47/52

a portrait of my children, once a week, every week in 2013 via Che and Fidel

He : has been really testing the love this week. Despite looking like butter won't melt in his mouth, I have been fantasising about boarding school. Hoping it is just term four-itis and he comes good soon.

She : was an absolute delight to take along to her first show, Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. We have been reading the story for months and she was beside herself with excitement and singing along with gusto.

46/52

a portrait of my children, once a week, every week in 2013 via Che and Fidel

He : spent ages making his own fun with a stick and streamers.

She : helped me clean out the sandpit and proceeded to whip up this Chocolate frangipani flower cake.

Rainbows and thunderstorms

Oh it is a good feeling to be able to walk. Roboboy brought home this timely artwork from school and it is reminding me to count my rainbows.  Last week I was finally up and about and on the receiving end of lots of friends popping over with cake and sharing cups of tea and school news out on the deck.

Meanwhile the thunderstorms have been plentiful too. Real ones, with thunder and lightning and pelting rainfall at school pick up that reminds me of my childhood. This particular afternoon the sky was the most eery green colour as the storm rolled in, I was sure there would be hail, but not at our place.

I am back into doing kindy drop offs again, always nice to see Liongirl's new artwork on the walls,

and even better to unpack the paint- a-plate masterpiece that finally came home in the kindy bag. Our family- that's me with the liberal application of blue lipstick.

Possibly inspired by the arrival of the blue tutu for the upcoming ballet concert. There was much twirling and taking of bows in this outfit the minute it came home.

 A brief foray to the oppies provided just what I needed. A pile of vintage crepe paper for a rainbow fish piñata. I even love the paper parrot label.

A quick dash to the new pop up shop for Everingham and Watson for a special present. So much colour to swoon over.

It seems the humble prawn maybe the next decorating icon.

 And then finally on the weekend, some serious unpacking of boxes in a desperate search for household order, personal sanity and the missing camera charger. While none of these were actually located, at least we found the stash of Peppa Pig toys. Priorities.

Lastly, I managed to eradicate two years of small child filth out of my Eames replica chairs. The specimen on the right is the reason why there is a market for replica chairs.  The specimen on the left is the result of some serious elbow grease and gumption paste.

It is strangely very satisfying to make your white plastic chairs look like they have never, ever had the misfortune of meeting a small child. And perhaps an indication that I am ready to go back to work.

After two weeks of doing not much and altogether too much web browsing, can I suggest you check out this very catchy song What does the fox say? (especially if you have a fox mad child like mine) and if you have small children at all, send them over to Triple Zero to play this free game and learn how to call emergency services. It gives me peace of mind to know that if Mama or Dada fell down and would not wake up that both my kids would know what to do.

45/52

a portrait of my children, once a week every week in 2013 via Che and Fidel

He : has worked out how to climb up doorways using just his arms. Infuriating for everyone else in the house who cannot do it, no matter how hard they try. 

She : Kanga - girl with her beautifully coloured mask from GOMA.

Resting up

This week for me has meant hours and hours and hours with my leg elevated up in bed. Lets just say it has been quite an adjustment for everyone. The kids have just brought all their meals, books and games  in to my bed to keep me company. They  also brought  a good share of dirty feet, crumbs and whinges  in here too.

The kitchen company finally reappeared ( six weeks after we moved home) with the range hood box cover to be installed. They seemed to have completely forgotten about the two missing drawers that have still not reappeared and left with vague mutterings of coming back with the rest next week. Now I have heard that before, say about six times, so we'll see.

Still, even a little progress is exciting when there is not much else going on. There is still shelving to be installed above the window and a final coat of paint but it is slowly getting there.

In the meantime I have been distracting myself from the state of the house with well placed floral arrangements from my mum. I call this one "Still life with gladioli and yellow painting trestle".

I made a start on some crochet  triangle bunting, which I plan to embellish with  some daisies from a  Mollie Makes pattern.

I finished the hand sewing for my foxy pillow and  am itching to be able to sit up at the sewing machine, but am trying very hard to be patient.

The kids have been busy too. An animal research station (heavily inspired by the Octopod) from the boy. Each animal has its own habitat and food supply. Always sensible when you have carnivores in the mix.

 A camera from my kindy girl ( she'll be wanting her own blog next).

And is that bunting I spy in a new drawing? I did have grand plans to sew some before a certain five year old birthday, in only a few weeks. This time of year everything seems to speed up, meanwhile I'm just here snailing my way along, writing long lists and trying not to get panicky.

Finally after eight days, I can actually walk without it being a major problem. This week I have realised how grateful I am for my legs. While they are not long or slender, and neither are my feet I might add, they generally do their job very well of getting me around and about, on my bike, or a scooter, up ladders painting and bouncing around on the trampoline with my kids. I had been a bit dismissive of these  good, sensible, reliable friends and I will never take them for granted again.

It's good to be home

We have been home for nearly six weeks now and in between all the drama we do feel like we are settling in. Most importantly, the milk glass has all been unpacked and one quiet morning  Liongirl appeared with this trio of floral displays she had  arranged by herself.

There is an abundance of gorgeous spring sunshine and the jacarandas are in full bloom.

Every window at the front of the house has a view like this.

The gnarled old frangipani tree is sprouting it's new green summer canopy.

The sewing room is a half unpacked messy disaster. But we did solve the problem of no table. I had a brainwave to salvage one of the old laundry doors ( from the infamous laundry in a cupboard in the lounge room) and whack it on top of some trestle legs we have had for years. Voila, a huge smooth expanse of table for cutting/stitching and garden window gazing.

While the vintage sheets are yet to be found and colour coded by Roboboy, I did manage to start a little something for my fox obsessed girl.

Who spends her days dressed like a walking rainbow.

There have been tulips from my mum (with leg healing powers).

Even the boy mess looks better on those shiny, shiny floors.

 And there is no better goodness than kindy creations made with love. Eastern long necked turtle of course.

It's good to be home.

After six months of renovating posts I am struggling a little to get back into my usual blogging groove. I had naively thought that blogging about the house renovation would be fun and exciting. While it was both of those things it was also stressful, dull and almost became a chore near the end.

In recent months I also made the discovery that my once small, somewhat private blog was now being read by my neighbours, extended family and the school principal. Yikes. Sharing with strangers in other parts of the world who have a common love for vintage pyrex/sheets/wallpaper/house renovations is quite different to people on the fringes of your real life suddenly seeing inside.

This space, which was always intended to be a creative outlet and place to connect with other like minded souls, suddenly felt intimidating. In real life I am shy, private and  frequently overwhelmed by the demands of mothering a complicated child.  In my blog I like  to be brave, colourful, positive and have gratitude for all the small moments in life that are joyful.

So, after contemplating ending this little space, I think instead there will just be a shift. Back to colour, craft, and sharing what makes me happy (for goodness sakes it's about time for some op shop finds). And mostly, remembering that this is my happy place, and that is all that matters.

44/52

a portrait of my children, once a week, every week in 2013 via Che and Fidel

They : went traipsing around the suburb with Legoman this time. A little gang of eleven mates all dressed up ready to scare and have their buckets filled with treats. I managed to snap these quickly from my bed before they headed off, good to see that even Red Riding Hood can be fearsome when required. 

Living the fantasy

Well girls, it appears I am living the fantasy. When Legoman dropped Liongirl off at kindy this morning, he re appeared with an envelope from one of the kindy mums, containing chocolate and this snipped out article from the weekend paper. Apparently scores of tired mothers the world over are fantasising about being just a bit sick, enough to require a short hospitalisation and recuperation in bed. If not that, well then a short stay in jail would be almost as good. Have a look here if you want to read this funny and very timely Frances Whiting article.

So please don't all hate me but it appears that I have made it. Overnight stay in hospital- check. Meals eaten and not prepared or cleaned up by me - total four. Enough drugs to make life all the more pleasant- check. Visits from people bringing flowers and gifts - two. Texts and calls from caring friends and family- numerous. Tasks I have performed in order to care for my family in the last two days - zero.

However, I must balance all the goodness out with a little bit of reality. My anaesthetist pointing out (just before the operation) that my plastic surgeon does in fact look like a butcher - mildly concerning. Suspicions that my bum may have been poking out the back of my hospital gown while they rolled me over to butcher operate on my leg - very concerning. Number of legs encased in very unattractive bandages and dvt preventing stockings- two. Number of feet with toes that look like fat german sausages- one. Number of steps able to be taken without tears in eyes- about seven ( thankfully the distance to the loo). Description of my scar and number of stitches involved from the surgeon - slightly worrying and probably good that I cannot see it yet ( it is currently sounding like my scar may resemble a large replica of the surgeons initials or a medium sized shark bite). Luckily I did not have midlife crisis aspirations to become a cancan dancer. Number of halloween fun nights enjoyed by my children that I could not participate in - one.

So now that I have discovered that I am living the fantasy, I feel it is my duty to all other mothers out there, to make make the most of it. There will be books read, crochet hooked, magazines perused, excess halloween treats consumed, and hopefully a whole back log of blog posts written. There will of course be enormous gratitude to kindy for taking miss Liongirl full time for a week or so, the girls at my work who are covering my missed days, my mum for taking time off work to help and to Legoman for stepping up to run the ship.

Amazing how many people it takes to cover just one mum when you think about it. Look after yourselves girls. Get that pap smear/ breast screen/skin check.

And then please share, have you had the hospital/jail fantasy?



I meant to start this post by saying thank you all for your words of support, stories of your own brushes with melanoma and other cancers, and general all round kindness on my last post. This bloggy community is just the best.