Bringing a little bit of bogan to Kariong

We have been in our new house about six weeks now. I feel pretty settled here now and am enjoying not walking up nearly a hundred stairs to get from our car to the front door. I enjoy not having to take the "cold" items up first when I buy groceries, just in case I need a big rest break after making it up and can't be bothered going back for the rest. Anthony LOVES not having to carry two sleeping boys at once (Carter in his arms and Tony barely hanging on to his back) when we get home late at night so he doesn't have to make two trips. Let's just say we are in no way taking getting out of our parked car and walking ten meters to our front door for granted.

Another perk is we now have a yard. An actual front and back yard with grass. I know it sounds sad that it is a source of excitement for us, but previously our boys only had a veranda out the front, and a small paved strip out the back. The veranda didn't seem overly solid, and the paved area was overgrown because we were too scared to go out there and trim it back (actually Anthony was too scared - I was just too lazy). This meant we took a lot of trips to the park.

Well, aside from having actual grass we can call our own, we are virtually next door to a park. As in if you cross our neighbours driveway, you are at the park.

Our boys love the park and a few days after we moved in, Mr. Tarts and I were out the front. I was putting something in the shed and he was playing with a footy. I went inside to turn the oven off and came back to an empty yard. I called out to Carter and heard nothing. I went around the side gate to the back but found nothing. Then it clicked!

I walked down the driveway and out the front gate and headed for the park. When I arrived there I spotted Carter standing on the square-shaped bench with his arm outstretched. As I got closer I realized he was doing a rather loud performance of "Grease Lightning", complete with jacket being swung and thrown. Fortunately a stern chat has meant no more solo excursions to the park.

On Friday I took Carter to the park while the sun was shining. Once we got there I sat on the bench and realized I should have brought a book. I ended up laying down and enjoying the sun on my face. I'm not how sure how long I was out, but I ended up falling asleep - on the park bench.

The only reason I woke up was because I heard a splashing sound nearby. I squinted to look in the direction of the sound to find Carter next to the bench with his pants around his ankles doing a very public wee!

Kariong should be thrilled we have moved it - we are all class!

Our version of scripture reading

Last night, before the boys went to bed, we read them a Scripture story. We read about Nephi going to get the plates from King Laban. They have heard the story before, but we hadn't read it together for a while.

Anthony did the actual reading of the scriptures - complete with voices (his Lehi voice sounded like either an old woman or Dobby).

Its amazing to watch such young children so enthralled listening to a story in scripture-language that is sometimes difficult for adults to understand.

Tony loves a good story and was listening eagerly. When it came to the point where the four brothers drew lots to see who would go in to see King Laban, we showed the boys what it meant to draw lots. I got the short matchstick! Even though he knew we were just pretending, Tony's sweet nature didn't want me to lose and as soon as he saw the little matchstick in my hand he said;

"Here Mum, take mine - we can swap."

Nice to know if I ever have to confront a wicked King, Tony will step in for me.

We read about how Laman lost and had to go but was chased out. We read how they went back with all their gold and silver to trade with King Laban, but that he took all their riches and tried to have them all killed.

We read how they were told to go back a third time. With eyebrows raised we asked the boys;

"Oh no! They have to go back AGAIN! What do you think will happen this time?"

Carter jumped up from the couch and stood in front of Anthony with his hand raised for a 'hi-five' and said;

"They're going to kick butt!"

Not quite scripture language....but accurate all the same.

Our hero

Anthony and I had a little....incident...late last night. We went to bed later than usual (not a good idea considering it was the first day back at school today). I took my pain killer before bed but my normal dose didn't seem to do the trick so I decided to take another, but needed to put something in my stomach first as dinner was hours earlier.

I made myself a hot Milo and climbed into bed to drink it and watch a DVD. Before I could even take the first sip, I managed to tip nearly half of it all over our quilt and myself. After sending Anthony to get a tea towel and getting myself and our bed cleaned up, I finished my drink.

I HATE going to sleep without brushing my teeth. No matter how late, or how tired I am, I will always drag myself to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
So, before getting too sleepy I got up to brush my teeth. As I went to open our bedroom door, I turned the handled but couldn't open the door. I tried turning the other direction, but still nothing. In a slightly more panicked fashion, I turned left, right, then left again and tugged but the door wouldn't budge. Our bedroom door has no lock on it but it was somehow broken.

It was as if the handle was disconnected to the inside mechanism and my turning was doing nothing at all.

Being somewhat dramatic, I turned back to Anthony and informed him;

"WE'RE TRAPPED!! No joke, we are stuck in here and can't get out! I won't be able to brush my teeth!"

Anthony got up to inspect our predicament and asked if I had anything to try and pry it open.

I can be a bit of a slob sometimes and rather than putting things away properly I just shove them in the closest draw. Its a bit of an "out of sight, out if mind" mentality.
I dug around and found some of my old Driver's Licenses and a bobby pin.

In our best MacGyver effort, we poked and prodded at the door. To be honest I don't think either of us had any idea what we were doing. For all I know we could have been jamming it more.

We conceded defeat pretty quickly and resorted to yelling out to Tony to try and wake him to come let us out. We knocked on the door and called out but Tony is a very deep sleeper and wasn't going to be waking up any time soon.

We considered climbing out our window but that was pointless as we still had no way of getting in the house with everything locked up for the night.

As a last resort we thought we would try Carter. Carter wakes up earlier than all of us and I am always cautious of waking him before I need to because once he is up, he will stay awake. In desperation, we lay on the floor and called out the gap under the door to Carter.

There was no response and we almost had to resign to the fact we were well and truly trapped til one of the boys woke up in the morning.

Then...we heard a sound. It was Carter! Our yelling had caused him to stir. We called out again to him to come to our room and open the door. His half-asleep response was;

"Shhh, be quiet, I'm busy!!"

After having a giggle we called to him again and finally we heard the patter of little feet coming to the rescue. We watched the door handle turn and I was thrilled to see Carters sleepy little face. After a hero's welcome, we tucked him back into bed and taped the door jam so we couldn't get stuck again before we get a new door handle.

Give MacGyver a straw and a paperclip and he could have made a gun and shot his way out of handcuffs.

The two of us couldn't even get a door, without a lock, open!!

Mr. Sandman

I love sleep. Somedays I would be content to just stay in bed all day if I could. However, as much as I love sleep, it doesn't always come easy for me.

At the end of the day, my body longs to lie in bed and rest. I can feel it in every muscle of my body. But my back aches as I try and settle in and it makes it hard to doze off sometimes.

So I either stay up and watch tv or I lie in bed...and I think.

I know this is a pretty common thing to do - to lie in bed and think. I've noticed recently that the thoughts I have before I fall asleep are never trivial. They have nothing to do with what I watched on tv, what I ate for dinner, or whether the growing mountain of laundry will get folded come morning.

Instead, My thoughts tend to revolve around what's important to me. I think of my family - both near and far. I think about my boys and the things they did that made me laugh that day. I think of how I shouldn't have raised my voice so quickly when they weren't listening to me. I think about Anthony's snoring next to me and that no matter how loud it may get, I won't mind, because nothing compares to the peace of falling asleep next to the person you can't bear to be without.

Perhaps the thoughts I have before I drift off, are the most real thoughts I have of the day.

I know that when old age comes, and my days left on this earth are numbered, my thoughts won't be that I wished I had more money, or spent more time chasing a career. I won't wish I drove a nicer car or had a bigger house. There is no doubt in my mind that all I will be thinking about is my family and loved ones. The things that matter most.

I love sleep. But I love the clarity that comes whilst trying to get to dreamland even more.

Black, white, and a little bit of purple

I recorded "The Colour Purple" today. I remember watching it with my Mum years ago and even though I couldn't remember it, I knew I enjoyed it.

Tonight Tony sat with me on the couch as I watched it once again. He asked my why the people with white skin were being "bossy" to the people with brown skin.

I was tempted to brush it off with a line about it being a movie, but instead decided to tell him the truth. That a while ago, some people said that people with brown skin weren't the same as people with white skin and that they were treated badly.

The look on Tony's face could only be described as perplexed.  I could see that he honestly couldn't even fathom the colour of someone's skin being a reason to treat them any differently.

He thought about it and said;

"But that's stupid.  People with brown skin and people with white skin are all the same because they are all people."

Many things Tony says and does makes me proud as his mother, this one made me beam.