October 2009 Archives

Words of Finn #4

Finn: Hey look my penis is really long!!
Dad: Oh Finn, go wees!
Finn: But my penis just goes longer and shorter and longer and shorter!

Finn thinking hard

Finn: My penis is MAGIC!

Finn, 4 1/4 years, realising the joy of being a boy

No Crying

Dear Father of my Children

Today ended up somewhat less peacefully than usual, with spilt milk. There was no crying though. No siree. There were a fair few sotto voce expletives uttered by me and a wee bit of yelling from Holly, but no crying. Nuh uh. We're a crazy positive family like that.

Today is day 5 of the 9 days that you will be away. You've gone to Berlin for a workshop...if by workshop you mean a bike tour and some sampling of weiss beer, a bit of lounging around on a king-size bed and trying to sample all the delicacies at the buffet breakfast. The world's longest most exquisite degustation dinner? Oh and hanging out with some bigwig scientist from NZ. The thing the kids seem most certain about with all of this is that you will likely bring back a fridge magnet from Berlin. Which is most likely true.

So far solo-Momsville has been going fine. An increased lack of sleep compared to usual but that's OK. We've been keeping busy with playdates and excursions and the kids have been great really. It's possibly the fact that I told them you left because they were bad, but I like to think they're not that shallow. I choose to believe that they've discovered some deep abiding love for the good and pure side (the side filled with stickers and Freddos) and have adorned themselves with halos for this week. We've been out to breakfast with mates, been to birthday parties with cousins, and I've even been out to dinner with the girls, leaving the little angels with babysitters. It's been grand.

Which leads us to today. A developing cold sore leads me to believe the parenting gods are sick of Freddos and are looking for some mischief. Tas seems to be cutting his first two teeth, which just leads me to the same conclusion. The thoughts and lists of our upcoming trip to Katoomba have left me in a paralysing handbrake slide of procrastination vs action. I yearn for the parenting gods to either strike me down so at least I can get some sleep, or turn me into Spiderwoman so I can juggle everything a bit more successfully and perhaps get some hot Spiderman action at the same time.

So this evening: heating up Holly's milk as usual in the microwave she waited for the beep to open the door. Giving me all of 3 nanoseconds to remove the milk, she went to slam the door shut. The milk effected a parabolic arc wondrous enough to bring a tear to the eye of any high jumper and came to land mostly on Holly and all of the kitchen, with its final destination the recycling bin. Darling Holly yelled as one would when covered in hot milk. My inner half-assed cleaner yelled (but not too loud as I have a proper cleaner who'll come on Thursday). Finn discussed at great length what happened and who's fault it was. He was told to politely be quiet. I am suspicious that some of the milk has migrated to live happily and evolve creatively under the fridge. Perhaps you could do something about that when you get home.

But anyway, enough about me and ours. We're glad to hear you're having a fun time. It's been wonderful looking at the pictures of your adventures and we are really looking forward to seeing that fridge magnet.

lots of love from:
Finn for whom every situation is a thousand questions,
Holly wearing discreet Eau de Lait parfum,
Tas looking to gnaw on something,
and me.
I miss you.