Indiana Jones (see plush Mickey), loves film, etc. I guess the fake plant is just there for aesthetics.

The storeroom.... still has a bunch of junk in it. The lower white frame has a rubbing of Jimmy Hendrix's gravestone that I found among Dal's stuff.

The Man Room

2011-01-08T06:24:00.000-07:00

Mid November my brain spewed forth a brilliant gift idea for Dal. This has NEVER happened to me. I am usually scrambling for a Dal gift idea at the last minute and it never seems as creative as the gifts that he comes up with for me. I know it isn't supposed to be a competition, but every-single-one-of-you that has a partner knows that it IS a competition. A competition to see who is the idiot in the relationship... the one who is oblivious to how much we "really" are going to spend on the other.

Throughout the beginning of December Dal and I went back and forth about whether we could afford to give each other presents this year. It's not like we are destitute, but there are certainly other more important things we could have been spending our money on. My brilliant idea was to take our plain, holey and dirty detached room and single-handedly turn it into the man cave we were "one day" going to do. So as we went back and forth about gifts and time went on, I started to panic a little. Finally we decided that yes we could afford Christmas.

Two weeks until Christmas. I walk out to the back room and discover a lovely person in the past had painted OVER wallpaper*. That was the easy part. Other hiccups included the large holes in the walls that had been filled in by a person oblivious to the fact that there was painted over wallpaper, hence forever STICKING the wallpaper around the hole to the drywall. Electric outlets had been left on during the last painting, so the outlets were not only screwed to the wall, but also permanently stuck there by paint. I managed to crack two when I pried them off with a screwdriver. No great loss.

So, I got stuck into it. I spent LQ's nap times spraying small amounts on exposed parts of the wallpaper and then picking small strands of wallpaper off. I soon realised that at the rate I was going, I wouldn't get the room finished until the following Christmas. I enlisted the help of my sisters-in-law. Both looking after LQ for a few days while I really got stuck into the grimeyness of that room. One of those blessed sisters even helped with the wallpaper peeling. I got sick the following day, but dragged my sorry butt out to that room, determined to finish on time. I got discouraged but carried on. And three days before Christmas, I finished.

BEFORE

This was an old rusty lamp without a shade that I reused in the room (see below - I spray painted it white)

AFTER

Now before you say that it is too feminine.... Dal's favourite colour is purple. So there's only so much you can do with purple without it looking feminine! The pillows will probably be delegated to another room soon and the chair that is in there isn't actually the chair that we will be using in there. The correct chair is a nice deep manly red leather rocker/recliner that we got for $50 off craigslist (hooray for craigslist!!). I got all but one of those picture frames for free. The shelving I found in the storage room that I just painted white. The tv we already had. So all in all it was a pretty inexpensive project. If anything, it makes me happy that I created something like that. Now I've just got to convince LQ that it really ISN'T normal to have toasted cheese sandwiches and lollies for dinner every night.

As an aside (because I feel like i haven't written enough words on this post), once I was finished I didn't quite know what to do with myself. I had thrown myself in to that room and then I had nothing. So I gave myself a few sewing projects to finish before Christmas (3 days, remember) - create a Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland inspired dress for my 2 year old niece, finish quiet book pages for my nephew, sew a small ribbon tag cube for other nephew and sew some candy bags.

* Just so you know why painting over wallpaper is BAD, BAD, BAD!!!! Wallpaper should be easy to peel off. A special solution is sprayed or wiped over the wallpaper and because of the porous nature of the wallpaper it sucks that solution right up and then you can grab big sheets of the stuff and pull it right off. IF you paint over wallpaper, then you screw up that porous part of the wallpaper and poor schlepps like me come along and have to score the painted wallpaper and pick the shreds of wallpaper off with their fingernails or if you aren't as poor as me a fun scraper tool. I googled "removing painted over wallpaper" and all I got was that there is a special place in heaven for people who have the job of removing painted over wallpaper. It wasn't really helpful.

An oldie but a goodie

2011-01-07T10:18:00.003-07:00

I've seen it before, but I was reading it again this morning and had a good chuckle. I am certain that if I read it once every year, different things will make me laugh maniacally and then burst into tears.

Lesson 10 seems to ring true right now. I really like the goats in the supermarket suggestion. I had two goats (best friend cousins) with me at the post office yesterday. One of them decided to get around by sliding on her belly the whole way. The other goat thought it best if she licked all the glossy surfaces she could find. Yep. It made me extremely happy that the line was almost out the door.

11 Step Program for those thinking of having kids...

Lesson 1

1. Go to the grocery store.

2. Arrange to have your salary paid directly to their head office.

3. Go home.

4. Pick up the paper.

5. Read it for the last time.

Lesson 2

Before you finally go ahead and have children, find a couple who already are parents and berate them about their...

1. Methods of discipline.

2. Lack of patience.

3. Appallingly low tolerance levels.

4. Allowing their children to run wild.

5. Suggest ways in which they might improve their child's breastfeeding, sleep habits, toilet training, table manners, and overall behavior.

Enjoy it because it will be the last time in your life you will have all the answers.

Lesson 3

A really good way to discover how the nights might feel...

1. Get home from work and immediately begin walking around the living room from 5PM to 10PM carrying a wet bag weighing approximately 8-12 pounds, with a radio turned to static (or some other obnoxious sound) playing loudly. (Eat cold food with one hand for dinner)

2. At 10PM, put the bag gently down, set the alarm for midnight, and go to sleep.

3. Get up at 12 and walk around the living room again, with the bag, until 1AM.

4. Set the alarm for 3AM.

5. As you can't get back to sleep, get up at 2AM and make a drink and watch an infomercial.

6. Go to bed at 2:45AM.

7. Get up at 3AM when the alarm goes off.

8. Sing songs quietly in the dark until 4AM.

9. Get up. Make breakfast. Get ready for work and go to work (work hard and be productive)

Repeat steps 1-9 each night. Keep this up for 3-5 years. Look cheerful and together.

Lesson 4

Can you stand the mess children make? T o find out...

1. Smear peanut butter onto the sofa and jam onto the curtains.

2. Hide a piece of raw chicken behind the stereo and leave it there all summer.

3. Stick your fingers in the flower bed.

4. Then rub them on the clean walls.

5. Take your favorite book, photo album, etc. Wreck it.

6. Spill milk on your new pillows. Cover the stains with crayons. How does that look?

Lesson 5

Dressing small children is not as easy as it seems.

1. Buy an octopus and a small bag made out of loose mesh.

2. Attempt to put the octopus into the bag so that none of the arms hang out.

Time allowed for this - all morning.

Lesson 6

Forget the BMW and buy a mini-van. And don't think that you can leave it out in the driveway spotless and shining. Family cars don't look like that.

1. Buy a chocolate ice cream cone and put it in the glove compartment.

Leave it there.

2. Get a dime. Stick it in the CD player.

3. Take a family size package of chocolate cookies. Mash them into the back seat. Sprinkle cheerios all over the floor, then smash them with your foot.

4. Run a garden rake along both sides of the car.

Lesson 7

Go to the local grocery store. Take with you the closest thing you can find to a pre-school child. (A full-grown goat is an excellent choice). If you intend to have more than one child, then definitely take more than one goat. Buy your week's groceries without letting the goats out of your sight. Pay for everything the goat eats or destroys. Until you can easily accomplish this, do not even contemplate having children.

Lesson 8

1. Hollow out a melon.

2. Make a small hole in the side.

3. Suspend it from the ceiling and swing it from side to side.

4. Now get a bowl of soggy Cheerios and attempt to spoon them into the swaying melon by pretending to be an airplane.

5. Continue until half the Cheerios are gone.

6. Tip half into your lap. The other half, just throw up in the air.

You are now ready to feed a nine- month-old baby.

Lesson 9

Learn the names of every character from Sesame Street , Barney, Disney, the Teletubbies, and Pokemon. Watch nothing else on TV but PBS, the Disney channel or Noggin for at least five years. (I know, you're thinking What's 'Noggin'?) Exactly the point.

Lesson 10

Make a recording of Fran Drescher saying 'mommy' repeatedly. (Important: no more than a four second delay between each 'mommy'; occasional crescendo to the level of a supersonic jet is required). Play this tape in your car everywhere you go for the next four years. You are now ready to take a long trip with a toddler.

Lesson 11

Start talking to an adult of your choice. Have someone else continually tug on your skirt hem, shirt- sleeve, or elbow while playing the 'mommy' tape made from Lesson 10 above. You are now ready to have a conversation with an adult while there is a child in the room.

Christmas Happened (Again)

2011-01-04T20:21:00.000-07:00

The Christmas Tree (my first live one)

the cookie decorating (and making) with Aunt Becca

The many phone calls between cousins

The "Man Room" Renovation (more on that later)

The entertainment while the Man Room was being renovated

The Christmas Eve Nativity

The Christmas Eve "Talent" (Australian Jingle Bells)

The Christmas Eve sugar overload

Christmas Morning

The Dinosaur themed Christmas presents

The Gift Opening

The "Alice Dress" that I made

The Motherload

Merry Christmas from the Petersens

2010-12-21T19:30:00.000-07:00

I guess it's time for a 5 minute run down of our year that was. I have been so lazy this year that I just pointed all my card recipients to my blog. So sorry if this is a boring old rehash of what I've already said for the regular readers. But really.... suck it UP!

First... here's a little Christmas treat from Isabel (using her real name... just for today)

Now on to the obligatory run down of what we accomplished this year:

Counted in the new year at 8.30pm while it was still daylight and stinking hot

Left Isabel with Grandma Jill, went to the Australian Open and rubbed shoulders with Prince William (almost)

In February I got a wisdom tooth pulled, damaged my back, missed my mum and Isabel decided to become the Young Naked Chef

March saw us visiting the US for Dal's youngest brother's wedding. Of course we stopped off at Disneyland on the way home.

In April Dal missed Isabel and I while we traipsed around the country visiting our friends (mostly the Kuhns). Isabel had a good chocolatey easter. She also enjoyed a cooking themed birthday party. I pretty much collapsed after that one.

May brought Mothers Day and my birthday. Dal wrote a beautiful post for me and my friends helped me celebrate with food, a movie and pampering. I also discovered my "married indent".

We were mostly just trying to avoid winter in June. But we did venture out to some caves with my family. Isabel peed on Dal while we were exploring the caves. I am sure he secretly loved it.

July was Dal's month. He flew to Thailand for a week and then spent five days flying to Vegas, Arizona and then back home. He also turned 31. We celebrated his birthday a week later. I finished up 2.5 months of work.

We watched the snow on the mountain come and go in August. And tried to stay warm. We also prepared ourselves for the move of the century. We held a garage sale that was kind of hard to do, but it helped us get rid of all our worldly goods that we were unable to send to America.

Hel became an official permanent resident of the USA in September. We stayed with Hel's parents for a month while getting all our paperwork ducks lined up. It was a bittersweet time for Hel.

October was Hel's month. She road-tripped with Isabel up to Salt Lake City, stopping in to visit her blogging friend, DeNae, on the way. Hel, her best friend plus three kids in the back road tripped back from SLC via the Grand Canyon. We enjoyed the warm weather that Arizona provided while we waited for our second winter of the year. Isabel was Belle for Halloween.

November brought another road trip with another blogging friend to meet MORE blogging friends. Only to St. George this time. We enjoyed Thanksgiving. Black Friday was a bust and Hel lost 5kgs.

Disneyland marked the beginning of December. I have been pretty quiet on my blog this month, mostly because I have been making the worlds best present for Dal and it is using up every ounce of energy that I have. Not to worry... I finished it today. So I'll be back spreading my love and cheer shortly.

Thank you so much for all the support that you have all given us over this past year. I treasure friends and family the most and I am so glad that you are a part of that group. Yes you.

Have a safe and Merry Christmas. Love Dal, Hel and Bel.

To the dearest girl that I know

2010-12-05T00:34:00.002-07:00

I went in to your bedroom tonight after you fell asleep.

You were laying on your bed the wrong way and I knew that if I didn't put your head back on your pillow, you were more than likely to end up on the floor. More often than not, I will look at your darling face and feel such a surge of love that it startles me.

As we were driving home last night I couldn't help but turn around and watch you in the back seat. You sang along to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse theme song and made daddy and me laugh. You didn't see us laughing because your eyes were fixed to the tv screen.

Can you feel it? Can you feel the inordinate amount of love that sometimes feels like is gushing from me? I want that love to help us both. I want it to help me be a better mummy. I want it to help you be the best kind of person you know how to be. I want it to help you when you feel sad. I want it to cheer you on when you are happy.

I want you to feel safe and warm because of my love for you. Even when it seems that I am being a mean mummy, I want you to secretly know that even though I am mean that love is still there fighting for you with every cranky part of my body. That love is ALWAYS on your side.

I want you to know that because you are you, I am a better me and nothing will ever beat the feeling of loving you.

Eeeee-It's a Small World After All

2010-12-03T23:48:00.004-07:00

Eeee-it's a small world after all,

It's a small world after all,

It's a small small world.

And now that that song is stuck in your head, here's another.

Dashing through the snow in a one horse open sleigh,

o'er the fields we go laughing all the way....

It's a small world after all,

It's a small small world.

Deck the halls with boughs of holly, etc, etc.

The Small World Ride turned out to be LQ's favourite ride at Disneyland. Dal and I have just spent the last four days going round and round on those stupid boats watching electronic puppets sing and dance for us. And now I can't get that song out of my head.

Just wanted to share the love with you all.

About to embark on our week of Disney

This one is for my brothers..... Kiss the ring.

Black Friday - because I am always on top of current issues

2010-11-28T22:56:00.002-07:00

For those of you that do NOT live in America and have no clue what Black Friday is, here is an explanation. It is the day after Thanksgiving (Thanksgiving is always the fourth Thursday in November) when stores go crazy and give you silly prices for sometimes amazing products. Take for example Office Max. Office Max had a printer that I desperately wanted. They were selling it on Friday for $130 LESS than what they normally sell it for. Craziness. But guess who didn't end up with one. Me.

Rewind to Midnight Thursday. When some stores started their Black Friday craziness. Generally the craziness will start at ungodly hours of the morning, like 3am and 4am. People will line up for a few hours before then just to get the stuff that they want. This has never appealed to me because I am far from being a morning person. I still get cranky with Isabel when she wakes me up before 8am. It happens every morning and yet I still get surprised when she doesn't just leave me alone.

Back to the Black Friday story. So I find out some stores are opening at midnight. And I think "I can do this". I may not be a morning person, but I can definitely stay up until midnight. So I pore through all the brochures eventually cutting my store destinations to two. Wal-mart (I know.... I'm cheap) and Old Navy. They both open at midnight, have some rockin' deals on some stuff that I need and I figure I'll be totally fine with staying awake for possibly only an hour.

At 11.50pm I drive through the parking lot of Old Navy. There's a line. And it is cold. I decide to leave Old Navy. I drive just around the block to Wal-mart. At least there's no line outside, so I put on my brave face and walk the half mile from the nearest available parking spot (that will fit my beast of a truck). I arrive in the store just as the Wal-mart workers have taken the black plastic off the product that is being sold for a song. I also arrive in the store just in time to see the mass hordes screeching and pulling and grabbing and throwing. Never before in my life have I seen such rudeness and chaos. There were no shopping carts left so I was left to push my way in to the crowd to grab what I could hold. The people I was contending with had obviously done this for years. I grabbed a few towels for a dollar a piece and my Rubbermaid container set, walked around in a daze for a while just witnessing the utter chaos and then marched my way over to the cash registers. I didn't have to wait long until I was walking out only half noticing that the line for the registers had increased one hundred fold.

I figured if I had survived Wal-mart then maybe Old Navy wouldn't be so bad. I went back. There was no line this time and it seemed like people were being civil to each other inside.

I waltzed in. Grabbed what I knew I had come for and searched for the end of the line. Turns out the end of the line was now snaking its way from the front all the way to the back and then back to the front again. I met a lady in line who was quite fun to talk to. We were given the nice opportunity to chat for two long hours as we shuffled our way forward in the line. Along the way I managed to pick up another $40 worth of clothing. CURSE YOU LONG LINE!!!

I vowed NEVER to do Black Friday again. My printer sat in Office Max waiting all day Friday for me to come and buy it. Unfortunately I spent the whole day trying to recover from my "easy" midnight shopping. Ugh.

Word Verification - On

2010-11-26T07:53:00.002-07:00

Hi all.

Just a quick post to let you know that I have decided to turn Word Verification back on. I was just getting too many spam comments and it was very annoying for me. As much as I hate Word Verification, I hate spam more.

I hope this doesn't prevent you from leaving a comment now.

Cold

2010-11-17T23:53:00.002-07:00

The time: 4 o'clock this afternoon.

Max & Ruby is playing, too loud to really be in the background, but in the background none the less. I sit on my bed, playing around with the computer having a moment of peace. LQ decides it is time for a potty break in the ensuite.

She has become quite adept at doing the "potty" thing. She wriggles her body as she pushes her pants down, slides her little bottom over the seat and proceeds to tinkle. I don't take much notice of what she is doing until she lets out a giggle.

I look over to where she sits. She is using her arms as leverage as she lowers herself into the toilet and then brings herself up. LQ lowers and then giggles again.

"Mummy! It's COLD!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The time: 9 o'clock this morning.

LQ asks for one of her new bandaids. I had promised her a Woody and Buzz Bandaid the previous evening if she would just go to bed. It seemed only fair to give her one. She took it and mumbled something about a sore nose as she walked out the door.

Shortly thereafter she returned.

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The time: 10 o'clock this morning.

LQ was nowhere to be seen for a while. Her ladders were also missing in action. I almost interrupted the intricate play she had designed for herself. I let it go until she called out my name "Mummy! I stuck!"

Is it my turn yet?

2010-11-15T23:13:00.003-07:00

I want to have a baby.

Just putting it out there. Hellooo Universe - it's my turn again.

I looked after a 12 month old and a 2.5 year old today while their mother went to school. I was able to get some good baby cuddles in during the 5 hours they were at my house. It seems that I am surrounded by babies here. Perhaps that is because I am. Sometimes it hurts my heart. But mostly I try not to think about it.

As I discussed my feelings today, I realised that the next step is to see a doctor. But I can't bring myself to take that step. It is an enormous step to take. A step that will take me down a path that I am not sure I am emotionally ready for. So I sit and wait in having-a-baby limbo land. Waiting for my miracle. Waiting for another perfect one of these:

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*comments off*

Speaking of Losing Weight

2010-11-09T20:44:00.003-07:00

Did you notice my wonderful segue from one post to the next? Good.

I started a diet on Halloween. I thought it was a perfect time to diet, considering the candy, the Thanksgiving and then Christmas all being lumped into two perfect months. There's nothing like taking on a challenge and then making that challenge 50,000 times harder by having to refuse good food all the time.

No matter. It turns out I'm really good at refusing food. In fact - just let me toot my own horn for a while - I am FANTASTIC at refusing food. I guess all I needed was someone to tell me *exactly* what I should be eating... and I'm all good. I've lost 8 pounds in one and a half weeks. I feel good. I'm looking forward to the weight loss slow down.

Just as an aside - I really don't get excited about food in general. If it's there, I will eat it (hence the weight gain), but I don't care if it's not there either. Which why I am finding this diet to be a little easier than I expected.

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I entered this picture into a little competition over at Diapers and Divinity. Something to do with joy in motherhood... and it came third! (p.s. I am sorry mum if you don't like how you look in this photo - I L.O.V.E it though). It is a photo of my mum and sister just after going through the temple. Can you believe that my mum is wearing what she wore when she got married?!

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I read various blogs. It seems like it is a "thing" for mothers of young children to record the wonderful and often funny things their children say. I always think that that's a pretty awesome idea... and hope to one day copy it. For the moment anything that ANYONE says kind of just dribbles out the back of my head as soon as I hear it. So trying to remember things that LQ says during the day is kind of like trying to hold in your pee while jumping on a trampoline after just having a baby (NOT going to happen).

Having said that, there IS one thing that LQ says quite often that I find mildly amusing. If I ever do something that she asks me to do, she looks at me quite earnestly and says "Thank you for obeying, mummy". I think the obedience lesson has sunk in.

40-Ten

2010-11-01T22:34:00.002-07:00

Dal gets new uniforms with his new office. Given the amount of uniform allowance that he has, he decided he would get me to take measurements to ensure the correct clothing was ordered.

Dal grabbed the tape measure, a pen and some paper this evening and we set to work measuring his hips, his neck, his arm length and chest. LQ sat on the bed and watched. I would measure, say the inches and Dal would write.

LQ insisted I measure her little body once I was done with Dal. Chest, waist and hips all measuring the same, making sure to lift up her shirt so I could get a proper measurement of her chest. Dal pretended to be interested as I called out her numbers. Then it was Mummy's turn to be measured. Although she could only get her arms around my neck, she tried to measure my "boobies" first.

"40-Ten!" She announced to Daddy.

Because the chest measurement had proved to be a little awkward, she went for my neck next.

"40-Ten!" Daddy took note that my neck was as wide as my chest. I assure you that I am NOT living a secret life as "Busty Bear", The Pro Wrestler. Nor am I winning any body building contests... I have a nice neck to chest ratio, thank you.

Dal's turn next. His boobies measured a nice round "40-ten!". Either he's got the nicest set of man-boobies around, or I need some implants. At this point I figured Daddy had the measuring under control, so I went off to do something mundane like crawling in to the clothes dryer to see how big it truly is.

I came back to hear that LQ's toes were indeed measuring at a staggering "40-ten!"

This may have been one of those moments that, had I been a "good" mother, I could have taught LQ the meaning of numbers and what two numbers together really looked like. Instead I had a good laugh - and then vowed to lose some weight from my neck.

I really miss...

2010-10-29T12:38:00.000-07:00

This kid's cuddles

and just hanging out

They Could be Twins, Right?

2010-10-28T12:17:00.001-07:00

Sorry it's fuzzy, it is the only picture I got of her smiling. p.s. this was taken before the embellishments.

Feeling Goo-oo-ood

2010-10-25T17:14:00.004-07:00

There is no sensation that compares to the one that you get as you step into a nice hot shower on the first day of your period while your child naps.

If you are anything like me, then chances are good that you have taken some nice pain killing drugs to go along with that long hot shower that marks the end of an emotionally craptastic week.

I am sure you know that spectacular week that I am talking of. The one in which you are ready to commit yourself toward the end of it. The week in which your dear partner certainly should be able to read your mind and if he doesn't then he really has no business even breathing near you. And don't get me started on swinging between supermum/wife and the ugly fire breathing ogre that you see in the mirror that shouldn't be allowed within ten feet of any children.

All that garbage flows down the drain when I stand in the shower that could have no end.

Now... tell me. Do you have a sensation that beats mine? (try to keep it PG rated)

What do you want from me?

2010-10-25T16:24:00.003-07:00

LQ just fell asleep on the floor watching "space Mickey" for the umpteenth time. There is something about that green Martian Mickey that just speaks to LQ. I didn't WANT her to have a nap today which why she is passed out on yesterday's cracker crumbs.

I thought I would take this opportunity to blog. I could be doing a thousand other things and I probably should get on to that salad that I am supposed to take to Granny's place tonight and LQ's Belle dress isn't going to make itself. Neither is our bed for that matter. Have I mentioned the pyjama pants that LQ peed in last night before going to bed? I should probably get them out of the sink and into the washing machine.

Plenty to do, but blogging is what I choose to do instead. I am sure I will find a different reason for not doing them once I have finished this post.

I feel like I have lost my blogging way. Somewhere along the way I thought I got boring. I thought about what to write and then I would think "nobody wants to read that". And then I would not write it. I would try harder to think of something unboring but would just end up sounding lame and so I wouldn't write that either.

I want to write on my blog. I am far from my friends and family and I want them to know what is going on in my life. That is how my blog started out... then I moved closer to most of my friends and family (that read my blog) and so my blog's purpose kind of changed a bit. Now, here I am, struggling with the change in life but not the change in blog purpose. Just to clarify - I'm not struggling with the change in life (I am embracing most of it, in fact), I am struggling with the fact that my blog purpose hasn't changed along with the life change. Got it? Good. So I guess this is me announcing that my blogging style may change a little. Not a lot, I am sure, but just a little.

And there will probably be a lot more pictures. Of LQ. Doing... Everything. What can I say? She's adorable, particularly when she's crapping her pants in the middle of her pretend treasure hunt at the park. It has happened on two different occasions now. At the same park. Good thing she isn't peeing on the slides anymore.

Could it BE?

2010-10-20T12:57:00.001-07:00

Could this possibly be the worst picture ever taken? I came across this little beauty while looking for another photo. Behold my mother and two sisters in all their retarded glory.

Stuff

2010-10-13T21:03:00.003-07:00

I had this idea.

I would move to a different country and then I would change the look and name of my blog to represent the change in my life.

MEH!

I guess things haven't changed enough to rid me of my laziness.

The Tanks

2010-10-12T21:57:00.000-07:00

I am pretty certain I haven't let you in on my best secret.

My parents are crazy. And we like to call them Bob and The Bean. That is NOT their real names (kinda).

That may or may not be my best secret.

Living at their house for a whole month made me privy to slightly more of their craziness. Take for example "The Tank". Water Tank. Not Blow-up-your-enemies Tank.

My parent's house does not have access to town water so they have septic sewerage, grey water systems, strict four minute shower limits, a small dam and of course rain water tanks galore. Two particular steel tanks were showing a little wear and tear and Bob decided he would create a concrete tank stand. He also thought that fixing up the tanks was a good idea.

Bob and The Bean swung back and forth between wanting to buy new tanks and fixing up the ones they already had. They finally rested on fixing up the old ones.

They needed to get inside the tanks to clean up the rust and debris. The problem Bob and The Bean encountered was the small opening in to the tanks. Bob likes to do things his way, but the openings into the tanks only allowed The Bean in. If you have met my mother, you would understand how she manages to get herself in there.

Here is Bob Supervising The Bean

The Bean Trying not to pass out from de-rusting fumes

My parents may have inhaled more than just de-rusting fumes.

Dear DeNae

2010-10-02T22:31:00.002-07:00

I know... I have a lot to catch up on. But I have priorities and the current top priority is composing a poem for DeNae.

You see, LQ and I just got done driving from Mesa to Salt Lake City. Why you ask? I asked myself the same question about 20 times on that 15 hour drive (did you know driving by yourself with a child makes journey's longer than what you expect? I didn't). Lucky for me DeNae and her half family were there to break up that drive (8 hours into it). So for the following 7 hours of driving that I did today, I tried to think of a poem that I could share with you all in gratitude for all that DeNae did. This is what I've come up with so far:

Dear DeNae
Thank you for the hugs
and Thank you for the drugs

I've realised prose isn't my forte. But that pretty much sums up my visit with DeNae. LQ refused to sleep. I got a headache and had a slight (ahem) freakout about "stuff" that turned into full blown sobbing. I could have blamed my stuffy sounding nose on their retarded (DeNae's word, not mine) dog, but instead opted to tell the truth about my meltdown. DeNae's family do meltdowns well. Her son had the drugs on hand before I even had a chance to decide. The only other male I know who does that is my husband. Love, love, love that family.

Highlights of our stay include LQ stripping down to paddle in the pool. LQ crawling through the doggy door - butt naked - several times. DeNae was lucky enough to witness LQ's chubby bum just disappearing out the door. I have a sneaking suspicion that DeNae runs a nudist colony on the side. It's the only way I can explain LQ's sudden interest in being naked in front of strangers (and a retarded dog). OF course I forgot the camera. Other highlights: DeNae, eating cookie dough, eating yummy white bean chilli, DeNae and her wonderful family, the retarded dog (LQ loved her) and chatting with DeNae.

p.s I've made it to my destination and will be thoroughly enjoying my day tomorrow. LQ will be playing with the daughters of one of my best friends while I enjoy an entire day with my friend at General Conference. Cross your fingers I don't fall asleep!... What? I'm tired, alright.

Not a lot of Light in this Post

2010-09-20T05:10:00.003-07:00

We are leaving in two days.

We are taking what we can in six large suitcases, three carry-on suitcases and "personal" bags.

As an aside, I've seen women with "personal bags" that are larger than their carry-on suitcases, overflowing with who knows what, whacking unsuspecting flyers in the head as they totter past on their too-high-for-flying shoes. It gives me the willies.

... and while I can list off to you many reasons for being excited for this journey, at this point I am not sure any of those reasons would help.

The facts are: I love Hobart (and Tasmania) more than I can possibly explain; Dal and I both feel like this place fits us perfectly; The people we have met have become good friends fast; There aren't nearly enough negative things about Hobart and its people for me to be clambering to get on the plane.

Leaving all this makes me Sad. Sad is ok. I can do sad. I can handle it. But I am afraid. Afraid that the sad will turn into something more. And that I can't do.

Just over a year ago, I wrote about anti-depressants, miscarriages and other unhappy things. I have had depression before. When I was 19 I tried to check out of life for a while (Read: I took way too many anti-depressants with the intention of rendering myself unconscious). I like to think I am at least past that stage in my life. I have visited many psychologists, counsellors and psychiatrists who have given me a good number of coping skills. But the first half of last year saw me curled up on the floor paralysed by emotion too many times.

I guess I am afraid of a repeat. I know circumstances will be completely different, but still that voice of self doubt pops up every now and then telling me that I have a weakness. And conditions are ripe for my weakness to take over.

Even as I write this, though, I am reminded that there is also strength. Inner strength, spiritual strength, strength from my family and a strong husband (who is currently mumbling something about a "big fat Mario").

So here's to getting on that plane sad but not afraid.

We've been wearing this girl out

2010-09-11T00:42:00.003-07:00

It seems she can't wait until bed to go to sleep.

Yes. It's a toothbrush. And LQ has had a haircut.

We have been busy

2010-09-05T04:28:00.004-07:00

Dal, Hel and Bel have successfully moved into Hel's parent's house.

We are enjoying the cosiness of it all (for now).

We had the moving sale.

Hel didn't like selling Bel's baby clothes. Hel may have almost vomited when someone found the first outfit Bel ever wore. Dal also mentioned how hard it was letting go of Bel's things.

We packed things and more things appeared. We packed some more and the wardrobes spewed forth even more stuff. Hel became ruthless and started throwing out perfectly good shoes and clothes. But not one single part of her sewing cupboard was thrown out. Hel knows her priorities. We cleaned and weeded and mowed and moved. And then we handed our keys to the landlord. Hel did it with a lump in her throat.

Hel received word that her Visa interview is on the 14th September. Dal and Hel went crazy and bought flights to everywhere (not really everywhere, just to Sydney and LA).

Dal and Hel would like to announce that they will be touching down in America on the 22nd September (provided everything goes well with the Visa). Hel is excited she gets to see her brother as he passes through LA on his way home from his mission (French speaking in a part of Canada Hel can't quite remember right now).

Hel is tired. Dal is tired. And Bel is enjoying telling everyone what to do ("DANCE!!")

Hey There, Hi There, Ho There

2010-08-24T14:43:00.004-07:00

Happiest Place on Earth - here we come!

A truth revealed ... in the middle of the night

2010-08-16T07:49:00.001-07:00

We have hunkered down for the night.

I have just entered the moment of sleep when I am dreaming but still aware of the larger sounds surrounding me. A little voice calls out, ripping through my dream. "MUMMY!" A spate of croupy coughing immediately follows. "MUMMY!"

My response is automatic and I am still not completely awake. My covers are quickly flicked off and I jump to the floor like a reluctant superhero. I fumble around in the darkness trying to find the carelessly discarded pants that will save me from a certain death by cold night air. My plight is unsuccessful. Frantically I switch the wardrobe light on and then off in the hope of seeing the pants and not disturbing a sleeping husband. Second failure. Husband offers his services and ambles off to comfort the now distraught daughter.

The pants are found and put on. Who did I think I was anyway? My body finds its position back in bed and my eyes close. LQ will be prying them open sooner than I would like anyway. But sleep does not come. Lights come on and off. Too much noise is being made for a quick comfort and back to sleep ritual. More croupy coughing ensues. I am drawn to her room by pure curiosity.

Not only has LQ coughed herself awake she has also managed to dirty her pants in the process. Dal cleans up. We sit on the edge of LQ's bed, this small family, LQ huddles against Dal's shoulder - her body overcome with waning spates of coughing. As the coughing subsides a synchronised sigh comes slowly from both her parents.

"Where do you think she picks up these illnesses?" A whispered question from Dal that is too complex for me to answer. He continues in a hushed tone, making sure not to wake LQ "Do you think it is from Daycare?"

A surprising little voice whispers back from his shoulder, "Yes".

LQ has entered the phase of knowing everything.

Driving is not for the faint hearted

2010-08-15T03:36:00.000-07:00

I am a little nervous about moving to America.

It's not because I will be moving away from my family (although I will miss them incredibly). And it's not because I am afraid I wont make any friends (ppshht... this is me we are talking about - friend maker extraordinaire).

Nope - I am nervous because I am expected to navigate the opposite side of the road in a truck that even Dal hates to park. Ooohh.... my tummy goes all queasy every time I think of that big beast that is waiting for me. Waiting oh so silently, but ever so menacingly.

I think if I were to drive the same size vehicle here in Australia, I would be a little hesitant. But my confidence in my driving skills would take over and I would soon OWN that truck. But my first experience driving in North America leaves me with no confidence at all.

I was given a small hatchback to zip around in by the family I nannied for in Canada. It was the middle of Winter so I was a cautious and very safe driver. My sister and I were invited to have dinner with a few other young adults in the area, so I drove slowly in the dark to the appointed restaurant. It took all my concentration to remember that when I turned right I was to keep to the curb and when I turned left I needed to NOT turn into the oncoming traffic. All very confusing when you are trying to shift gears with the wrong hand. YOU try telling your brain to do the opposite to everything you have learned - I defy you not feel flustered and disorientated.

We had a very nice meal. Thank-you-very-much. We met new people, we laughed, we marveled at how inexpensive the meals were, and we couldn't quite grasp the concept of tipping.

And then my sister and I jumped into the car (not before both going to the wrong sides of the car and having a giggle about it). We were pleased with how well the dinner went and we discussed as I pulled out of the driveway. For a few blissful seconds nothing was wrong.

Then my sister started screaming at me. And because she was screaming, I couldn't understand a word she was saying. I looked at her and started piecing her screams together - my brain slowly forming the sentences that she was making. Quite obviously my cognition of her screams was a little slow for my sisters liking so she reached across to the steering wheel like a crazy woman and started wrenching at the wheel.

I fought with my crazy sister. I started girl slapping her away from me and doing quite a bit of my own screaming. Somehow through all the screaming and grabbing and slapping we managed to end up on the correct side of the road - the side with NO oncoming traffic.

Because we had been turning out from a driveway with no clear wrong and right sides, I had quite automatically turned left and kept to the curb. My sister thought she was going to die despite there being no traffic coming toward us at the time. By the time we corrected our position there were a few cars coming toward us, but they weren't to know that anything had been wrong.

I don't think my sister handled that situation all too well. Who tries to steer a car from the passenger seat while in hysterics anyway??!!

I am only glad my sister wont be there when I swing my "new" big truck into oncoming traffic. And if you happen to be in Mesa for the next 3 months or so, I suggest you give any big white truck you see a fairly wide berth. There's a good chance that after three months of driving, I still wont be sure where I am.

Can we be friends?

2010-08-11T03:36:00.004-07:00

I like to think I am an honest girl. I like people to know exactly what kind of person they are dealing with from the start. I don't think I own any pretenses. Some times this means I over share. I think you know what I mean.

I try to reign it in on my blog... writing things down means that I spew it out on the screen and then go back and delete if needed. The luxury of going back and deleting is not afforded when I am having a conversation with a friend or colleague. That is when I tend to over share. If it is pertinent to my story, I will give you a detailed background to my life. My life hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows, so the listener usually receives some tawdry detail along the way.

A few people that I know have commented (positively) on my honesty recently and it got me to thinking. There may be some who do not appreciate the kind of honesty that I offer. I am not an over talker (I don't think. Correct me if I'm wrong). I know when to shut up. So I am not writing about being an over talker. I am writing about someone feeling uncomfortable about the information I have shared with them.

In my own happy world everyone enjoys my company and wants to be my friend. I know that in reality there must be people who don't want to be a part of my life (sad, but true).

So, tell me. If you and I were having a face to face conversation, would you feel uncomfortable if I told you that I once had to run naked down a long street to distract the terrorists long enough for my family to escape from the sewer in which they were being held hostage?

All within the context of our conversation of course. Seriously, where do you draw the line between "yeah, we could be friends" and "oops, she's crazy"?

Camera Unload

2010-07-26T23:46:00.002-07:00

Our fridge is small and likes to freeze things. The freezing problem stems from the fridge being too small and things being shoved too far back. Many times our fresh produce freezes and becomes unusable. I thought I could solve the problem by just throwing our produce outside (it has been cold enough). I glanced outside the other day and couldn't stop giggling at the whole situation.

I have been taking all the DVD's out of their cases and putting them in little plastic pockets. This reduces the volume which is generally a good thing when you have limited space when moving internationally. LQ thought this pose might help sell the empty cases.

We finally celebrated Dal's birthday - five days later.

Speaking of birthday's, LQ's DayCarer had a birthday recently, so I spent the whole time I had without LQ making this for the Lovely "Hannah" (That's what LQ calls her).

LQ and I spent today rediscovering the dressing up box. LQ chose all my outfits.

When you're the best of friends...

2010-07-20T05:57:00.003-07:00

I am a lucky girl.

From all the moving around that I've done in my lifetime I have acquired a good set of friends. They are all as different as could be. There are different parts of each of their characters that complement my personality. My favourite thing about all these lovely people is that despite my really bad "keeping in touch" skills they still love me and want to be a part of my life.

As mentioned in the last post, Dal has been away. I have been reminded, again, that I just wouldn't cut it as a single mother. Hats off to all the single mothers out there - not sure where you find your inner strength because I sure as heck don't know where mine is.

I arranged a play date with a friend for today. She has an almost four year old and a one year old. If you've been around this blog long enough you may recognise "bibby's" name. LQ's bestie... she's the almost four year old. So Bibby's mum and I were looking forward to a good chat and rest from the girls while they played for hours with each other.

Yeah right. Every mother has fallen into that trap before - expecting something magical to happen to their kids. And that magical thing didn't happen.

The kids were feral... the mothers just needing a break... and I almost left. But I just needed to be out of the house. So I stuck it out.

And then we slobbed on the couch. We ate party pies for lunch. We ate too many cookies. We played puzzles and drew all over each other. "N" and I laughed at our kids. We looked at each other with tired and sick eyes and understood without saying anything. And then we went for a drive... just because the kids would be restrained.

I loved it. LQ loved it. And I love my friend for putting up with us for five whole hours. From an outsider's point of view it would have looked like the most unspecial kind of day. But to me it was my favourite.

I felt the love. Thanks N for the perfect day.

Hel in Real Life - A post devoid of emotion (maybe)

2010-07-18T05:33:00.002-07:00

What is really going on in my life. Just the cold hard facts - because sometimes I just waffle on on this blog.

In just under two months we are taking the Dal, Hel and Bel show to Mesa, Arizona (United States for anyone who is confused). We still don't have an exact date that we will be flying over because the great agent rates that Dal gets only work if we book the flights less than 30 days out. But we are planning on trying to get flights on the 5th, 6th or 7th of September.

We wont be taking much and that is ok, because for our entire married life, Dal and I have been preparing to move to the states. We have bought crappy furniture that we couldn't possibly become attached to (maybe). We have been ruthless with culling every time we move. So if you are in the Hobart area and feel like rummaging through our stuff and maybe giving a couple of dollars for something you think you may want, watch this space. I'll let you know when we plan to sell it all.

Dal's parents, particularly his mother, have been having lots of fun finding second hand furniture to fill the home we will be renting. I can't tell you how grateful I am to them for saving me from that added stress. Just between you and me, I have a feeling that Dal's mom has relished every moment of filling that house with furniture. I feel like we've done better than when we first got married!!! Thanks Mom (and Dad)!

Dal is currently in Vegas on a whirlwind tour for the agency he works for (DeNae he may have peeked in your window last night to say hello). He has had a couple of nights of debauchery and should be on his way to visit his mom shortly. We packed a couple of suitcases for him to take over. It was sad for me.

I have just finished up 2 1/2 months of part time work (monday to friday, 10am-3pm) as a fill in receptionist. I believe those 2 1/2 months took its toll on our little family. Priorities got pushed to the side and we switched to survival mode. I am now savouring every moment of my stay at home status and working towards getting back our "normal" life and routines.

LQ continues to dance and hasn't said "Ah, BUM!" in over a week. She will continue to go to family daycare once a week - on Friday's because that is when her best friend goes. Her best friend is a little boy just a bit younger than her and I have it on good authority that if you could bottle their constant giggles we could cure all sorts of terminal illnesses.

I made brownies today. The recipe called for FIVE eggs. That means they are the best brownies I have tasted in LONG time.

THE END. (Any Questions?)

Names changed to protect the innocent

2010-07-10T22:44:00.003-07:00

I received an email just about a week ago that made me laugh and cry at the same time. I asked the sender if I could post it on my blog. She wrote back and told me that I could put it on my blog if I didn't use her name - she said that she still likes people to believe she has it all together still. Which is probably one of the reasons why I laughed so much at the first email - it was such a delight to get such a raw and untouched account of her day. So without further ado... my friend's day.

Daughter didn't sleep last night. Well that's an exaggeration. She slept from 9-11 then 11:30-1 then 4-7 But Husband woke me up at 6. I've dragged myself through the day. Done absolutely nothing except go out to buy fast food. I've got a head cold to top it off. Daughter is choking on 2 min noodles (it took all my energy to make them) in the other room and I'm not even going to check on her. I'm sure she'll pull them up. One of those days I feel like a bad mother but I guess I'm just a sick and tired mother. She's giggling to herself now. Guess she didn't choke to death. Sigh... good to know I'm not the only one struggling to get through the day.
Did you get a nap?
A Friend told me that that mother that she nannied for that was a dancer would just sleep all day while her kids took care of themselves. They survived. I don't think I would be able to sleep though. I just put a movie on and cuddle with Daughter so if she moves I wake up.
Before I had Daughter I promised myself I wouldn't have crumbs in the car. Now as I put her into the car and she's cranky I say "Look Daughter a sultana from last week" and feed it to her and am thankful it was there. What has happened to me???
Hopefully we have a better day tomorrow. And I hope LQ feels better. Poor chicken.
xo

Love this girl

2010-07-08T04:35:00.002-07:00

Bum Indeed

2010-07-06T06:31:00.002-07:00

Last week I told Dal that he needed to start watching what he says in front of LQ. Her speech is becoming clearer so anything she repeats will actually be recognised now. Upon hearing my caution, Dal turned to LQ and asked her to repeat after him. She did so - word for word. My point was made. Dal thought it was hilarious.

I forgot to give Grandma the same memo so the start of last week saw the beginning of LQ's now favourite phrase - "Oh BUM!" Everywhere we went, if there was something that went slightly wrong, LQ would furnish us with an "Ah, BUM!"

It was very cute really until Sunday when she dropped her cracker during sacrament (for all the non-Mormons - kind of like when the wine and crackers are being handed out during mass). Everyone likes to be quiet and reverent during this sombre moment of Church. Of course things aren't so reverent when the 3 year old sitting at the back lets out an "AH, BUM!" while sitting next to her sixteen year old Uncle. Fits of giggles all round.

I am just thanking my lucky stars that Grandma didn't say "poop and bum" instead.

How NOT to make babies

2010-07-03T03:02:00.004-07:00

I am sure it is no secret that Dal and I want to have more than one child. We are really happy with the one we have (although sometimes you would be forgiven for thinking we are not) and would like more of the same.

For reasons we are not sure of just yet, we haven't been very successful in the baby making business this last year. We haven't been very proactive about it... just a kind of lazy baby making (Fi, are you freaking out yet? Too much information?).

Last month I said "ENOUGH". Time to get serious about this project (do you see my project list on the side there? It hasn't changed in almost 9 months. I am SO good at completing projects). So I went to the chemist and bought myself an Ovulation prediction kit. I stood in the baby making (or NON baby making) aisle in the chemist for way too long trying to decide if I wanted to catch my pee in a cup or for $5 more just pee on a stick. I guess I am cheaper than I thought because I went with the cup to save my $5.

And then I waited for the day to come when I could use my little kit. We didn't have too many visitors to the house that month, but the ones that came over and used our bathroom were lucky enough to be confronted with the whale sized box that my kit came in. Yep... the Petersen's are "TRYING".

The day arrived that I could start using my "pee in a cup" kit. It turned into an interesting juggling act when LQ walked in halfway through and wanted to help. I believe my attempt at being careful may have been more successful if I hadn't managed to throw pee all over myself and the walls. Don't worry, there was still some left in the cup to test. LQ was very interested in that part of the process too. I had to stand there for "not less than five minutes but no more than ten minutes" constantly pulling LQ's hand away from the specimen. "No, LQ. Yucky". Once everything had been cleaned up LQ proclaimed it a success and said "Good girl, Mummy. Good girl."

OI! I am pretty certain a woman with a similar experience to mine invented the pee on a stick version.

Side note: Dallas managed to be in Thailand when I ovulated. I am pretty certain that's NOT how you make babies.

It's Zee In America and Zed in Australia - Which one do I sing??!!

2010-06-19T19:54:00.002-07:00

A bit of Sunday Silliness.

And yes I realise I said that Dal would be posting his version of events on Monday. It was the following morning when Dal read my post that he became aware of his involvement in the process - and then life happened. I'm sure we'll get our act together one day and make this blog amazing.

Having a day out with my family means....

2010-06-14T00:54:00.003-07:00

Hel's Take

Today is a public holiday. Thank you to the Queen who had her birthday in April. We get to celebrate in June. I think it's kind of a kick in the pants really. Yes you may have a day off, but lets make it on what will inevitably be one of the coldest days of the year. But I'm not one to give up a holiday, so "Happy Birthday to the Queen".

Mum organised a day out while my sister is down visiting the family. Not sure if I've ever told you about any "Cluff Family Adventures", but if my mum ever asks if you want to spend a day or a week away with the family I would advise running away - FAST. If you think screaming will help, do that too. A couple of memorable moments come to mind.... Dad splitting his head open while ice skating, seven hours of motion sickness, "Carobana" (that one's for my sisters).

Our destination today - Hastings Cave. A good hour and half drive from Hobart. I got up early with LQ so we could get a few house chores done before we left for the cave at 10am. In what Dal will tell you is true Hel style, we didn't leave the house until 20 minutes after 10. That's ok, I'm pretty certain my family has the same genes as me. Before racing out of the house, I quickly checked google maps. Our printer doesn't work, so I tried to memorise the hour and half worth of directions. I was pretty certain I'd be fine.

Knowing that the Police would be out looking for those holiday "hoons" I kept my speed to just at the limit sometimes even below. We came to a fork in the highway - the same highway going in two different directions. I couldn't remember google maps telling me about this! I veered left - the wrong way. I kept driving looking for a sign to point me in the right direction. I found a sign. It was directly after another sign telling me to slow my speed down. Which I didn't do because I was too busy studying the sign with the directions. I continued to study the sign with directions as I sped toward the policeman standing in the middle of the road trying to wave me down. I feel lucky that I have a husband concerned with the welfare of our local policemen, or I would have run that man right down without realising it. Despite his near miss the dear policeman was very nice and gave me a bit of leniency with my speeding fine. All his niceness couldn't have stopped the tears from flowing, though. It is my second speeding fine in Three days!

An hour and a half of The Wiggles later, we arrived at the cave visitors centre and sat down to eat lunch. LQ fell apart. She wanted juice, she wanted chocolate milk. I bought her chocolate milk. She didn't like chocolate milk. Grandpa drank the chocolate milk. LQ fell apart because of Grandpa. The tears flowed, Grandpa bought two more different drinks that were no good to LQ. Dal managed to keep the tears at bay and we continued on to the main event - The Cave. Dal suggested we put LQ in a nappy while we were in the cave. I said I'd take one in with me and if she said she needed to go we could put her in one. We had a backpack to put LQ in so she didn't have to walk too far. LQ loved it. LQ wanted cuddles with daddy. LQ wanted cuddles with mummy. LQ wanted to walk. LQ wanted cuddles with daddy. LQ peed her pants while being held by daddy. A strong smell of urine permeated the cave for a short time. We hung at the back of the group for a while. Poor Dal had a nice wet stain all down his leg and all over his arm.

LQ insisted we find monkeys and tigers while we were in the cave. No monkeys or tigers could be found. The only thing that kept LQ happy was a torch that the nice tour guide loaned her. LQ searched for cave crickets and spiders with her torch.

We finally left the cave. It was an amazing experience, but could have done without the general unwell feeling that you get in a cave. We also could have done without the peeing incident. It was our intent to swim in the hot springs after, but LQ seemed too tired. It didn't stop her from insisting loudly that she wanted to swim. Several minutes later we were on our way home saying good bye to the monkeys. LQ cried because she didn't get to see the monkeys or tigers. I told her to shut her eyes and dream about the monkeys. I looked back about a minute later and her little eyes were still tightly squeezed shut, presumably still thinking about the monkeys she didn't get to see.

Tomorrow - Dal's take on spending a day with Hel's family.

Wheeeeeeeeee!

2010-06-12T07:32:00.004-07:00

I have started a few posts in the past two weeks, but none of them seemed any good. Who knows, this one may go by the way of the last two - to the land of "no good posts".

Life seems to have really taken me by the hair and swung me around. I feel like I am still spinning. Or more to the point, I feel like I am just keeping up with my own life.

I have been working as a fill in receptionist recently while the company tries to find a new receptionist. It turns out I'm what they want and have asked me to stay, but I am leaving the country in a few short months, so that doesn't quite fit in with their plans of keeping me. I am kind of relieved that I have that cut off date. If I didn't have that date I am certain I would just keep on keeping on and never end up going back to my stay at home status. And I so desperately want that status back.

If there was going to be anything to make me appreciate being a stay at home mother, it was going back to work. I am now completely and fully aware of where I feel best and it is at home with my sweet daughter. Hanging out, wondering if I am doing "enough" with her during the day. It seems all that is currently happening is a few sweet moments between her late late naps, picking daddy up from work and bed time.

So in an effort to snatch those few precious moments that remain untouched by the outside world, I have kept my blogging to a minimum. I am sure that there will be moments in the next three months when I need to reach out and feel your friendship, so I hope you stick around during my time of retreat. I have a feeling that there are going to be a few emotional moments as I prepare to leave this country of mine.

Impressions of a Wonderful Life

2010-05-31T21:21:00.004-07:00

Guest Blogger: Dal
(Disclaimer: I must apologise upfront to all you faithful readers of Hel's fabulous blog. I was invited to compose a post for Hel's birthday. The following is certainly not up to the standard of Hel's usual posts, but I have given it my best shot. This post comprises something I have been pondering lately, and I wanted to share it on Hel's blog. Please forgive my emotional excesses and eccentricities.)

Have you ever suddenly arrived at the end of a week and wondered, to yourself, where all the time went? A week is comprised of seven days, which equals 168 hours, or 10,080 minutes. Even if we spend one third of that sleeping, we are still left with at least 112 hours per week with which to do... stuff. To be honest, I am not sure what I do with all that time. It certainly seems like I should have time to burn. But I don't.

Life has a crafty way of sweeping most of us along for a rather bumpy ride. And no matter how much we may be enjoying the ride, or wishing we could get off, time rhythmically ticks a staccato in the background. For this reason I feel it is important to have anchors in life. Anchors help us to hold fast to the things in life that really matter. Without these anchors we could find ourselves adrift, trying to navigate our way through rough seas, but without a real purpose or fixed destination.

It may be a shortcoming of my youth, but I truly feel that my life is important. I think. I feel. I am. I matter. This rather biased look at my self and my worth does not stem from my past achievements, or a delusional projection of what I will achieve in the future. I do not matter because of my work or anything I do at my job. I hope that this feeling is not just a product of my youth, but that I will feel the same way when I am seventy, eighty, or even ninety years old. I hope my life has taken on even greater depth and meaning when I mature in age. I believe my sense of purpose and importance stems from my anchors. The most important anchors in my life are my family, the gospel, and art. These three anchors give me a sense of purpose, remind me of what is truly important, and help me to see and appreciate the beauty that is all around.

Unfortunately, I am as guilty as anyone of devaluing the exquisite worth of my family. My wife is the single most important person in my life. I would be nowhere without her (I would also be a creepy 30 year old man who feasts on spam and creamed corn while endlessly playing Final Fantasy every weekend, alone). I find it so easy to get swept along the current of life and forget to appreciate her daily efforts. But she is as much an essential part of my life as the features on my face. (Yes, I just compared my wife to my face, but please, indulge me for a moment.) I have grown so accustomed to seeing my face, that it is easy to ignore it, although it is always there. My face has always been there, and will always be there. The contours of my face often change, the lines deepen, and the hairline recedes (hair?). I could not imagine a life without my face, it is a crucial part of who I am.

I find it rather profound that my wife is also such an accepted and essential part of my life. I just assume she has always been there and always will be there. I remember a time without her, but it's hazy, shadowed, and oddly, feels a bit empty. Although Hel is a part of me, she is also separate from me. In actual fact her life, feelings, and emotions are just as fragile as mine and could change in a heartbeat. It is wrong of me to just accept Hel as part of me, like an appendage, and I should always let her know just how essential she is, and how much she matters. It is an exquisite feeling to know that I have the privilege of sharing my life with Hel, and extraordinary that she has so easily become another part of me. A part that I didn't know I was missing. How keenly would I now feel her loss if she were to disappear? In the swift passing of time I find it crucial to stop for just a moment, as often as possible, and truly appreciate Hel's worth to me and my life as my most profound (and skinny) anchor.

LQ is a more elemental anchor. It is impossible to forget she is there. If she were an appendage she would be akin to a hand that uncontrollably smacks me in the face. The hand doesn't need anything, just wants to continually remind me of its presence. I could escape LQ as easily as I could escape falling down in the middle of an earthquake. But somehow, I know I wouldn't want to escape her, even if I could. Her love for me is unquestioning, and my love for her is fierce. Next to her, all other earthly possessions seem like so much inconsequential dust. I may spend 10 hours a day working as a travel agent, but it is for the 2 hours I get to spend with LQ each evening that truly give my life meaning.

The Gospel of Jesus Christ, or my particular version of it (LDS, if you're curious), has always been a part of me. I could remove this completely from my life as easily as I could step out of my skin. My feelings and dedication to the gospel run very deep, and this helps keep all other aspects of my life in the proper perspective. The gospel confirms my unique place in the universe, teaches me to adore Hel and revere the sanctity of women, and also instills humility by encouraging service to all around me. This anchor keeps me pointed toward the right direction.

I can think of few anchors with more power than art. What better element is there to teach about the world around me? Whether it be films, books, music, or other forms of fine art, these impressions of life have always kept me grounded by touching on truths that are difficult to expose otherwise. I have always had an personal affinity to film. This form of art takes the elements of music, dialogue, photography, acting, direction, production design, and several other variables to create a collage of life. Certain films have the power to touch our very souls, instruct us, and uplift us. Other films do no greater than make us laugh, but how profound can laughter be at the right moments in life? No matter how awful my day has been, a great movie will always uplift me and prime me for watching another. Consider also the power of great music, or the magic of an excellent story. As anchors, all forms of art can take us out of the monotonous current of life and remind us how exquisite this world truly is.

Do you have anchors in your life? What do you have that serves as a reminder of your exquisite worth? Most of us spend the bulk of our time sleeping, eating, working, and sitting in traffic. What will you remember about your life when you are ninety? It probably won't be the hours you spent sitting in traffic. Remember your greatness. Remember the beauty around you. Try and drop as many anchors as you can while time steadily drums on. Do not let another week sweep by with nothing to hold you steady.

From Helen: I loved all the suggestions for celebrating my birthday. I REALLY liked the idea of karaoke, Steph! But didn't find a karaoke place in time - maybe next time. Random.org picked the first comment as the winner of my chocolate care package - The Damsel in Dis Dress. Love the Damsel, visit her blog - now! Damsel, if you would like some insane chocolate from Aus, email me with your address.

A Very Happy UnBirthday

2010-05-25T04:05:00.002-07:00

First things first - I wanted to thank you for showing your love on my post before the LQ update. It was really nice to see a few newbies and of course my "old faithful" blogging friends.

Did you know I study out information before I write my posts sometimes?

Today I researched my past birthday blog posts. LAME! The first birthday that I had while blogging went completely unnoticed. The second year I blogged through my birthday. Want to know what I did for my birthday last year? Woke up too early, crashed on the couch and felt entitled to a day without child.

Pathetic. How does an extrovert miss two BIG opportunities for unabashed loving on herself? This year I am determined to do it differently.

I have a husband who will write a blog post about how wonderful I am - he doesn't know that he's doing that yet, but husbands are supposed to do those things, aren't they? Then I was thinking of doing something with the wonderful friends that I've made here in Hobart.

the problem: I am at a loss as to what to do. I have a feeling that I will just be too tired to feel like doing anything. So, do I just sleep for my birthday or spend quality time with friends and family (if yes, what should I do with them?)? My brain is fried - I need YOU to make the decision for me.

As an incentive to make my decisions for me, I'll randomly pick a comment from this post on my birthday and send that person a chocolate care package. You know you need it!

LQ can now be classified as a Preschooler

2010-05-23T02:05:00.000-07:00

I usually do google searches like this:

"My toddler is vomiting, what should I do?"

"What is the best way to get my toddlers hand out of the cookie jar?"

"My toddler refuses to eat anything I give her, HELP"

"My toddler is refusing to do wee wee, should I give up potty training?"

"It took my toddler 2 hours to go to sleep last night, HELP"

The list goes on. Type in toddler and you will get a reasonable number of suggestions all within the correct range of age (2 - 3). Now that LQ has turned three I realise that I have now graduated to asking google about Preschoolers, NOT toddlers.

Some other things you may need to know about LQ (should there be a pop quiz one day).

LQ likes to say "Sowwy" (sorry). The problem with the constant sowwy's is that I am not sure she quite understands why she should say sowwy. I accidently bump her juice out of her hand: "Sowwy Mummy, Sowwy". She walks into a wall "Sowwy Mummy, Sowwy".

She is also constantly concerned about other's welfare. "are you ok, mummy?"

"I'm ok, LQ. Are you ok?"

"I ok."

The trick to this little exchange is that you MUST ask her if she is ok or she will continue to ask you if you are ok. When I let out the occasional barrage of abuse to passing drivers she always looks quite concerned and asks if I am ok. I wish she would stop - it's hard to stay angry at someone when your child does something really cute immediately after.

LQ's speech is coming along nicely. An interpreter is usually still needed, but at least the interpreter (me) can now mostly understand her.

LQ is now officially a daddy's little girl. No amount of mummy hugging can take the place of one little daddy hug. It breaks my heart whenever she chooses daddy over me. And in the spirit of good sportsmanship, Dal usually has a nice smirk on his face when he wins - until he realises that he now has to deal with LQ. He confessed the other day that he smiles because he knows how much it bothers me. Nice.

"33eytecfffgfghd" - directly from the fingers of LQ.

4eaazzzzzzasasaassssssssssss hnggjhgjhhghfgmhdrtrgtswa,mfhhgjkjkm,m l,,, - ok, that's enough from LQ.

LQ's favourite movie at the moment is "Monsters Inc." When I first watched Monsters Inc I didn't think it was a fantastic movie - it just seemed a little ordinary. Now I feel its ordinary-ness is what makes it easier to watch ten times a day. Of course Dal and I have our favourite lines that we wait for every time it is on.

LQ is also aware of the difference between boys and girls now. She walked in on Dal having a shower the other day and randomly started laughing hysterically. I am not certain what exactly she was laughing at, but it was definitely funny watching her point and laugh at Dal.

Cooking still makes LQ very happy. Since using a recipe that involves rubbing butter in to the flour with your hands, LQ has insisted on putting her hands in EVERY mixture we create.

My favourite thing about LQ at the moment is the great enjoyment she gets from singing along to songs. As soon as she is strapped into her carseat she calls out "WAGGLES!!" (Wiggles). If there is a song that she particularly likes she will request "LOUD". She is very much her father's daughter being quite adept at picking out the accompaniment and background beat to any song.

Whenever we read stories to LQ she will always point out a daddy, an LQ and a mummy. Somehow this means I always end up being the wicked stepmother in Cinderella, after LQ becomes Cinderella and Daddy turns into Cinderella's daddy. Of course Dal sometimes ends up being a monkey, so I think we are almost even.

Just out of curiosity

2010-05-11T03:50:00.002-07:00

I am interested in who regularly reads my blog. I have noticed a jump in visits to my darling little blog. The jump has baffled me because I know that I haven't suddenly acquired 30 more friends in Hobart in the last week.

So show me some love and leave a comment. It can even be anonymous like my mum!

I promise this will be the only time I beg for comments.

And while you are commenting, here's a picture of LQ to enjoy. She is having a tea party with Bunny Bear and Piglet in her blanket house - if you couldn't tell. LQ requested that I take a picture of her and her friends.

Refocusing Motherhood

2010-05-09T05:12:00.003-07:00

Three Mothers Days have come and gone since I was bestowed the title of "Mother".

The title of Mother has scared me, confused me, given me hope and given me joy. I have floundered with my motherhood. I have struggled to stay afloat as the title overwhelmed me and the duties and responsibilities pulled me down, suffocated me and then threw me back up allowing me to catch my breath.

Many days have ended with me deep in thought, wondering what it is I am actually supposed to be doing. I know my role is to nurture my child, but what does that mean and how do I fit my personality to that particular word? Nurture. Why don't women get a manual or at best a Position Description before they enter the world of motherhood? For many months now I have considered the importance of knowing what is expected of me - having my own Position Description.

I knew that whenever I entered a new job BC (Before Child) I found that reading my position description and knowing exactly what was expected of me helped me form my days. Tasks that were given to me were prioritised based on my understanding of what my position was and who I ultimately reported to. I really felt as though my lack of understanding of my position as a mother is what contributed to the floundering feeling I was beginning to get more often.

So I set out to give myself a position description. I am not talking about those email forwards that you get from time to time to make mothers feel all important about themselves. I really wanted something meaty that if I started to feel directionless I could look at it and refocus myself.

This is what I came up with (this position description contains some words used by "Mormons" that you may be unfamiliar with. Click on the link and you will be taken to a description of what it means. Of course you can adapt this description to incorporate your own values or religion):

Position Description - Motherhood

Key Objective

The key objective of Motherhood is to raise children who desire to return to live with Heavenly Father and live worthy of that desire, have a testimony of the gospel and are upright citizens who glory in doing good and resisting iniquity.

The Scope of the Position

The Mother, in partnership with the Father, reports directly to Heavenly Father with the responsibility of day-to-day management of educational, spiritual and physical needs of children placed in the family. The Mother liaises with a scope of people both inside and outside the home and places the nurturing of her children above all else.

Principal Accountabilities

Understand, demonstrate and model your family core values in day-to-day interactions with internal clients, external clients and the community.
Recognise and provide teaching opportunities on a daily basis
Oversee all family financial needs in collaboration with your husband
Teach children by example and also by precept
Rear children in love and righteousness, provide for their physical and spiritual needs and teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live.

Duties

Your duties list will contain all day to day tasks needed to be accomplished to achieve your principal accountabilities. Duties could include talking to your child about their day; providing home made meals five times a week, etc. I am yet to do my comprehensive list of duties. But I am sure you get the idea.

********************************************************************************

This position description has already helped me refocus on what is important. Reminding myself daily that I am to report to Heavenly Father each evening instills more patience, more joy and peace in my day. If I can honestly say each evening that I am happy with how I conducted myself that day, then I know that Heavenly Father is happy with how I am looking after his child.

Motherhood doesn't always chew me up and spit me out, but now when it does I don't feel so alone and overwhelmed. I evaluate my actions against my PD and start afresh the next morning.

*Note: My Position Description contains bits and pieces of scripture, paragraphs from The Family: A Proclamation to the World and various position descriptions found online.

My Girls Let Me Down

2010-05-06T08:00:00.001-07:00

I am going to put it out there. If you are a man, look away now.

I am well endowed in the chest region. I thought I'd specify where exactly I am well endowed because some people may get confused. But I am a girl and usually if a girl says she is well endowed it means she has a fine pair of girls to hold up.

I haven't always loved my girls. In fact I am mostly giving them warnings that if they don't start shaping up, then I am going to get rid of them. Dal usually has something to say about that, but if I started talking about that then I would be going off on a tangent. Let's stick to the story, ok?

Since becoming a mother I have found more uses for my girls than I thought humanly possible. Of course there is the major breastfeeding coup. That's always a surprising talent to acquire.

There is another talent that I have found quite useful in these new desperate times.

Should I be found with no pockets and I need to hide something quickly from LQ, I will pop the item down between the girls. They keep the item safe until there comes a time when I can hide it properly. Sometimes the item that is shoved down there is just in need of safe keeping so it doesn't get lost. If you were ever lucky enough to look down there you would mostly find my mobile phone or LQ's "bip bip" (pacifier).

However, Wednesday saw an unfamiliar item find it's way into the safe keeping of the girls. I was lucky enough to schnuggle one of the cutest babies around. This little baby girl has the best shock of black hair you will ever get to see. It seems that every time that I see this baby girl, her mother has put a different clip in her hair. CUTE. The clip she had in her hair on Wednesday wasn't staying in though. I thought I had taken it out and put it away safely. But when we started searching it was nowhere to be found. Not to worry there's plenty more where that came from.

Several hours (I am talking at least five) I randomly brush my hand up against my stomach. There's something there. I lift the three layers of clothing up from my skin to reveal a cute little clip sitting on my belly button. I don't remember giving it to the girls. Whether I gave it to them or not - my girls let me down. They shirked their duty and passed it on to my stomach, which, given time, will probably do the job just as well. But not just yet.

Status - Married

2010-05-04T22:57:00.003-07:00

There was once a time before Dal and I were married.

I would occasionally watch the original CSI (no other CSI stacks up). There were many dead guys to be identified and many suspects to be undone. One particular dead guy while laying on the slab gave up a secret with an indent on his finger.

There was no wedding ring on the left hand of this man that had met an untimely demise but those fabulous CSI knew instantly he was a married man because of the indent that his wedding ring had made over time.

Despite it being a morbid scene, I was touched. I could not wait for the day that I could be identified as being married just by the indent on my finger.

I forgot to put my rings back on my finger today after my weekly shower. It was only as I drove away from dance class this morning that I noticed - and quietly celebrated. I had achieved Indent Status.

Potty Training - The Long Story

2010-05-04T05:40:00.003-07:00

I may be one of the last to have jumped on the "Stats" band wagon, but now I have a detailed analysis of who is visiting my blog. Except I am really not sure how to use all those stats. I click on my stats link to find out how many people visited my blog today and I stare. All those different ways of looking at the same numbers.

One thing I do love looking at is the keyword searches that lead people to my blog. From my stats page I have learned that there are a LOT of people looking for "I am a Lady and I do ladies things". A few people come over to see my candy corn and paint pots. And then there's those people who come directly to my post about how I may be thinking about potty training LQ. I know those people. They are the desperate parents searching for any small idea on how to get their child to reach the mecca of poo poos and wee wees.

I HAVE DONE IT!

And because I know that all those desperate parents are looking for is some sort of magic word, I am going to give it to you.

Chocolate and Perseverance.

There is nothing in this world that motivates LQ more than chocolate. By design, my little LQ is a rather stubborn child. She isn't stubborn about much, but when she gets it into her head to do (or NOT DO) something there is no stopping her. I tried EVERY trick there was to be sold to me. Charts, stickers, prizes and even ridiculous potty monster crackers (please don't ask. It's still a fresh "buyers regret" wound). It wasn't until after Easter that I realised that I finally had something I could bribe LQ with. And so the bribery began.

Find your bribe.

And this is where we get on to perseverance. It doesn't matter how many tricks you are sold, please don't be fooled into thinking your child should be going potty within "3 to 5 days". It's really nice if it happens, but sometimes it doesn't. And that is why YOU need to decide that you really want it.

I have learned by trial and error that the only things that get done in our household are the ones that I really want to do. I am sure as a parent to a younger child you will know the drill.... there is that critical boiling point that you get to where you think that if you don't change what is happening you are going to go completely insane. eg. sleeping routine (good heavens I HATE having to retrain LQ to settle herself every time we stray from the "routine").

That critical boiling point is where I got to on my fourth and final try at potty training. I gritted my teeth and pushed on through. Even when LQ held her pee pee in for two days straight and stood right in front of me as the urine streamed down her leg, I knew that there was no more turning back - something in my brain had snapped.

Finally, remember that potty training is like parenting. No one has the perfect answer because no one has raised YOUR child. Likewise, no one knows how to potty train your child because your child is unique. You can get tips but you still need to do the old trial and error kind of parenting to get it right.

Note: I also found it handy to have a chart to record every emission. After a couple of days you realise that there is a rhythm to all this excess waste. LQ also liked the little chart I had of what she needed to do before and after going potty (pull pants down, shut lid, flush, wash hands). She really enjoyed telling ME what I needed to do.

LQ's Third Birthday

2010-05-01T05:13:00.002-07:00

I told my sister I was above it. I told her that I didn't need to give my child a big birthday party. I was on course with keeping that vow. LQ's first birthday consisted of a number seven candle, some disgusting store bought cupcakes and a crying fit to end all crying. Her second birthday may have been a little better, but we didn't stray far from the first birthday experience.

I thought it would be fun to organise a birthday party for her. She's three now, so she'd be able to appreciate it at least. She did. But it was a lot of work for me, because I tend to make things bigger than they really should be.

Here is her birthday in pictures. Be prepared... my sister is just as snap happy as I am - there a LOT of pictures.

Setting Up

Chocolate Chip Cookies & Play Time

Pizza and Cuddles

Eating the Cookies

Decorating the Cake

Eating the Pizza

Blowing out the Candles and Enjoying the Presents

Did you make it through all those pictures? CONGRATULATIONS!!!! You win the "Most Patient Person of the Year" Award. OR you are one of LQ's many grandparents.

I am asking everyone

2010-04-14T20:02:00.002-07:00

I have just posed this question of Facebook and I thought I would try here too.

Has anyone had a young child who caught cold and coughs as often as at least once a month lasting for at least two weeks? And on top of that, has said sick child gotten to the point every time that he or she was coughing during the night until he/she vomits?

We go to the doctor each time and all LQ gets is another round of antibiotics. I asked for a referral to a paediatrician this time and the doctor told me that it wouldn't be worth my time because there wasn't anything generally wrong with LQ. I want to scream. Help me if you can.

SNOT AND CHOCOLATE

While we are away

2010-04-06T16:15:00.003-07:00

While we have been away, Dal has written lots of beautiful emails to us. I asked Dal's permission to post one of his emails on our blog. Here it is:

Dear Isabel,
It has now been over one week since you have gone away. Oftentimes I am scrolling through the channels on the TV and I will come upon Playhouse, Postman Pat, The Waybuloos, and several of your other favorite shows. I will sit and watch them for a moment, hoping that the cheerful dialogue and uplifting music will somehow summon you from your bedroom where you will toddle up to me, scoot your way onto the couch next to me and give me cuddles while we watch TV together.

Piglet is very anxiously awaiting your return as well. Every morning I will open the door to your bedroom where I find Piglet propped up on your pillow looking sadly at the little television which has remained off since you left. The Mickey and Minnie quilt also eagerly await your return so we can all (Mickey, Minnie, Piglet, Bunny Bear, and Daddy) snuggle up on the bed, watch a few episodes of Donald Duck, and then read "Olivia" and "Where Is The Green Sheep" before going to sleep.

Your ladder is also very lonely, sitting next to the refrigerator unused and forgotten. Tonight Daddy made pizza and had to slice the French bread, cut the pepperoni, and sprinkle the cheese all by himself because the ladder had no one to stand on.

Daddy knows you are having fun eating chocolate, going to the beach, and playing with Kirra Louise. Daddy has also been having fun reading his book, watching movies, and eating chocolate of his own. But the chocolate has slightly lost its savor. Daddy was waiting to hear the patter of awkward footsteps the moment he started crinkling open the chocolate wrapping, but you did not come and Daddy had to eat the chocolate all by himself.

Please be good for Mummy and remember to obey her when she asks you to eat your dinner, brush your teeth, or go to bed. You are almost three years old now and becoming such a grown up beautiful girl. Just remember that Daddy loves you and he cannot wait for you to come home and give him cuddles.
Love, Daddy

PS. Daddy is saving LOTS of chocolate!

When will my life stop being so hard?

2010-03-26T20:26:00.002-07:00

In a few short hours LQ and I will be on a plane again.

We are off for another two and a half week vacation - this time to my old stomping grounds.

I know it is a hard life I lead, but I shoulder the burden well. I probably wont be posting too much while I am there, so I'll leave you with our Disneyland pictures.

I didn't edit them so you will just have to put up with the bad lighting in some of them.

Looking Back

2010-03-24T03:43:00.003-07:00

My parents own a dog.

Her name is Tessa. I was still in high school when they got her. My youngest brother hasn't known a time in his life without her. She smells bad, all the time. She can't control her gaseous emissions. When I first came home from America (after becoming engaged) I was given the task of looking after the house and the dog. It was a lonely period of my life and for a bit of company in the evenings I would let her in the house. I could pick when I would need to leave the room because just before I detected the smell with my nose I would hear a tiny "pffft". That tiny "pffft" was no indication of how lethal that smell was.

But this isn't a post about Tessa's bad smells.

Back in her Hey Day, Tessa liked to stretch the arms from our bodies as we held the leash when we took her for a walk. It was decided she needed dog obedience school. Off she went with the only sucker who seemed to have the time on a Tuesday evening to take her - ME.

The first lesson the owners learned was that if the dog seemed to be lacking, it was the owners fault. Most weeks I left in tears. Tessa refused to do anything that the other dogs were doing. And all because she couldn't stop looking at the other dogs. When we asked to show how our dogs heeled, Tessa would walk beside me, only backwards so she could see what the other dogs were up to. Walking in out of the circle of dogs was pure hell for me.

I think I may have given up after the third or fourth week of wretched humiliation.

I was reminded of this part of my life as I watched LQ dancing this morning. It lightens my soul to see how delighted and animated LQ becomes when she knows she will be dancing. Her excitement overflows throughout the class and she will let out an occasional squeal that sounds insuppressible. She tries so hard to stay in line waiting for her turn, but sometimes it just takes too long. When every other little bottom was swaying from side to side with the music, LQ couldn't help but run all around the large room, squealing as she flapped her arms.

What is most familiar to me each week is when dance teacher "J" is showing the class what to do. She will change what she is doing every so often and each little child tries to follow along. Except LQ whose back is to Teacher J while she looks at each and every child who is behind her.

Today was an "Inside" Day

2010-03-22T04:24:00.001-07:00

Time for a change in Management

2010-03-17T12:44:00.001-07:00

I am MOTHER, hear me roar!

I wonder if you remember this post about Doormats and Feelings. I can NOT believe it was four months ago. It really feels like it only happened a day ago.

Some really great advice was given and taken. I decided to pick and choose my battles. Unfortunately the battles that I decided were not worth the fight were the only battles that LQ came up with. LQ is generally a very easy going little girl. She doesn't demand much, so when she makes a request I usually acquiesce. If she protests a decision I make it is usually such an unimportant thing I will let her have her way.

I didn't realise I was creating a monster.

Two and a half weeks of vacationing and letting LQ have whatever she wants and the monster had grown six tentacles.

This morning saw the Mummy and the Monster go head to head in a battle of hair and wills. The Mummy explained quite exactly and nicely that if the Monster wanted to go dancing, then the Monster's hair would have to be pulled up. The usual meltdown occurred. The Mummy decided that it was time that she started being the boss of the house again. A lot of screaming and hair doing meant the Monster's reign was over.

The change in Management means I am going to have to win EVERY battle for a while. I am going to be a meanie mum. I am not going to collapse with tears every time I hear my daughter cry with frustration. I am going to re-establish order in this home. I AM the boss!

Just a man

2010-03-16T03:40:00.004-07:00

*Ahem* - cough - cough.

You didn't really think I was going to do 500 posts? 500 = 5 in the world of Hel.

Actually I have every intention of following through with my threat, but it is not going to be an every day affair. Too much is going on right now for me to really make that sort of commitment. I don't know what I was thinking when I announced to the world that I would post 500 days in a row. One day I will do it, but not starting today.

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But this post is not about posting. It is about Dal.

I don't write much about Dal on this blog. He used to do movie reviews for us a season ago, but I guess he and I are alike in that regard - blogging doesn't hold our attention for long enough.

We have officially started our fifth year of marriage today. And although a total of four years doesn't mean a lot in the world of marriage, I am secretly pleased with how our marriage has gone so far.

It is all Dal's fault. Our marriage is so perfect because he is the. single. most. ever-loving, patient, wonderful man you will ever have the pleasure of meeting. If you are single, let me give you a tinsy bit of unsolicited advice. Come and spend a few days with us. Watch and learn how a woman SHOULD be treated (from Dal, good heavens, he treats me better than I treat myself). Once you feel as though you know Dal, then search. Search for a man exactly like him. Isn't my advice helpful?

When you are here, you will see a man who tolerates mountains of clean clothes on HIS side of the bed. Most evenings he patiently scoops up my best intentions of folding and puts them back in the baskets, only to have the best intentions confront him the following evening.

You will also see a man who takes an interest in what I do every day. A man who applauds when I tell him I was able to have a shower today. Because he knows that it is an enormous accomplishment. There is not only applause, there is also celebration. And I glow from all the praise.

You may also get to see a man who rolls with the punches. A man who realises that a cuddle in bed is ten times better than any advice he may want to give. He is a man who doesn't tell me to "get over it" after hearing the same problem for the 20th time that week. A man who KNOWS that even if it IS hormones it is still okay to be sympathetic.

Dal is also the sort of man who will always want some sort of physical contact with me. Not always in the most romantic way (have I told you the first time we met he flicked me on the leg? It set my heart aflutter) but the constancy is a gentle reminder of his love for me. Really, he doesn't beat me... I promise!

If you stay up late enough, you will probably see the man that rolls out of bed when all I can do is feebly say "yes" when the call of "MUMMY!" comes in through the door in assaulting waves.

I could continue for quite some time giving you a smug list of wonderful attributes my husband possesses. His gentleness, his humour, his smarts, etc, etc, and so forth. It is only because I fear a smack down from someone wanting to get on with their life and finish my post that I stop.

And if you really think I have no business gloating about four years of marriage, go on over to this blog. She's been married for 25 years and writes a LOT better than I do.

Flaking out

2010-03-11T00:25:00.001-07:00

That's right... I am taking a day off from my 500 posts. Disneyland got the better of me. I have one more day to cram as much fun into and then we are off back to Australia. I am hoping my memories come back tomorrow.

500 DoM - Day Five

2010-03-09T23:52:00.002-07:00

A favourite picture is placed carefully in my photo album.

The picture shows two small children peeking mischievously out from an old sixties model Volkswagon Van. They know that hidden somewhere in that van is a treasure of untold wealth and luxury - Minties!

Each visit made by the children's Grandma to their home in Northern Queensland means a packet of sugary goodness just for them. But the real treat is trying to find the Minties in her traveling Volkswagon. So many places to look. Comfort oozing from every corner of the vehicle. Well worn sheepskin covers. It is a playground for a 4 and 6 year old.

Many people knew Grandma by her van. We knew her by her smell, her Minties AND her van.

500 DoM - Day Four

2010-03-08T17:32:00.001-07:00

Phew.

We are on our way to the Happiest Place on Earth today. We will be there for the next four days and then we will be on our way back to Australia. Did I tell you we are in the US?

Anyway, to celebrate our trip to Disneyland, I am posting a weeks worth of happy memories. Nothing quite so heavy as yesterday.

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Todays memory is a picture. Taken yesterday evening. LQ let the tears flow when it was time to say goodbye to her cousin. They have been as thick as thieves for the past week.

500 Days of Memories - Day Three

2010-03-07T08:02:00.002-07:00

The last day of school. Grandma was visiting and mum allowed us to stay home instead of joining in the last day of school festivities.

The morning didn't start off well.

My brother and I had been playing outside on the playground we had industriously made ourselves. It was wet from the night's rain and as my brother ran along one of the logs he slipped and fell, trying to cushion his fall with his arm that was weak from a previous break. His arm cleanly snapped in almost the same place as last time. Mum, not wishing to take all five children to the emergency room, called Dad home from work. Dad came and took my brother to the hospital.

I don't remember when, but at some point during the day, my brother came back home.

Grandma announced she was going to take a nap because she wasn't feeling well. The rain had stopped, so Mum suggested that she take us all outside to play. This may have been mostly for Grandma's benefit now that I think about it. At the last minute Grandma decided to take a bath first.

I ran back in to the house. I fish around in my memories to find the reason why, but there's never any reason why I was in the house alone.

My reason took me past the bathroom downstairs.

I stopped to listen after hearing an unusual sound coming from the other side. I was puzzled. The only reason I could conjure for the noise was a pig in the bathroom with Grandma.

I shook my head. My eight year old brain knew that just was not possible. But there was the noise again. It was the only explanation.

I began to run. "MUM! There's a pig in the bathroom with Grandma!!!!"

Another hole appears in my memory. Mum must have believed me and ran to the bathroom to investigate.

Grandma had locked the bathroom door. The noises continued and Mum frantically tried to beat down the door with her fist, yelling to her mother. As she tried to unlock the door with whatever tool she could find my Mum asked me to help my older brother climb up the outside bathroom wall to look through the window.

I ran out with my brother. We scrabbled at the wall but couldn't reach the window and called out to advise Mum of the situation.

We hurried back in. Mum had managed to unlock the bathroom door and we see Grandma laying unconscious in the bath tub. A quick phone call to the ambulance and Mum is back in the bathroom cradling my naked Grandmother.

Grandma regained consciousness for a few moments and was able to talk to my Mum. My own memory can not tell you what was said in that moment, but I know that Mum was able to tell us later that Grandma had finished her bath, become dizzy and disoriented and stepped back in the bath. Once back in the empty bath tub, Grandma slipped and knocked her head on the side.

I have always been ashamed of this next part of my memory.

As Mum cradled Grandma she asked my brother and I to stand out on the main road to flag down the ambulance. Our house was located on a service road running parallel with the main road. Although the service road was separate to the main road, it still owned the main road name. Thus confusing any visitor driving to our home for the first time.

This is why we needed to stand on the main road. We both said we didn't want to. I was too embarrassed to stand on the main road and wave frantically at an ambulance. While my Grandmother lay dying, I was Too Embarrassed.

Grandma was taken to the hospital after suffering a major heart attack. I only visited once but it seemed Grandma was no longer Grandma. Several days later her children decided to let her go. I have many good memories of Grandma that I am sure I will share over the course of my 500 days. This memory, however, had the biggest impact on my life.

My mother never let us lock a door in any home again.

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If anyone can tell me how to remove accidental postings from other peoples readers, would you please let me know??!!

500 Days of Memories - Day Two

2010-03-06T17:58:00.001-07:00

A snapshot memory made only last week.

My daughter sits alone on the raised king sized bed gazing lovingly at a preschool television show. She is flanked on both sides by the slight indents made by bodies that have known the comfort of routine for many years. Her unwillingness to acknowledge my presence indicates a confident comfort level that only comes with love. Isabel is surrounded by love shown perfectly by her immediate surrounds. The well used bed she sits on tells us in its own subtle way that her grandparents have love. Love for each other. Love for their children and overflowing love for their grandchildren.

Isabel finally leans over to the edge of the bed making her face align with mine. She puckers her lips and plants a kiss on my lips. I couldn't feel anymore content in that moment.

500 Days of Memories - Day One

2010-03-04T22:47:00.002-07:00

Five children huddle around the door to their playroom. Each with fingers stuffed in their ears. Watching in horror at the scene that is unfolding before their delicate eyes.

It is a perfect playroom. A playroom that the five children had only previously dreamed of. Its awesomeness only surpassed by the attic. And now the playroom has been taken over. Taken over by a man in a skirt.

The man in the skirt is the children's father and he is blowing so hard into the long black pipe that the second oldest child wonders if his eyes will blow out from his head from the pressure. His eyes are certainly looking dangerously bugged out. The familiar tunes blare out as the instrument is inflated, squeezed, inflated and squeezed. The second oldest child is certain the people stuck in traffic two blocks away are also being serenaded by her father and she wonders if they appreciate the sacrifice she and her siblings have made. She also thinks that her father could have chosen a less obtrusive instrument to play.

But the girl knows that then there wouldn't be that special daddy time spent sitting on his knee as he plays the long black stick by itself.

Over the course of many years (and many homes) the father plays his bagpipes less and less. Space doesn't allow for it and the children demand more time from their father. But every time the girl hears the sweet strains of the bagpipe it reminds her of those days when she would stuff her fingers in her ears and hope like heck that the practicing would stop before play time was over.

postscript: The father is now a self taught banjo player and on special kind of days the second oldest child is blessed with the sweet dulcet sounds of the banjo scales as she attempts to talk to her mother on the phone. She feels really lucky that she has a father who taught her the importance of practice.

Four

2010-03-04T21:48:00.002-07:00

Count them.... Four posts last month. You would be forgiven for assuming I don't care much for blogging anymore.

I thought I didn't. I thought I was done. It seemed to be consuming my life and there was not a healthy balance between computer time and other time.

But after pulling away from the blogging world for a while, I have decided that I CAN have balance. I just need to look at blogging objectively. I need to stop worrying whether people will be offended if I "return a comment" or not. And I decided that I needed a purpose to my blogging.

Have you heard of the film "500 Days of Summer"? I have only heard of it, not seen it, so I can't really comment on the film. But the title intrigued me. I wanted to do 500 Days of ----- something. So I have decided to commit to 500 Days of Memories.

I will attempt to post EVERY. SINGLE. DAY for 500 days. And each post will be one of my memories. Boring, I know. But not for me. And a perfect way of putting down a lot of what I didn't write in my journal when I was younger.

500 days, though. Am I crazy?

Only time will tell. See you tomorrow with my first memory.

The Naked Chef

2010-02-18T04:18:00.002-07:00

It sounded like lots of pots being thrown around and then silence.

Silence is never good.

I decided I had better investigate.

My naked chef had set up her mixing bowl, cracked a few eggs and started mixing her eggs. All by herself.

Then she thought it was a good idea to weigh her mixture.

By then I was just curious to see what would happen next so I let her keep going. Out came the chopping board, ham and a butter knife.

I guess she just really liked her ham and cheese omelet that we made for lunch.

My Valentines

2010-02-13T13:25:00.000-07:00

Shame on me.... I forgot

2010-02-07T05:21:00.002-07:00

I forgot to tell you that Tina from Little Tots/Big Ideas did an International Mommies post on little ol' me. Forgive me, because it was last Tuesday that this event happened. But you can still check it out now.

I have had a few things on my mind in the last week - shall I tell you all about it?

We have put our car in to the mechanic to have ONE particular problem (that the mechanic seemed to create in the first place) fixed THREE times and still the problem persists. So last week I had to organise for it to be "fixed" for a fourth time. GAH!!

Along with the problem car, I have had a problem wisdom tooth. We have health insurance to cover basic dental work, but no cover for tooth extraction. The good news is that we are so "poor" the government said they would pay for my wisdom tooth to be taken out. So if you read any loopy posts on this blog next Wednesday (WT-day) blame Dallas - it is obvious he didn't take the computer away from the drooling crazy lady in the corner fast enough.

After a morning of frenzied weeding and mowing on Thursday I bent down to fix LQ's shoes for the fiftieth time. As I finished up with the shoes I spied a rogue weed and twisted (yes, twisted) my body to rip out that little pesky weed. Unfortunately my back didn't like the twist and sent out a call for help by way of stabbing pains that dropped me like a bag of wet cement. I lay on the small rocks that cover most of our yard and garden (I am still trying to work out the logic of the rocks) and cried out in pain. LQ was no help (why do I keep her around?) and I slowly hobbled/retreated back up the stairs to lay on the bed and feel sorry for myself. Not before rearranging things in the yard so it didn't look so trashy and having a shower with LQ to make us less sweaty and more sweet smelling. My back has since been making me pay for the extra things I did before coddling it.

My mum has been in a different state for the past three weeks now and I'm not sure if you've noticed, but I am starting to suffer from the lack of mother contact. I can generally get on with my life once little things like the above mentioned have happened because I get to tell mum (and everything is better when you tell your mum). But this past week? I have been stewing on all the bad things. Come HOME MUM!!

A Bit of LQ Lovin'

2010-02-07T01:18:00.002-07:00

I absolutely adored seeing this when I went to check if nap time was being used wisely.

LQ had pigtails for church last week. This is noteworthy because she hardly lets us touch her hair, so to get TWO hair bands in was a triumph.

Prince William will be requesting friend status on Facebook shortly

2010-01-25T01:59:00.002-07:00

So many things happened last week to keep us from taking our small vacation to Melbourne to watch a few games at the Australian Open.

Dal and I were determined to go, however and we managed to pull everything together thanks to help from my sister and our friends/neighbours.

It turns out a few celebrities heard we would be there and showed up to say they had been in the same arena as the Petersens.

Roger Federer decided he would play tennis just for us.

Prince William of all people wanted a piece of the Petersen action and we had a few brushes with him. Once while we walked through the park to the Tennis.

And once while at the game.

Lacoste asked Dal to be their new model. pfft to Andy Roddick.

Dal kissed Roger Federer

Half naked older men threw themselves at me.

I caught myself in the bathroom after I had a nice spa bath while watching "The View".

While Dal lived and breathed Tennis

I have missed you

2010-01-23T04:59:00.002-07:00

and it's only been three days. I need to get a life.

Here's a sneak peek at my steamy two night get away with my lover.

That's right.... Dal watched tennis on television (when we weren't watching it live) and I took self photos.