One cupboard at a time

I don't want to alarm anyone, but something is going on with me. It is as much a mystery to me as anyone. People who know me well may need to grab a calming herbal tea before reading on.

This week, the strangest things have been happening. To me!
I'm not quite sure how to describe the feeling, except to say that it is totally foreign.

I am not a fan of cleaning ... by any stretch of the imagination. I do it because, it has to be done. I see no joy in it, except when I turn around to see a clean surface, that signifies that I can walk away and do something else, hopefully, something I enjoy.

So this week I got the urge to clean out the Medicine Cupboard. Mostly, this came from my frustration at things falling out as soon as I open the door, and the pain of rifling through things to find the packet I am after. So, I rolled up my sleeves and did it. Quite a stellar job too, might I add.

With this job behind me, I gave myself a pat on the back for achieving something close to Spring Cleaning in Spring.

But, it hasn't stopped there. The feeling has returned ... several times, in fact.

I have completely gone through the entire contents of our filing cabinet and desk, and de-cluttered, disposed, and reorganised. I have also gone through my collection of magazines, chosen which Scrapbooking and Health ones I wish to keep, and put aside a healthy pile that are moving on. Furthermore, I went through my collection of shoes and tossed the tatty ones. A good part of our wheelie bin has been filled, and for a semi-hoarder, this has been quire invigorating.

To top things off, Hubby walked out yesterday morning to find me ironing. This is an extremely rare sight in my household.

So I am not sure if this strange illness will continue, or whether it is seasonal and replacing my Hay fever? I have checked my temperature and there doesn't appear to be a rash either. While I am not concerned that it is a long-term illness, the satisfying feeling I have been getting is a little unsettling.

I will update if any more symptoms occur.






Joining in    

Laughter is the best medicine

The Universe must have been working in our favour, because we scored free tickets to an event this weekend.  This event was certainly something that we were looking forward to because it would provide something that we really needed right now. It even appeared on my 2012 To Do list as No. 34 - Laugh more.

There are many reasons and forces working against us at the moment causing both hubby and I to be a little uptight and anxious. I speak mostly for myself when I say that there have been many days lately where I have just been going through the motions, aiming to make it to the end of the day.

So when I scored free tickets to attend the Hobart Comedy Festival Finale on Saturday night, the mood instantly lifted in anticipation.

I LOVE a good laugh. If you know me at all, you may have witnessed my laugh that is often described as loud and hearty. I make no apologies for my laugh. It is all me and not at all fake, and when it is heard with gusto you know that I am highly amused and having a good time. A good belly laugh should be experiences often, in my opinion.

This was the 10th Anniversary of the Comedy Festival, and the Finale has proudly been sponsored for all of those 10 years by one of my favourite Australian companies; Blundstone.  Providing Australians with tough and durable footwear and some laughs - clever buggers.

The line up was great with Dave Hughes, Fiona O’Loughlin and Charlie Pickering doing what they do best. There was also some impressive local-grown talent, to show that Tasmanians are a funny bunch.




Nothings was off limits and the laughs came hard and fast. Most certainly the best couple of hours I have had in a while.

What gives you a good laugh?

Word for word, they are listening

When the adults are gathered around, talking about their day, going through various topics and voicing their opinions, where are the children? Oh, it's OK - they are busy watching their favourite television program, they are not taking any of the chatter in.

I have witnessed first hand that this is not always the case.

Children may be fully focused on the television screen, they may be laughing along to the antics on their favourite show, they may even not respond when you say their name several times. They are, on the other hand, still taking in parts of the conversation in the background, ears pricked and brain sucking like a sponge. Admittedly, they keep one ear cocked purely so they don't miss out on any opportunities, but it is amazing the things they remember about who said what and the exact context with which it was used.

I have various examples.

Hubby and his mates often gather in the shed, also know here as "the man cave". They sit and reminisce, telling jokes and ribbing each other. Occasionally, they may be doing something constructive as well.
They were doing this one particular day when hubby called his mate some descriptive words that he reserves for adult conversation only. But this was OK, because the children were not in the shed. They were playing in the adjacent yard. He could hear them jumping on the trampoline, laughing and chatting.
A while later the children came out of the yard, just as hubby's mate exited the shed. My son and hubby's mate got in each others way. My son, only 3 at the time was quick to say "Out of the way", but then added the descriptive words, just as hubby had phrased them awhile back in the shed.
It was unmistakable that he had heard hubby's words exactly, and had now used them in the same context. It's funny how kids learn words and where they should be used so quickly. Hubby and his mates now speak in hushed tones in "the man cave".

Another example involves my father-in-laws love of boating.
He has two boats, but loves his Huon Pine Motor/ Sail boat. He speaks with passion about his boat, mostly to the grandchildren, as they are a much more accepting and engrossed audience, as he tells stories of his hopes and dreams for himself on boating adventures.
On our way past a bridge recently, our son must have been thinking about "Pop's boat". Hubby and I were discussing our agenda for the day when, quite out of the blue, Master 4 piped up with "Pop's boat is just right you know? Not too big, not too small. Just right." Hubby and I looked at each other with a grin. It was as if my father-in-law was in the car with us. The description were his words. My son had obviously heard him say this many times in one of his raves to his friends.

Children are learning all of the time, and a great way for them to learn is through listening to others and hearing how words are put together. Unfortunately, they may hear conversation that is not meant for them. This can and should be avoided where possible. Other times, they pick up some great use of language in words and tones.

They key is to remember, that children are always listening. 

Have you found your kids have been listening when you thought they weren't? Or do they say things word for word that they have picked up from others?

Controlling the beast is hard Mum

My theory is that boys and conventional toilets just don't mix. There, I said it. It's out there. Who is going to back me up on this one?

My problem lies with the one boy in the household. I have heard similar stories from other Mums of boys, but I must admit that at the time I thought "how hard can it be?" Point and shoot, right?

I really don't think it is a matter of aim though, as I have seen offenders aim at other things with perfect precision and most boys will try writing their name while urinating at least once in their lives.
There is clearly a reason why public toilets are equipped with urinals for males or the simple 'wee here wall'.

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So what is the problem? Possibly boredom and easily distracted? If you have any thoughts or advice I am happy to listen.

After several discussions with Master 4 about where the wee is meant to go, and the consequences of the wee going outside of the intended perimeter, I threw up my hands in despair and total frustration. I am so over sitting on a toilet seat with a dribble of urine on it, and little puddles beside the toilet on the floor. The sweet smell of wee is not my favourite fragrance.

There are many things I would personally like to control. Hubby would say this is just me being a control freak, but what is wrong with wanting things to follow the correct course and end with the right outcome?

At the beginning of the year when I wrote 2012 - Year of control, I had no idea I would then resort to writing about toilet habits and etiquette. Yet, here I am.

I have resorted to following Master 4 to the toilet. I stand within glare and warning reach while he does his deed. I have stopped just short of actually taking control of the offending body part myself. Although, I haven't totally dismissed at as the last option.

So, in my capacity of The Wee Police, I was one duty only yesterday, listening carefully for the correct sound of urine on porcelain. The second the sound changed tone, I belted out the order "In the toilet!" It's a wonder Master 4 doesn't startle at this point and spray me with it.

Master 4 re-aimed and finished his business. As he walked past me he shrugged his shoulders and said "Sorry Mum, I just lost control for a moment." Just like that I was left standing outside the toilet on my own, contemplating the news I had just been given.

The frustration gave way to humour as I pondered the enormous responsibility of controlling such  wayward beast. I fought the urge to yell after him with "Both hands on the bat son".

God help us all when the hormones kick in.

A few funnies

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