Thursday, 31 March 2016

Mr Busy - The Spoilt One

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I think it is actually official in our house:  Mr Busy is the spoilt, youngest child.  The girls have been talking about being the favourite and the perfect ones.  Mr Busy was always left out of that loop, but today I figured it out.  I succumbed to his innocent-eyed ways when I had to take him back to the orthodontist to get a wire put back on.   He is just spoilt, and I pretty much stopped caring too much about that around him being 13yo. Aside:  Seriously - an hour of driving for a 2 minute job.  Two minutes.  What are we doing??!

Anyway, after two minutes he was back out and we were loose in a shopping centre.  You all know I've said how much I hate shopping, and I do.  But that's where we were.  So I took the opportunity to organise Gold Class tickets for Dh and I to see My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 next week and then Mr Busy decided we should "get coffee".  What this really means is that he should get coffee.  And cake.  And be royally spoiled just because he happens to exist.  Because he's the only boy.  Because he's out with a parent without any siblings.

He is also the child in our home at whom I have thrown utter garbage and called it school lunch.  White fluff, masquerading as bread, with cheese and bacon on top?  Sure that's a perfect lunch for a growing boy.   Every day.  For four weeks.  Can't eat bread too easily?  Of course tinned spaghetti is the perfect, nutritious alternative.

Clearly this child has sucked me into some youngest child vortex in which even the person with the least amount of niceness in them is just undone.

Well Done, Mr Busy.  Don't expect it to happen again - I'm on to you.  Except the spaghetti because braces are a whole thing.

Wednesday, 30 March 2016

For the Love of Good Friends

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Ever since the beginning of the year I have been wrestling with how to find myself someone who would be willing to clean my house -- someone trustworthy and effective.  We're at the end of March and this has been something I haven't been able to get off my beam.  I haven't known where to look nor who to ask.

Yesterday I had lunch with a very precious friend.  We talked about a whole bunch of stuff -- faith challenges, kid challenges, life challenges.  In amongst our conversation I was talking about how tired I am in particular areas related to being a mother.  In amongst our conversation I mentioned that I need to outsource my cleaning.  A few minutes later we circled back to that idea and my very already-precious friend asked how I would feel if she did it?  How would I feel?  I nearly cried in relief.  I have had this friend on my mind for a long time for this task.  She is an awesome house cleaner!  Hers is spotless!  She needs a little extra income -- I have a job I'm willing to pay someone else to do.  She has the time -- I do not.

We decided the first week of term will be a good time to begin, and my balance beam just got a whole lot less tricky!


A whole school term seems to have whirled by in a flurry since I last posted.  Working full time is not conducive to blogging!  My new little class of 18 Year 3's and 4's is gorgeous.  Apart from two new-to-the-school students I have known the rest since they were in Prep, respectively.  They are delightful.  I've worked very hard this term without some of the practical support structures of my previous school.  Over the past two weeks I've worked to put those structures into place for myself, so I'm expecting the coming term to be less overwhelming.


Miss Mischief has begun her internship at church.  She is thriving and growing there, as I knew she would.  I somehow can't see a secular University for her.  Bible College seems a better fit.  One of her goals for the year was to determine what she should do next year.  She has deferred a degree in Criminology so will need to decide soon.  It's so hard when you really have no idea what you want to do with yourself.  Miss Sunshine always knew she wanted to be a teacher.  Me?  I figured I was good at typing fast so I went and did a secretarial course, a way back in the day.  I did not get out of bed with a zing in my step so I could go to work and type, I can tell you that!


Mr Busy's teeth finally caught up with him.  Or maybe my full-time income did.  Either way my poor baby has just joined the ranks of fellow teens with braces.  By the end of Day 1 I wanted to take him back to the orthodontist and insist on their removal.  The moment a 15yo boy realises he can't eat is heartbreaking.  Especially when it comes with tears in his eyes.  The following day I had him alternating between panadol and neurofen.  Being at the same school was never more precious than that day!  Two weeks later he is getting used to things crashing about in his mouth and is eating more like usual.  Minus pizza crusts, bread, chocolate and lollies.  And his toothbrush follows him everywhere.