I'm feeling so old ... my baby is going to high school next year!

Brad had his valedictory service last night so now it's official ... I no longer have any kids in primary school. Waaahhhh! I'm so not ready for this .. because we all know this is about me and how I'm feeling and nothing whatsoever to do with Brad and his feelings about moving on to the next stage of his academic and social lives.

It was a lovely service with lots of photos of the kids throughout the years of their time at the school. We've only been there for the last five years but quite a few of the kids had been there since kindy (eight years in total so far) and it was really good to see how they've all changed and matured over the years.

There was the traditional handing out of graduation certificates by the principal of the whole school as well as the Head of Primary but unfortunately, the lighting isn't the best inside the chapel and the angle was all wrong too, so my photo of Brad receiving his certificate didn't work out (tragedy for a scrapbooker like me!)

Then came the candle ceremony. Each graduating child is given a votive candle and candle holder with their name on it and Bradley didn't want to blow his candle out after the ceremony. He was going to keep it lit until there was no more candle left. I managed to persuade him that trying to eat the supper afterwards with a burning candle in one hand and his (flammable) graduation certificate in the other, would probably result in damage or injury, so he finally allowed me to blow it out. I then had the privilege of carrying it around for the rest of the evening, which was actually a good thing because it meant that it definitely came home to be put away safely with his brothers' ones.

So here you go: my last baby leaving primary school (note the still lit candle!)

Good luck for high school Bradley! Just try your best and we'll be happy!

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Dear Donna ...

Long time no see speak! In case you hadn't gathered, this is the Universe popping in for one of my little 'helpful hints' talks. Let's get started shall we?

1. First and foremost: when moving house, make sure you are wearing underwear that actually fits and is comfortable! Spending most of the day trying to find a quiet corner to discreetly deal with the mother of all wedgies is not conducive to actually getting anything done. Spending the rest of the day trying to prevent said underwear from falling out the bottom of your 3/4 pants is also not exactly productive. And for heaven's sake, don't wear a new bra. It will dig into places you didn't know you had and cause bruises you will take weeks to get over. Both undies and bra will make for some embarrassing moments with the removalists. Hopefully your face is back to it's normal shade of pink instead of the flaming red you wore for most of the day.
2. Asking the children to 'put things away' in their new rooms is bound to result in stuff being thrown through in the doorway and left wherever it lands. I realise this is not that different from how they used to put things away in the old house, but as you are still trying to move furniture and large, heavy boxes, it may be advisable to be a bit a lot more specific about where things should go. For example: "Put your clothes into the correct drawers of your chest of drawers and not on the floor" is going to save a least four ankle turns, two stubbed toes and one almost broken arm.
3. You can survive without a phone and internet and for longer than you think. However, your children will think their eyes have been gouged out with a rusty safety pin if they go more than 12 hours without access to facebook, runescape and a various assortment of mind-numbing flash games. All I can say to this is stock up on chocolate, Valium, earplugs and tranquiliser darts. Oh, and make sure you know which box the alcohol is in!
4. Next time, try moving a bit closer to Christmas. The children will find so many things they had 'lost' that it will save you money on Christmas presents as they will have heaps to entertain themselves with (and to fight over who it actually belonged to in the first place).
5. Even though your kitchen was the first thing to be moved, make sure to claim ignorance of where anything is placed in the new kitchen. This will ensure takeaway (and no dishes) for at least four nights after you move in. This will unfortunately leave a rather large dent in the food budget for the week but it is worth it to save your sanity. Oh, and find a rental with a dishwasher next time (not that there will be a next time but make sure the new house has one before you move in!)
6. Get used to the fact that you will be living in a house full of boxes of stuff you 'need' but don't have a space for ... yet. Just tell the children that the boxes are giant cardboard Lego pieces when they start to complain about the boxes blocking the view to the TV and suggest that they build themselves a nice jail cell soundproof room 'cubby house' instead of whingeing whining moaning politely voicing their discontent.

Now that we have some of those things settled, I would suggest that you keep this list handy for next year when you get to do it all again.

Your friend,

The Universe

The things you do when you should be packing ...

I wrote this the morning of the actual move. When asked to justify my actions, I explained that it was to be my last creative effort for quite some time and that the internet wasn't going to available for an eternity a couple of weeks so I had to get in while I could.

Anyway, here's my attempt at creativity from 6am yesterday with sleep in my eyes and a frantic husband yelling at trying to organise everyone else in the house ....

Dear friends, please note that our address

Has changed since last you were our guests

When you walked in through the door

And one hour’s stay turned into four.



We emptied the cupboards when the kids went to sleep

And soon found ourselves buried knee deep

In stuff we just had to have at the time

But now just makes us whinge and whine



Oh all the packing we have to do

And oh the dramas we’re going through

It will be worth it in a while

But for now, it’s hard to smile



To try to get the phone connected

Is like trying to get a fly elected

To the exalted office of Prime Minister

You’d think we were trying something sinister!



Our internet has gone away

And won’t be returning for many a day

About fourteen at latest estimate

So please don’t send us many messages



As yet we have no new home phone

But please don’t leave us all alone

We can still be reached on our mobile numbers

Just try not to disturb our much needed slumber!



We’re almost packed and on our way

To the beginning of a brand new way

Of life, of love and many guests

Please come visit us at our new address!

Nostalgic mood is now kicking in

We are starting to move house today and I am feeling ever-so-slightly unsettled. We have been in this house for ten years and I, for one, am going to miss it.

When I told Peter that I was feeling 'fragile', he replied "the day has arrived and it's time to evacuate." (sounds like an emergency drill not house move!) then said "we didn't conceive any children here but it has been a good house."

We may not have conceived any children here (thank goodness .. three is enough!) but the ones we had already have changed so much in the past ten years that it seems like an entire lifetime ago that I was stressing about the last move.

A few of the big events from the last ten years that jump to mind:

• My Dad passing away six months after we moved in. I'll always remember the conversations we had when we were painting the boys rooms and my grudging acceptance of his near-enough attitude to cutting in. He was right .. it doesn't really matter in the long run.
• The boys all starting 'big' school. They've all grown up way too quickly!
• Alex being diagnosed with autism. I can still remember coming home from a very unproductive meeting at his school and standing in the carport crying on Peter's shoulder about all my fears for him and his future.
• The births of Mark and Bec's children. So wonderful to see them become a family of four and then five and it really didn't hurt that they're all cute!
• The horrible phone call in the middle of the night to let me know that Pete's Dad had passed away. It felt like Pete was on the other side of the world even though he was only 700km away and all I wanted to do was to bring him home and make the pain go away.
• All of the other seemingly small moments that added up to a sometimes painful, yet still wonderful, ten years.

Apparently that's enough reminiscing for now as we have boxes to move and 'stuff' to sort. The slave driver awaits ...

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Out of the mouths of babes ...

Being the ever-so-slightly OCD type that I am, I decided to use a colour coding system on the proliferation of boxes that have taken up residence in every room of the house.

I thought that by giving each room/area a colour and labelling the boxes filled with stuff from that room/area with aforementioned colours, it would make it heaps easier to deal with the chaos that is moving house. Having so much more 'stuff' than the last time we moved house was frightening me just a wee bit because I could envision many complaints of "I can't find my ..." and "Why has he got my stuff?"

I even made a pretty little chart with the colours and areas clearly labelled so when the removalists got to the new house with the boxes, they would be able to easily find which room to put each box into ... see:

I was feeling quite proud of myself for being pro-active instead of reactive for a change until Andrew asked the blindingly obvious question:

"Mum? What happens if the removalists are colour blind?"

I think I'm just going to go and cry in the corner now. Please call me if you find removalists who aren't colour blind ....

Plague proportions ...

Every room I walk into lately has one of these in it:

Even the hallways have sprouted these unusual growths:



Some areas have been more badly infected than others:




And this room appears to be beyond all but the most professional help:



(Take note of the smaller wild versions making a break away from the main group)

Luckily help is arriving soon ... I hope!

Another step closer ...

The termite inspection guy has been and gone with the oh-so-wonderful news that the house is not infested with termites or any other nasty multi-legged creature (except for Brutus who took an instant dislike to him, as he does to every other male that comes within ten feet of the outside of the front door. Once said male is inside the front door, he couldn't care less .. great guard dog huh?) This means that we are now free to progress to settlement, which has been delayed two weeks due to the buyers changing their minds (and even though they changed them, they still don't work the way I want them to!!) about renting back to us for two weeks. I know they are perfectly within their rights to want vacant possession at settlement but why agree to let us rent and then change their minds? I'm a forward planner people .. I need to know what is going to happen so I can finish picturing the worst case scenario and implement the many and varied back-up plans in plenty of time! Don't mess with the system ... please? (warning .. breakdown imminent .. take evasive action .. warning .. meltdown in progress .....)

OK .. meltdown over for now. Clean-up crews have started fixing the damage ...

So from the very beginning, we/I have:

1. agreed to the sale of the house
2. agreed on a settlement date with us renting back for two weeks
3. granted access to the building inspector as requested by the buyers (and then wondered why they wasted their money seeing as he was here for a grand total of 17 minutes with literally 2 minutes spent in the roof)
4. found a rental and booked a date to move (after settlement, when Peter is home because I'm damned if I'm moving this all myself! What's that saying though ... damned if you do and damned if you don't!)
5. been told that we are no longer able to rent back resulting in me burning a whole tray of pizzas at work as I was contemplating aforementioned worst-case-scenario of being homeless with all this crap junk stuff
6. finally agreed on a (later) settlement date meaning I had to pull oodles of money out of my backside 'find' the bond money and payment for the removalists elsewhere
7. passed the termite inspection (feels like being back at school .. passing this test and that exam!)
8. packed enough boxes to deforest a quarter of the Amazonian rainforest (is it still called rainforest if it's been deforested? Always the deep questions here people!)
9. freaked out about how I still don't have enough boxes to pack the rest of the crap 'valuable and vital items of everyday life'
10. written long and rambling blog posts about how I've done so much whilst not actually achieving anything
11. snarled at children who dare to interrupt my whining at the world to ask permission to make chocolate crackles as a treat for me for afternoon tea
12. apologised to said children for snarling and grant them permission to make aforementioned chocolate crackles so long as they are delivered with a cup of tea
13. decided to wind up blog post as I'm starting to sound ever-so-slightly mad like a raving lunatic who needs to be packed into a padded box for transport to a secure facility.

Off to have chocolate crackles ...

Mmmmmmmmm ... chocolate crackles ... yum!

After the week I've had this is oh so apt ...

see more dog and puppy pictures

Boxes, boxes, everywhere ...

Woohoo!! The buyers have finally had their finance approved (after a week's extension) so it's official ... we've sold the house! I have also managed to find a rental house and been approved for that too. Now I'm just madly packing everything that stands still long enough, which may be Peter if today is anything like yesterday.

For those whose husbands/partners aren't into motor racing, lucky you! It's Bathurst weekend when the V8 Supercars go round and round and round 161 times. However, that's not the most mind numbing part. That would be reserved for the endless discussions about the merits of this tyre versus that one, who was 0.001 of a second in front of or behind who, how long it took to build this car, how much it cost to build that car and we can't forget the endless repeating of the positions/times/leaderboard throughout the whole thing.

It does have benefits though ... Peter will agree to almost anything to get me to move out of the way of the TV! And apparently it's very educational though I'm not sure I want Drew to know just what these are supposed to be educating him about ...

(Is it just me or do most of these girls look constipated or like they're having some kind of fit?)

I'm sitting here listening to the occasional outburst whenever someone overtakes someone else and the running commentary from Pete, explaining all the minuscule details to the only one of the boys who is vaguely interested (Drew). I think they're both just waiting for the inevitable bingles and crashes that are bound to occur in a race of this length. That's when it really starts to sound interesting.

Bradley came into the study about three minutes ago and I sent him off to say good morning to his father with the instruction to stay and watch the car racing with him. Brad's response was "If I have to watch the car racing, I may as well go back to bed." Good to see one of my children has some sense!

Seriously though, it's one weekend a year and Pete enjoys watching it. He works pretty damn hard the rest of the time so I don't begrudge him this. It's heaps better than listening to, or worse, actually watching test cricket so I'm immensely grateful that hasn't started yet!

Now I'm off to pack some more boxes and try to work out why I thought it was such a good idea to buy so much Tupperware ....

Some more show photos ...

Brad in his Viking helmet trying to avoid having a photo taken:

Ninja Brad:


Alex's remote control helicopter (purchased instead of a heap of show bags ..
his sugar rush could have been worse!!):



Amy in her funky new glasses and rasta hat (complete with dreadlocks):



Andrew going all rasta (and his shirt matches too!):

We survived the show. However, the post showbag sugar rush has only just started winding down ...

... and I am ready to kill the inventors of M&Ms ... specifically the person who decided bright blue food colouring was the ideal coating for a chocolate filled sugar coated sweet. Alex's teeth and lips are a beautiful shade of mottled blue. If we lived in a cooler climate I would be taking him to hospital on suspicion of hypothermia!

Then the fact that he is a teensy bit slightly OK, majorly 'sensitive' to blue and yellow food colouring, has meant an interesting couple of days. Yes I know I could have taken them away from him, but where's the blog post fun in that? (I tried to get a photo but retreated before he literally broke the camera. Teenage boys don't seem to like having their photo taken, as is evidenced by the number of photos of hands in front of faces that are now languishing in my archives.)

Overall though, we had a great day out and were home by 3pm. We arrived nice and early (9:20am) and managed to look at everything we wanted to see before the real crowds started arriving just before lunch. The first stop was the cake decorating (which all the kids had asked to see .. I know .. wonders will never cease!) We all had a laugh at the look on this groom's face:

and this couple:
Very well made, but my favourite was still the little mice peeking out from all sorts of places in this farmyard scene:

After the cakes, we checked out the sheepdog trials, log chopping, needlework/craft display (for Bec's gorgeous cross stitch sampler) and the dairy pavilion. Then it was on to the worst best part of the show ... sideshow alley. Thank goodness we were there early otherwise I would be writing this from the East Perth lock-up or Graylands Mental Hospital ... no sensory overload issues here!

Brad and Amy went on the bumper cars then had a go at an air powered cannon/gun thing where Brad won his new favourite stuffed toy, Whipper the dolphin. Then it was on to the laughing clowns where he won the only thing he wanted to buy ... a ninja sword. (It didn't stop him from buying another two anyway!) Amy had a go at climbing a horizontal, rotating ladder (and fell off) and Alex made his way around to the Scouting display and tried to go the whole distance around the rock climbing wall without touching the ground. He probably would have made it if there weren't so many little kids .. how rude!! :P

While Andrew ate lunch (no-one else was hungry ... weird!) we watched the dog judging then I sent the kids off to buy show bags while I wandered for a while on my own (bliss!). I checked out the photography and art exhibitions, the "only at the show" specials pavilion and the baby animal nursery before meeting up with the now-broke children. Much to my surprise, they said they'd had enough and were quite happy to go home with their diabetic-coma-in-a-bag spoils.

We caught the train home, where I retreated to the safety of my lounge chair with a magazine for some down time. When it got a little bit too quiet, I ventured down to the games room and found the spoils of the day spread from one end of the room to the other. Oh well, at least they had fun picking out the bags even if the contents only last a day or two.

Now I just have to get a job to pay for next year's expedition!

And it's not even halfway through the school holidays ...

see more dog and puppy pictures

...usually Yu-Gi-Oh

or Pokemon

or The Simpsons

or Runescape

or bodily functions ...

Today is the day ...

... we find out if all our hopes and dreams, well the ones about building the new house anyway, will come true. Nothing like a bit of pressure there Universe!

The people wanting to buy our house have until close-of-business today to let us know if their finance has been approved. I admit I have been and, truth be told still am, a little bit worried that it may all fall through.

It's the pessimist in me; the one I try not to let out into the bright light of day but that somehow still manages to escape the confines of my happy pills and rear it's very ugly head at the most inopportune times ... like now!


Today is also the last day I can use 'not going to the Royal Show' as a threat. It has come in handy these last few days and has even motivated Alex to listen to my request for him to mow the lawns. I've been asking him to do it for the last two weeks, so the fact that he is currently outside battling with the triffids masquerading as lawn, shows how seriously he takes the possibility of missing out on enough fairy floss to induce a diabetic coma. Ooh, that reminds me, I must find the tranquiliser darts and gun before tonight to make sure I pack them into my bag for tomorrow.

The other two slaves children are currently vacuuming and polishing anything and everything that stands still long enough ... including the poor dog! I don't think Mr Sheen furniture polish will do much for the shine on his coat but I suppose it's worth a try. (j/k ... he escaped long before that was even an option. You can put the phone down now .. no need to involve the RSPCA!)

I am wondering about what evil little impulse prompted the Universe to make me offer to take the children to the Show. Am I being punished for some past life transgression or was it the optimist in me taking over briefly with a reassurance that 'surely it won't be as bad as last time'? I mean yes, they are another year older and hopefully another year wiser (a girl has to have dreams!) but that also involves wanting more freedom to not look at the things I want to see. Luckily, at least two of the kids coming with me, and teenagers at that, want to see the cake decorating and baby animals so I will count myself amongst the fortunate!


Now I am off to:

.. do some more of the Mt Everest of washing that always seems to appear at school holiday time

.. go to the tile shop to work out exactly how many square metres of tiles we require to make the new house habitable before moving in. (Not doing the living on bare concrete floors thing again .. the hay fever was unbelievable last time!)

.. buy the necessary flavoured milks to enable 'free' entry into the show tomorrow (saving me a whole $36 so it's well worth it!)

.. pack a couple more boxes of stuff that we absolutely must keep but don't use.

.. bath the dog (or make an appointment at the doggy salon for him to have a bath and haircut .. option two sounds way more appealing!)

.. other stuff that I know I have to do but can't think of right now...

Enjoy your day and if you don't hear from me by the end of the week, my new address will be c/- Graylands Mental Hospital, Perth WA.

Notes from the Universe ...

What a difference a week makes!

This time last week, I was despairing of the eldest child's lack of concern about his English assignments.

I was ready to impose the worst restrictions ever ... no access to anything with a screen and was going to remove (and pack!) everything from his room except for his school uniforms and pj's.

I was wondering where I had gone so wrong that a child of mine would seem to despise the written word so completely.

I was envisioning a future with an increasingly belligerent teen being forced to repeat the same things that he hated this year, over and over again.

And then his medication kicked in, along with an attitude adjustment.

And we have completed all but one journal entry and both major assignments. (Yes, I did say 'we' because I sat with him as scribe during the brainstorming sessions to help him capture the thoughts before they ran away!)

And all is now right with the world English teacher.

Well done Alex. I'm proud of you!!

Deja vu .. all over again!

This week has been a repeat of 'being pecked to death by a chicken' and I'm really, really over it. I found out that Alex is going to fail English if he doesn't extract his head from his behind and do at least some of the work he's avoided up 'til now.

The deja vu part is that we went through the same thing last term, first term, last year and the year before. I know, I know, which part of autistic and ADD aren't I getting??

I'm just frustrated that the teacher, knowing his history with work avoidance and lying about it, didn't let me know that he hadn't handed anything in this term ... and when I say anything I mean not.a.single.thing!

I tried explaining the consequences of his actions (and lack thereof) in simple terms...

"If you don't pass English this term, you fail English completely. If you fail English this year, you can't go on to Year 11 ... at all!"

This was met with blank looks so I amped it up a bit.

"If you fail English, you will have to repeat Year 10."

More blank looks...

"At another school."

Slightly panicked looks...

"And you won't be able to the computing course you want to do at TAFE."

Awareness starts to dawn that this may be serious...

"So what are you you going to do about it?"

Back to the blank look...

It was at this point that something stopped me from committing actions I would no doubt regret once I was put in prison for them and poured a bucket of ultra-calm over my head. (It must have been his guardian angel! Thanks whoever you are!!) I was then able to calmly sit and discuss the various options available to him (all of which included him doing the work, much to his disgust!) and reach a suitable compromise (none of which included doing him bodily harm, luckily for him).

In all seriousness though, I am worried that we, as parents, and the system are both failing him. If he, someone with a 'label' and a rather vocal mother, is falling through the cracks, what chance do the quiet, struggling students with disinterested parents have?

I realise that some of his behaviours are typical of teenagers but I am concerned that I can't tell which ones are teenage rebellion and which ones need active specific intervention and help. It's very much a deal with them on a case-by-case basis and hope I'm not totally screwing him up in the process.

I also realise that the teachers have many students with differing needs and abilities and are probably overwhelmed with everything they have to do. Yet I am incredibly frustrated that some of the teachers he has had repeatedly for the last almost three years, still don't understand how difficult it is for him to do some of the things they are asking.

I'm not asking you to give him a free pass or straight A's (especially seeing as he hasn't done the work!) but when I ask for more information to help him with a task, please don't act as though I've asked you to donate a lung to a chimp with a 40-a-day smoking habit. All I need is clarification on a couple of points or a more specific set of questions for him to work with and I'll get out of your hair!

Another thing I discovered in amongst everything else, is that he hasn't been taking his ADD medication. We had discussed this earlier this year and he wanted to be responsible for administering it himself. I allowed him to do it under supervision for a couple of weeks then left him to it. Apparently he decided some months ago to only take it every now and then which, of course, doesn't do much to help him at all. One day back on his tablets and he's been able to write almost two pages for one of the assignments with no arguments, backchat or dramas. What a difference a day (and some severely restricted pharmaceuticals) makes!

Now we just have 5 journal entries (at least a page of handwriting each) and a major assignment to finish before next Friday. Wish me luck!!

My thoughts exactly!

see more Lolcats and funny pictures

Almost there ...

• ... with selling the house. We've accepted an offer on the house and are now just waiting to hear back about their finance. Please keep your fingers crossed just a little bit longer!
• ... with handing back the books for the canteen at the school that my kids don't go to. I've been thinking about 'chucking it in' for a while and have finally bitten the bullet and resigned as canteen treasurer. I don't have any vested interest in making it work and to be perfectly honest, I'm totally over all the 'office politics' involved.
• ... with starting to build the new house. We have the final draft of the floorplans and the costing. (Anyone have a spare kidney I can have? I've sold both of mine to pay for the house!!)

I can't believe how quickly this school term has gone by. It seems like only yesterday that I was wondering if I was still required at the canteen, seeing as it was a new term and I was technically only employed up to the end of last term. I have really enjoyed working there and will miss it next term when the new contractors finally take over. Mind you, that was supposed to happen at the end of term 2 and we're still there at the end of term 3!

Alex is now officially 15 years old! My first little baby now towers over me and he hasn't stopped growing yet. Despite the occasional hiccup, which we all have with our teenagers, overall he's growing up to be a lovely young man. He bought himself an iPod Touch with all his birthday money and unfortunately has dropped it already! It's not badly damaged but now can't be locked (what a shame .. nothing to keep Mum's prying eyes out!) so he rang the nearest Apple store to find out how to get it fixed. Upon being told that it wasn't covered under warranty, he politely asked if they knew of anywhere else that could fix it, took down the details and hung up. He then came into see me and question what was the point of a warranty if it didn't cover damage? He now understands the difference between warranties and insurance which is more than I can say for a lot of people out there (having worked in retail, I would estimate 90% of them didn't understand the difference!!)

Bradley is currently the walking wounded due to taking a spill off his bike yesterday afternoon after being out in the sun for most of the day at his school's junior sports carnival. He has a beautiful burn 'tan' line across his forehead where his fringe was sitting and the rest of his face looks like he just walked out of a sauna. Add that to the nasty grazes on his left hand and right elbow as well as the multi-coloured but mostly black bruises on his thigh where the handlebars hit him, he really looks like he's been in the wars. The saddest part of it all was that my second response after "Are you OK?" was "Don't bleed in the grout. It's too hard to get out!"

Anyway, had best be off to school to pick up 6 boys (Alex is having some friends over for a sleepover/birthday party). Anyone have some Valium I can borrow to get through the night?