Sean has been eating. So. Much.
He wolfs down whatever I wave at him. Rice. Pumpkin. Corn. Pear. Peas. Apples. He devours everything like a little vacuum cleaner.
He gobbles and chomps. Slurps and sucks. At everything! His fingers, his collar, his bib, his toys, MY fingers.

Sometimes I’ll be carrying him (like I am in the photos above) and he’ll launch towards me and start chomping at my nose.

Dinner time is always a pleasure. I like hanging around people who enjoy good food. Hehe. Then when he’s done, he sits back with this hilariously satisfied, drunken leer. Eeeehhhh.

Sean has been sleeping 12 hours through the night, with a 10 minute feed at 2am. And lots of 1 hour naps during the day. I’m very happy.

And he seems to have eczema. Which flares up whenever he’s stressed, crying, or too hot. Anyone with, or have kids with eczema? Is it as bad as the doctors/medical websites say it is?

Wayhey. Let me just say that there are a LOT of people out there with eczema! Thanks so much to everyone who responded to my questions from my previous post. You guys rock.

This evening I did something a little out of the ordinary (for me anyway). I met up with my online friend Shai - writer, artist, author, publisher and full time mother!
She and her family were in town for a short holiday. So I had to meet her! We dragged our kids and husbands to a pub for dinner and drinks. We had a great time chatting!

She was lovely. And the way she talked was identical to the way she wrote. Her online “voice”. I found that really fascinating. Mainly because I often wonder how I come across both online and offline.

I’ve been told I have a weird accent. Some strange mix of Australian + Asian + American. God knows where my American pronunciations come from. Watching Sesame Street as a kid?

Anyway, the pub was perfect. Quiet, cozy, warm and intimate.
The kids played happily. They had a ball. Dancing on the empty stage. Collecting beer coasters off the floor. Rearranging the bar stools. And I even caught Callum climbing up onto several empty tables to blow out the candles! So naughty!

I love buying regular lingerie and underwear, and I don’t mind paying a good price for items that look great, feel great and LAST.

But when I first realised that I had to buy a maternity bra, I was really put off by two things :
1) what they look like – as I mentioned here, who wants to look like a grandma?
2) the price – $80 for something that I’ll only wear for a few months?

So I went to Target and bought a whole lot of cheap maternity bras. I bought 6 pairs - 2 white, 1 cream, 3 black. In about 4 different styles - low cut front, casual-sporty, nice lace, extra strong support.

What they don’t tell you about the day-to-day usage of a maternity bra :

1) Leaking milk smells like regular off milk – PUTRID
2) Babies can drool and puke while breastfeeding, see #1
3) Babies can drool and puke on you at anytime! See #1
4) Breast pads (inserted into the bra to absorb leaky milk) can only hold so much leakage, again see #1

Basically, maternity bras get pretty gross, very quickly. One time I had to change bras 4 times in one day! Leaking milk leads to MUCH washing. MUCH washing leads to worn out elastic and fabric. I had to throw all my Target bras away in the end.

I also managed to buy two Elle Macpherson Maternity Bras – and TWO babies later – they still look amazing and they still have their stretch and support. I almost can’t believe it.

Also, I also had issues with breast pads. Breast pads can fall out of low cut styled maternity bras! And breast pads look really stupid when they aren’t pressed down firmly - imagine a woman with muffin patty pans scrunched into her bra.

Conclusion : Spend money on a good fitting, high quality, maternity bra!

   Argh. I’ve been SO BUSY.

   I’ve been in a cleaning frenzy this week. Not sure why. It hits me after the kids go to bed. Polishing the stove top till 9pm. Cleaning the oven till 10pm. Scrubbing nooks at the bottom of the shower door with a toothbrush til 11pm. My husband thinks I’m mad.

   Someone sent me a pic of a toy baby who looks like Sean. How. Very. Strange. (Hahaha. You gotta love the internet.)

   Anyway, it gave me an idea. I bought a toy baby for Callum. And he absolutely LOVES it. It’s so cute to see him copying all the things I do with Sean. I asked him to give his baby a name.
He called him “Jet”. As in, the rock band.

   I’m the new secretary for my local toy library! Anyone want info on joining a toy library in Perth, or starting one up… just pop me an email. I’ll send you a link.

   I finished a book. The Time Traveler’s Wife. Fairly entertaining. Very well written. Unique. But boring middle (unless you’re into love stories). I rate it 3½ out of 5 stars.

   My sister is back from Japan tomorrow! Yay!

Last year I successfully managed to grow a crop of rocket lettuce.
It wasn’t a big crop. It was garnish. Sandwich filling.
But I want a main salad this year.
I want to make rocket + pistachio pasta salad.

So during the summer I let my rocket grow wild. To let them flower and seed. It took ages. They turned out to be huge! 1.5 metres high.
I thought they’d be more, you know, lettucey. Bunchy.
But yeah, they turned out looking quite tall and weedy.

Which was rather unfortunate. Because if you want to survive in our garden, you probably don’t want to look like a weed.

Sure enough. My husband was cleaning out the yard.
He thought they were weeds. And all my precious seeds ended up in the weed pile against the fence. Oh well, such is life.

But 6 months later, the winter rain brought new life to our weed pile.

And amongst the nasty clovers, thistles and grass weeds…
there was a CARPET of lush rocket! I was thrilled!
They all looked so bouncey, fresh and WILD.

In my delighted morning blurriness, I stooped down in my pyjamas and began plucking the precious rocket. La la la. Then when my cradling arms were nearly full… I had to stop.

Is this stupid?? Am I picking weeds?!?
Am I about to serve my family balsamic vinegar and tossed WEEDS?

It seems kinda funny now, but I was really upset about it at the time. Appalled. Dismayed. And horrified. However, I wasn’t horrified enough to throw out the entire harvest there and then.

They sat in my crisper for a couple of days. Until I had the courage to eat a few leaves. And after an extensive Google search.

They tasted fine. Very much like rocket. But better! And now I’m wondering whether my family would notice a difference anyway…

I had an afternoon date with my husband the other day.
We both managed to steal a couple of hours from our work.

Tee hee. It was no big occasion. Or anniversary.
It was just some spontaneous couple time.
Sitting, chatting and chilling together.

We’ve been together close to 5 years? And he still makes me laugh and laugh. Ah I just love his company. I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. *Goofy grin*

My husband and I kinda have this household rule. That we try to buy toys for our kids that are fun, educational AND encourages their imagination. I guess we can afford to be a bit picky with the kind of toys they play with, since they are still young.

I think there are way too many toys out there that may look REALLY cool, but they don’t help kids to be creative.

You know. A wooden spoon can be a sword, a microphone, a guitar, a shovel, a snake, a giraffe, an oar, a flag, and even a spoon.
Tie a string on one end, then oh my god, you have a fishing line, a bird, an anchor, a petrol bowser, a crane, a washing line, a spinning thing, a hanging thing and a twirly thing.

Where as an electronic musical microphone with lights… is just an electronic musical microphone with lights.

Anyway. Yesterday, I borrowed this mega train set from the toy library. It must’ve cost hundreds of dollars. Eep, it was SO BIG. There were two remote controlled trains. A depot stations with sound effects. Mining mounting with dynamite blast thingy. Crane picking up thing with cute black boulders. Pipe factory with a rolling thing. It was awesome! The attention to detail was staggering. Toy designers must really have the coolest job.

Ok so it probably isn’t the most creatively versatile toy around. But it certainly has provided the boys (big and small) with HOURS of playtime and creative role-playing. But oh the noise. It’s driving me mad. Lets just say I’m glad I can give it back after two weeks.

   My sister is back from Japan. It was so good to see her.
But we’ve been in regular email / blog / msn contact for the whole 12 months she’s been away… I almost had nothing to talk to her about! She’s only staying for 2 weeks, so we’ve been hanging out together, going shopping, playing with the kids and eating our favourite foods.

She’s got this list of food she MUST eat while she’s back in Perth. Peiking duck. Australian beef. Lamb. Sausages. George’s kebabs. Pizza. Chillied mussels. Korean BBQ. KFC burgers. And this weekend is steamboat at my parent’s house. Mmmmm.

   I finished another book! Past Mortem. It’s the first Ben Elton book I’ve read… and it took me by complete by surprise. I absolutely loved it. Very entertaining. And wickedly funny. Totally recommend it. I rate it 4 out of 5 stars.

   So 31st August is supposedly International BlogDay 2005. 3108 looks like the word Blog. I think it’s cute. Anyway WA bloggers are having a Blog Awards Night. Go nominate your favourite blogs!

I gotta slow down.

My life is insanely crazy with activity. Everyday is a huge adventure. People. Parties. Dinners. Lunches. Gatherings. Shopping. Visiting. Organising. Cooking. Running the house.

I just want a day where I do NOTHING.

I want to put my feet up. I want to remember how to be still.
To contemplate and have meaningful thoughts.
To remember that life is good. That things could be worse.

And that my little problems aren’t so bad in the bigger scale of things.

I’ve always been a bit dubious about the term “Asian Fusion”.
I think it’s just a bad excuse to serve mash potato with bok choy.
Or sausages with oyster sauce. Very weird.

Anyway I went out to dinner with my sister and some of our common friends. There were 12 of us and we took up half the restaurant. Which meant we were probably responsible for half the noise.

Conversations during the evening : Italian lovers, bad places for your car to break down, overpriced restaurant food, 24 hour rendering times for 3D modelling, Princess Mary, and sexually alluring salesmen.

“The daffodil was chosen as the symbol of hope for all touched by cancer because of its reputation as a hardy annual flower, pushing its way through the frozen earth after a long winter to herald the return of Spring, new life, vitality and growth.” (Daffodilday.com.au)

Usually, I’m not one who gets overly weepy by symbols and metaphors. (Ok, maybe they tug at my heart a little). But daffodils don’t particularly have a special place in my heart, just because my husband survived cancer.

I think daffodils are absolutely beautiful. And that money for cancer research and support is a worthy cause.

In fact, flowering bulbs in general are simply amazing. To think that something so dirty and ugly and looks like a demented onion could possibly erupt into a stunning flower.

And that all the information for bright yellow petals, green stalks and a funny trumpet shape is stored somewhere inside this lump.

I guess in a way, I feel that the bulbs are more beautiful than the flower itself. And possibly a more beautiful symbol of hope.

…

Eh, did I just get all weepy?

Humpty Dumpty sat on wall!
Humpty Dumpty fall down
down
down weeeee CRASH! BANG!
BAAAM! AAARRRGGH!
BOOOOOOOM!

It’s strange to think that the city was once my playground.
Smells of strangers. Coffee. Darkness. Music. Money.
Walking past places reeking with intimacy now grown cold.

The bench. Sitting, truanting, smoking stolen cigarettes.
The tree. Kneeling, gasping, puking hours of ingested alcohol.
The cafe. Standing, stressed, queuing for my coffee before work.
The ring shop. Leaning, lonely, wondering if I’d ever get married.

The city. Her streets. Her buildings. Her facades. Her dark alleys of colourless secrets. For years, she mocked my unhappiness. My doubt. My confusion. Obscuring me from myself. For years, she made me believe that running away was the only way.

But now I stand. I walk hand in hand. My fingers curled inside his. My lips brushing his shoulder. My hot cheeks spirited in the winter’s air. I feel strong. Firm and sure. Beyond the dizzying heights of happiness.

Life is here. The past is gone. Life is now.

“Look mummy! I’m a Tai Kwon Do MASTER!!!”

“Hmmm? A what…? HEY! Take dad’s underwear off your head now!!”

   Sean is 5½ months. And aaakkk he’s already on the move! He gets up on his hands and knees, rocks back and forth and then does a funny little froggie jump. It’s so damn cute.

   Inspired by the very funny and ever so popular Mr Brown (and his daughter), I picked up the book “The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time” and couldn’t put it down! Great reading. Very entertaining. And filled with that quirky beauty that I love so much. I rate it 4 out of 5 stars.

   Went to the beach on the weekend. It was my idea… and hehe it was such a BAD one. It was SO COLD. And it rained and rained. We took a quick stroll, ended up soaked, and sat shivering in the car, munching on chips, and drying ourselves off with the heater.

   I’m addicted to the cricket. And the footy.

A few weeks ago, my sister came over to visit me and the kids. It was a cold, wet afternoon, and we were stuck indoors.

I decided to give her a taste of life as a stay at home mum. We played play-doh with the kids, ate lunch, read books, did puzzles, tumbled around and I even bathed Sean in the living room. It was domesticity at its finest.