And then there were 6!

A few months ago, we got two rabbits. Apparently female, though it seems they were too young to be sexed accurately. They have already had a few more adventures than most of their hopping kind, after getting out and making their way up the road to the village where one of them was house-trained and lived the life of a king, while the other had a near-death-experience while being bailed up under a BBQ by a snarling dog. Both survived and were returned a few days later after we managed to track down their whereabouts.

Yesterday, I was doing my usual afternoon animal feed, and lifted the lid of the rabbit hutch to replace the hay in their sleeping quarters. I recoiled when I saw a huge pile of fur bundled in the corner. I moved it aside, and recoiled again when I saw 4 squirming little bundles of pink and black writing about in the fur. Brand new baby rabbits really aren't cute!



Sophie was THRILLED to see that two are pink, and remains resolute in her convictions that they will stay that way, despite obviously being bald at this stage.

I keep half expecting them to succumb to something dreadful, but so far they seem strong and healthy. I haven't picked them up, as everything I've read says that you shouldn't, but I'm dying to have a closer look - they really are HIDEOUS looking things! Must set appropriate example to the kids though, or they'll be all over them and then they will certainly die :(

And for the sake of sharing more photos, I found these on the camera too:
A butterfly Soph drew a few weeks ago...


I took this pic the other night while the kids were playing (I mean LEARNING ;) ) on starfall.com It's a great wee phonics site that keeps my kids happy for hours and is actually a reasonable quality literacy resource. I even allow it in my classroom! Great for developing pre-reading skills (eg letter and blend sound knowledge) as well as extending children already reading. Of course if I had a PC, I'd be wary of letting my kids loose on it, for fear that it would crash itself into a crashing thing, but as I have a Mac, I know it is child-friendly and almost totally crash-proof. But lets not get into that old argument...



Not much else happening here. Busy doing assessment stuff for school and gardening - of which I really will post a picture soon - it's looking good!

Camping!

With a late spring holiday weekend approaching, we decided to flee the demands of a bleating pet lamb and an unfinished vege garden (oh the STRESS of this country-living thing!) and rough it for a few days.

Generally, we take the rotisserie camping, and have a flat, mowed and very tidy powered site situated in an endless line-up of identical 3-roomed tents owned by the rest of the fair folk we share our city with and cursed while overtaking on the 6 hour journey to our destination. There are hot showers and even kitchens for the poor souls who didn't bring their own.

This time though, we were REALLY camping. There were kitchens and hot showers, but the water had to be boiled before drinking, and the sites had trees and pinecones. And lots of noisy birds at dawn. And though we bought the 2 burner gas stove, we left the rotisserie at home.

I was feeling all rustic and earthy about the whole thing, until the incredulous reaction to our spacious tent by our Irish friends (who were bunking up under a handkerchief next door) made me wonder if Kiwis over-do this camping thing a tad. Personally, however, not having a freshly brewed coffee in the morning smacks of a slum, not a holiday!

All silliness aside, we had a great time. The kids waded about in the estuary, poking at all manner of sea life with sticks and learning a huge amount about our rocky shore creatures in the process. There was a fabulous playground, a bike track, and even a wee surf break - funny that! All of this was within a stone's throw from our tent.

Caleb did his best to escape to the beach whenever the opportunity arose, but aside from a brief 2am tantrum (such timing, that child) he was far too busy having fun to get into too much mischief. Sophie was a darling, and also had a blast, though by the haste at which she tore inside and festooned herself in 2 tutus, a pair of fairy wings, a pink fascinator and some plastic high heels when we got home, the endless gumboot-wearing and adventuring had taken its toll and she was in dire need of some glam.

Next time we'll pack a tiara with the rotisserie.

Food wars

I read this news article today, and was surprised at how few children are actually fed responsibly in our country.

Here's a snippet for those of you (like me) who hate opening links unless you know for certain that it won't bore you to tears:

"Kiwi kids are not eating their greens, with high prices adding to the challenge for parents.

A survey of 2500 children and young people found fewer than a third were eating the recommended daily fruit and vegetable intake of five servings per day.

The National Survey of Children and Young People's Physical Activity and Dietary Behaviours found most children were eating enough fruit but their vege intake was poor, with fewer than 40 per cent eating three or more servings per day."

This comes hot on the heels of a TV show I watched the other night, where TV chef Jamie Oliver was trying to teach the US's unhealthiest city (town?), Huntington, how to cook and eat healthy meals. I watched astounded as we were introduced to families that used their deep fryer more often than their stove top (as in EVERY. SINGLE. MEAL) and had entire freezers filled with frozen pizza and processed TV meals. Entire kitchens that were devoid of a single fruit or vegetable. These people genuinely loved their kids, no-one would argue that, but they were essentially carving years off their lives and handing them poor health by the rubbish they were fueling them with.

I was possibly even more amazed at the horrendous lunches that the school children were fed as a part of their provided cafeteria lunch. Think fry. And more fry. But they had milk - the choice of several, sugar-laden flavours! As a parent, I couldn't bear it - my kids would be having home-packed lunches no matter how uncool it made them. A dorky lunchbox has to be cooler than obesity and diabetes, afterall!

I was feeling quite smug and superior for a moment or two, thinking about my children's carefully planned meals and nutritious snacks.

Then the above article began my descent back into reality. I remembered the dozens of children I have taught in low socio-economic areas that wouldn't have any lunch. Or breakfast. Or would have a packet of biscuits to last them 2 days. Or dried 2-Minute Noodles every single day that they'd eat raw, pouring the MSG-riddled flavour sachet directly down their throats. I didn't have kids at the time, so I'd just shake my head at these situations, and make them the odd Marmite sandwich when I could.

Now that I'm a parent, and packing lunches myself, I agonise over the contents, because I just can't feed them rubbish. Their behaviour worsens and in Caleb's case he has genuine allergic reactions to most processed foods. In fact it was the label-reading that I had to do when starting on his gluten and dairy-free journey that alerted me to how little nutrition there is in most prepackaged food and started my crusade as a certifiable food nazi.

Recent meal times though, have made this determination a tad difficult. Sophie is very particular about many things in life (some would say neurotic, but lets not be unkind) and food is becoming one of these things. All of the decent parenting books say not to enter into food battles, and I try not to, but it's so hard sometimes! Here are the emphatic particulars:
* Foods must not be touching on her plate. Makes the stirfries, salads and pasta dishes we enjoy difficult.
* All vegetables except carrots (must be in sticks) corn (off the cob) and broccoli (florets only, no stalks AT ALL) are firmly rejected until the threat of the dreaded egg timer. At this point, hysteria ensues, all food is shoved into mouth at once, resulting in tears, drama and / or vomiting.
* Cutlery is very important. No matter what the meal, a knife, fork and spoon must be present. And of a different set to the one at her place-setting. Much time must be spent trading and rectifying the situation, even if Certain Little Person set the table herself and chose offending cutlery.

I try and stick to small portions (a recent and astoundingly simple breakthrough) as it usually keeps things achievable and limits food waste, and all that is required is 2 decent mouthfuls of each thing on her plate. The alternative is bed, with no bath or story.

Lately, Soph has gladly taken the 'bed with no story' option over eating her meal, which frankly, is a heck of a lot nicer than what I imagine most other 3 year olds have slapped on their place in the evening. This immediately flicks my 'Ranting Mother' switch, and I seamlessly launch into a lecture about how many hours I spend in the kitchen per day, how nice her meal actually is, how many million children in less-fortunate corners of the world would gladly devour her cannelloni, how ungrateful she is, and other such useless nonsense that serves no purpose whatsoever, except to cement her resolve to let not single nibble pass her lips. She then slinks off to her room, puts on her PJs, and happily goes to sleep.

Her brother is a veritable garbage disposal, albeit an expensive one with his dietary restraints. He can comfortably devour an adult serving of rice porridge for breakfast, followed by several pieces of toast and a banana. Often an egg or two is thrown in the mix for good measure. He continues to wolf down anything that he is presented with for the rest of the day, except tomato, though he tries valiantly because it is food after all, so it has to be good, right?

Sophie may (or may not) eat 1 piece of toast for breakfast. An hour later she is demanding morning tea. As I am a stubborn mother, grazing is not allowed in my kitchen. We have set mealtimes and snack times, and if one meal is spurned, you will get nothing (except a well-rehearsed lecture) until the next. Sophie whinges her way to morning tea, eats her snack (usually a home-baked muffin, crackers and some fruit) and then claims malnourishment until lunchtime where she may, or may not, eat a ham and salad sandwich or wrap, or leftovers from the previous evening's meal. Afternoon tea is a repeat of morning tea, then dinner, which as I have mentioned previously, is usually spurned.

I don't like hiding veges in meals. It seems sneaky, and Sophie finds them anyway, lining up the grated imposters like unwelcome villains on the side of her plate. I'm sick of eating boring veges at every meal though. I like asparagus! And I'm sick mealtimes being ruined by nagging (me) and whining (Sophie) over food she doesn't like.

So I'm faced with a crossroads. Options are:
* Give up and feed her what she wants. IE; Marmite sandwiches, tomato sauce and McDonalds. Or plain pasta.
* Cook two different meals - one for the kids and one for the adults, who appreciate the fine fare I present and respect the time I spend preparing it (**yada-yada, etc, etc, see above lecture**)
* Shrug my shoulders, serve up the meal, send her to bed if she doesn't eat it, and trust that when she's hungry, she will eat. And if I only give her nutritious stuff, she will eat well.

Think I like the latter option. But geez, it's hard work! Planning nutritious meals isn't easy. It does require thinking about meals before you start making them, which can be hard after a day at work, with kids hanging about your skirts and requiring attention. Believe me, I knooooooooow! It requires planning at the supermarket, because the stuff you buy doesn't naturally, miraculously evolve into tasty, healthy nourishment for your family. It requires time to cook, because tasty food isn't usually fast (**dodges bullets from vegan vegetarian types who strongly disagree with this statement**). It does NOT have to cost a lot though. Sure the GST rise has impacted our grocery bill, but how about buying frozen veges, if the fresh ones are too pricey? How about exchanging the 2L of Coke for a packet of lentils that you can cook with your spag bol, reduce the meat cost and add a decent nutritional boost while you're at it? I could go on forever, because this is a hobby horse of mine.

Kids need to eat well. They deserve it and our health system can't afford to take the strain of the consequences if they don't. It is our job. Learn to cook. Teach your kids. Insist on health (with the odd treat because life's about living, right?) Even if our kids resist, they can't keep up the fight forever, surely **pleading look to the heavens**

Claymation

Two posts in one day! Almost makes up for my lacklustre attempts at blogging everyday so far this Blogtober.

I teach a class of 26 Year 3-5's in a small, but very special rural school. The children in my class range from 7-10 years of age, and obviously there is a considerable range of academic ability within the class. One thing they all have in spades though, is creativity and cuteness. They just love to learn, teach others, and do the right thing. Long may that last!

Our school (incidentally the same one I attended as a primary schooler - I haven't moved far!) has a strong culture that is centred on our school values and mascot, Piko the Pukeko. We have a school song about Piko and embrace conservation and the environment. We have a vege garden, worm farm, and compost the food waste that can't be fed to the worms. There is also a 'litter-free lunch' policy, and while this is in no way enforced, the children take it very seriously, and as an incidental result eat very healthily at school, as well as limiting landfill.

So earlier this year, as a part of our school-wide 'Communication' theme, I taught a unit on animation. We studied the progress of animation over time, the different forms we see today and it's role in history as a means of telling a story. As a finale (you know, just a quick wee 5 lesson wonder - ha!) I thought we'd make our own animated movie, using plasticine to mould the characters, and stop-motion techniques to make them move.

The children wrote a storyboard (I swear I gave them no prompts, they are just so earnest and cute!) about our school mascot and our T.I.P.S for success - AKA our school values. The soundtrack was our school song.

We made backdrops, characters and sets. We broke cameras (oops) and fought with electronics companies over warranties - so many learning opportunities there alone! We made do with broken (not by us) tripods and masking tape, inconsistent lighting and finally edited our masterpiece using iMovie on one of our class' beloved MacBooks. It was an incredible team exercise that led to the children making their own individual movies and using these skills to complete projects and present work throughout the year in a range of curriculum areas.

I share the wonderful Room Three with another teacher, and I'm meant to just teach Maths, PE and Art, but I just can't help running with the ball sometimes, and to heck with the curriculum. This unit ended up taking half a school year by the time the children had completed their individual movies, but it was worth every second. Through this unit, they have become expert planners, now preferring to use the story board method to plan much of their writing. They have learned the qualities that make a decent digital photograph. They have become excellent critics of their own and others' work. They have learned resourcefulness in the midst of crisis. They have learned about the power of media to tell a story, and the responsibility that comes with this. They have discovered the wonders of Macs and how simply their programs integrate (**sharp nudgy nudge at any PC users nearby**) They have learned that 'less is more' when it comes to special effects (though some grasped this concept better than others - I DETEST nasty, messy transitions!) and of course they learned all of the standard things I expected them to, like film editing, story telling and teamwork.

Love. It.

Anyway, here's our first attempt. Have a snigger at the crappy lighting, the wobbly tripod and the fact that Piko changes shape considerably in the process of the movie. That plasticine is soft stuff! Their later attempts were far better technically, but I don't have their permission to share them. Besides, this is just so cute.



And here are some pics of the process - busy wee hands and minds at work! I seriously had very little involvement in this part of the unit. It was a classic example of children being enabled to lead their learning.

Planning...


Making characters...


Fiming - another movie actually, and wasn't my calssroom UGLY before the reno? Bleeeuugh...


Editing. And a classic case of too many cooks spoiling the broth, probably!


So if you're a teacher, TRY THIS. Do not be intimidated by the management issues, technology or whatever. There is nothing wrong with only being half a step ahead of your students - it can actually serve to be a powerful example of an adult still learning.

And if you're a parent of older kiddies, try it too. Though not on a PC!

If anyone cares, here's the marking rubric I used. Happy to email a PDF if anyone wants a copy...

Sitting at home with leg up...

... or not. How boring would that be?!

Took the day off work today, as yesterday my stitched up knee swelled to amazing proportions and nearly ensured that I wore my loose fitting jeans to bed, as I couldn't get them to peel past my elephantiasis. Turns out it isn't infected, but there is likely some other bone or ligament injury lurking underneath the gore that it making life uncomfortable. X-rays on Friday, when the pain has localised from the wound. Awesome.

So apparently, 'resting' means home, though with my two resident rugrats, I would have a much quieter and more restful time at work, barking at 26 8-10 year olds from my wheelie chair.

Today, sporting a limp and a head of incredibly bad hair after attempting to wash it in the bath last night (one word: DON'T) we manged to knock back a few chores and activities.
* Baking
* Laundry (still have it and 3 other loads to fold, but won't dwell on this)
* Vacuuming. Well, sort of. Used the Ergorapido, which isn't nearly as effective as the Dyson, but it managed to pick up the biggest chucks of crackers and crustiness if you ran over them enough times.
* Fresh pasta made for dinner. Caleb will of course have his nasty gluten free dried stuff, but the rest of us will enjoy pasta the way the Italians intended it -full of wheaty, eggy fabulousness.

I like this blog for crafty inspiration, and at some point whilst whiling away an evening reading it, I came across the idea of using plasticine to make stamps. I've been meaning to try it for ages, but kept forgetting to bring home the blob of grey mixed-up manky stuff I had saved at school after our dabble into Claymation movie making earlier this year. Actually, I really should do a post about that sometime, because it was hilarious and one of the most fabulous units I've ever taught. Sooooooo much learning took place and the kids are so proud of their work that they should be published. Awesome fun and very, very cute.

Anyway, digression aside...
This morning, Soph and I experimented by making impressions into the plasticine using a variety of things, such as:
* Ordinary rubber stamps, giving a 'relief' of the image. This led to lots of discussion about why the pictures appeared white when they were usually inked etc.
* Shapes from our very much loved shape-sorter
* Ball point pens

We also tried to roll out snakes and attach them to the 'stamp' in patterns, but this caused such frustration and angst that the activity was very quickly reformed into a more achievable one of examining fingerprints and drawing faces and limbs on them.

We used an ink pad designed for embossing and card-making, but I am on the look-out for an old fashioned styled one with a hinged lid that I think will be more suited for this type of activity - remember the kind? Can't find them anywhere.

I really wish I'd done this activity at the end of our Geometry unit at school last term. It's such a fun way to play around with reflection, rotation and symmetry. In fact, I might just have to sneak it into Maths / Art some time this term, because it's just so cool!

A few more grey hairs... and just a bit of carnage

I have a two year old boy. I also have a 3 year old girl, but they don't have the sort of reputation that two year old boys have for mischief and mayhem.

Caleb totally fits the stereotype of a busy, active, 'terrible' (usually in a very cute way) two year old. He acts first and thinks later. He is spontaneous and hilarious, but if there is a mess to be made or trouble to get into, he will find it. Even if there are limited opportunities for such things, he will resourcefully create them himself, using whatever he has at his disposal.

Yesterday you met Minty. Today she and Caleb worked together to ensure that I have several more grey hairs, and a stitched up knee.

As I was hanging out the washing this morning, Caleb and Minty were running about on the lawn. At one point, when I was intently focused on something of incredible importance - such as ensuring that each item of clothing was pinned with matching coloured pegs (anyone else do that?) - Caleb mentioned that he was taking Minty for a walk to the cafe. I nodded, or "Mmm-hmmmed" as you do when you are used to toddlers informing you of their pretend games, and carried on finding matching pegs and ensuring that all socks were lined up side-by-side with their buddy. I HATE lost socks!

A few minutes passed, and I heard 'that' silence. You know the one - it makes you suddenly certain, with heart-stopping clarity, that there was mischief and mayhem of a very serious nature happening somewhere. A quick check-in with Soph assured me that a) Caleb was not with her, and that b) she had no idea where he was, but would like to discuss possibilities of where he might be with me at length. As well as many other things. I modeled appalling listening skills, probably damaging her self-esteem irreparably at the same time, and left her talking to herself, as I made a dash for where I knew he had gone. After all, he did tell me!

In the course of this adventure, I did discover a new endurance event that should possibly be considered for the next Olympics (or at least the Commonwealth Games, who seem open to more dubious events **wink-wink**) - I've aptly named it 'The Uphill Gumboot Sprint While Wearing a Dressing Gown'. It's hard work, but the body does amazing things when you know your two year old child is standing somewhere on a busy stretch of State Highway 72.

So anyway, as the road comes into view at the crest of the hill, and the horror of seeing my baby in the centre of a highway with 3 cars approaching at 100kmph, pet lamb trotting after him happily, dawns on me (and this TRULY happened. If you don't believe me, check Geonet) we get another of the pesky aftershocks that we've been plagued with since the 7.1 that rocked our city a month ago. I was thrown onto the road (already sprinting in gumboots and a dressing gown and being incredibly uncoordinated at the best of times, I didn't have much chance, did I?) and managed to get up, and run in front of the oncoming cars, two of which had seen him and were slowing down.

My mind hadn't registered the earthquake, or even my knee with bits of fat hanging out of the open wound (who knew we had fat in our KNEES? I mean, REALLY) I was solely thinking about getting myself in the path of the oncoming ute so that it could hit me and slow down before it struck my son. Got there in time, incidentally, wasn't hit, and the nice Waimakariri District Council man driving the ute gave me only a hint of a lecture before driving us all home (lamb included) and ordering me to make a cup of tea for myself to calm my nerves. I think I needed more than a cup of tea, just quietly!

I went into shock at some point soon after, which I feel a bit silly about, really. Nausea, sweats, fainting, the whole business. Very similar to what happened after Caleb's very fast labour and delivery, actually. What is it about this child and my blood pressure?

It has all served as (yet another) massive reminder of how important safety is around our children. And of course a whole list of those fabulous 'if onlys' that we mothers love to torment ourselves with.
* We could have kept that gate closed, instead of assuming that our relentless lectures about road safety actually had any impact.
* I should have LISTENED when he TOLD me that he was going to take the lamb to the cafe. Honestly, could he have been any more direct?
* I should have kept the fecking lamb in its pen!!!

I am not a 'helicopter parent'. Our philosophy has always been to teach our children how to recognise and respect hazards, not block them off with safety gates and leap at every possible cause for alarm. And as a whole, it has worked (today's incident aside) as our children learned at a very young age how to navigate steps and stairs backward, to avoid hot stuff, and actually how to cross roads, though until today none of them had dared to try it alone!

Lately, the Symes family have been on my mind and in my prayers a great deal, as the 1st anniversary of the tragic death of their angel Aisling came and went. I remember being hugely impacted by this tragedy when it occurred, as I had a two year old (Sophie) at the time and I could so easily relate to how quickly they can move to be out of sight and in serious danger with no warning. Terrible things happen so easily to good people, no matter how fabulous a parent we may be.

So. Boy has been suitably chastised. Knee is now sporting stitches and less fat than previously, as they snipped the excess off before suturing. Should have asked them to do the other knee while they were at it. And bottom. Gate is now closed. And will remain so. Lamb did not get fluffy from cafe as promised by chastised boy.

Go and hug your babies!

The new addition

Meet Minty!

She is a 3 week old South Dorset Down - no Angelina, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right? Her particular kind usually wind up shrink wrapped and sold by the joint for an extortionate sum, but I have more than a sneaking suspicion that she will idle away a long life napping on the deck and nibbling on clover and my vege garden.

The kids adore her, and she follows them around everywhere - inside and out. Only one wee puddle as evidence so far, but I think we might have to have a 'cloven hooves outside' rule. Cruel as it may sound, I think I prefer beasts of the field to remain in the field. Or at least the deck.





She's currently drinking a bottle of raw cows milk 4 times a day, but as she's starting to eat grass a bit, we might be able to cut that down to 3 feeds in a week or so.

And here's Farmer Soph in her working clothes - just be thankful she's not wearing an animal's tail and swimming goggles also!

Parenting other people's children

Make yourself comfortable. This is a longun'. I mean it. Grab a cuppa...

I was such a good parent before I had children. I even had the 'Best Practice' stamp from the Education Review Office for behaviour management. That has to be a bonus, right? I'd cast eye-rolling glances at the toddlers daring to make noise and be small and naughty near me (inwardly, of course - juvenile cues like that don't improve behaviour ;)) and had the solution for every issue that could possible face a parent ironed out and ready to utilise.

And then a funny thing happened. I became a parent.

Suddenly, all lines that had previously been crystal clear in black and white became blurred. Every decision I made in this game potentially had dire consequences. If I was to believe the reams of research I devoured at every crossroads (stroller vs baby carrier? Routine feeding vs demand feeding? Solids at 4 months or delayed until 6 months? Baby capsule vs convertible car seat? Back to work or at home and broke? Sleep training or co-sleeping?) I was doomed to fail my child in some catastrophic way. It. just. isn't. easy.

And this brings me to today's adventures.

I have been blessed with two children who have size 9 personalities. One (the Mark II version) is loud, jovial and social. He loves a good laugh and and gets up to unholy mischief. He is charming, but when he blows his stack, the whole world knows about it. Thankfully it's usually short-lived, because there's fun to be had somewhere, and he's wasting a good time by screaming.

The other (Mark I) is quieter, but stubborn (okay, I'll be positive: determined and resilient) and a master of working a situation or individual to her advantage. She has an admirable ability to use her mood to bend others to her will, and will go far in life through sheer tenacity. When she is happy, the whole world is happy with her. When she is in a foul mood (which can last days) the rest of the world will be too. She will make sure of it! Her mind is constantly thinking, musing, filing information and reading situations - she has been like this since she was born.

I have read a great deal of material about managing children's behaviour, and as I have previously bragged about, I'm not bad at controlling a class of extremely revolting 10 year old boys prone to violence, swearing and general foulness. What I have noticed since being blessed with these wonderful, incredibly different small people, however, is that one size does NOT fit all in the parenting stakes. I get a tad eye-rolly at people who suggest 'positive behaviour management' techniques or sticker charts when they catch a glimpse of Sophie in full flight. It's just not her thing. Caleb loves a good compliment. You can literally see him grow an inch taller if you praise his behaviour. Sophie is a 'glass half empty' person though. She notices the negative things in life. For her, the greatest compliment you could give her is pointing out the revolting behaviour of some other unfortunate child (Not her brother. I'd never do that **darty-eyed glance**) and allowing her to join in the critique and be mother superior.

A classic example of their differing methods of influencing others is often acted out when little old ladies stop and admire them in public. I'm unashamedly biased, but they are pretty darned cute. As soon as they swoon, Caleb starts grinning, giggling, and showing off, charming the pants of them. However, the moment the inevitable comment about Sophie's glorious curls comes out, so does her venomous stare, followed by pursed lips and a sharply averted head. Old ladies usually wither and scarper within seconds.

I really like the book 'Of course I love you, now go to your room' by Diane Levy. In this book, besides appealing to the anal teacher side of me that needs strategies and venn diagrams, she devotes several chapter to differing personalities and the need to parent them differently. It's not fair or productive to respond to my children, who are so obviously different in many ways, in the same, textbook manner. She gives some hilarious scenarios and strategies that seem to work around here with my 'sanguine' son and 'choleric' (though possibly 'melancholic' also - surely the poor child couldn't be cursed with the same personality as her mother!) daughter. Worth a read.

So today. Preschool day. Many mothers with feet firmly placed in the 'SAHM' (Stay At Home Mum - being conversant with acronyms is a sign of successful motherhood) camp would now be casting knowing glances about their tight-knit circle after hearing that information. THAT is exactly what caused the whole debarcle. What my children need, is a full-time mother, not one that fobs her off-spring onto some near strangers just so that she can resume her career. Selfish choices, etc. Who knows if they're right? I probably knew before I HAD kids though. Anyway, it's certainly not helpful information.

It was 4:45pm. We had just driven into town for a doctors appointment. The kids were tired and cranky, and at home, I would have sent them outside to ride bikes or otherwise burn off some steam. Or sat them in front of the TV to zone out. Whichever was easiest, TBH (To Be Honest - learn those acronyms, there may be a test later) because after all, I'm a lazy, working mother. Etc. Is there a chip on my shoulder, or am I just walking crooked?

After the appointment, we had to go to the chemist, which was packed with people like myself, desperate to get their scripts filled before 5pm. Caleb decided that he had to handle every. single. item on every. single. shelf and I didn't feel that was appropriate behaviour. I told him so. Behaviour continued. I repeated earlier statement of dissatisfaction with said behaviour, and informed him of consequence if it continued - sitting in boring corner until he was ready to look with his eyes. Desire to handle every. single. item on every. single. shelf won over fear of consequence, so small child was plonked (gently, of course - can't be seen to be showing physical force in these says where 'reasonable force' is considered illegal) in the boringest corner in the chemist. I stood behind him, preventing escape (though his sister would have easily found a way out - excellent problem solving skills) and he performed the 'Sonata of the Hard-Done-By-Child'. This act was repeated several times in the 15 minutes it took for the prescription to be filled. Think loud, dramatic screaming, copious tears, and periods of silence where he found something more interesting to think about than the gross injustice of not being allowed to handle fragile merchandise at the responsible age of two. Every now and then, he'd declare "I'm ready now. Be a good boy. Look wiff eyes" and he'd be released from his prison, only to find the temptation too great, despite having Mummy at his ear reminding him, and he'd be marched back to the corner.

I could have taken him outside, but I had two children with me, and 'outside' was a carpark. I could have locked him in the car, but the chemist was going to close soon and being a working mother, I'm lazy **wink-wink**.

I actually felt that I was doing the responsible thing by disciplining my child in an appropriate, gentle manner given his personality and the situation. I'm sorry that others had to bear witness to my less-than-perfect child performing embarrassingly badly. But why do these 'others' feel the need to glare, mutter rude remarks to themselves, their workmates (I HEARD you, chemist girls - we teachers have super-sonic hearing!) and total strangers about someone else's parenting when they are obviously trying and being consistent.

If I was ignoring my child, and letting him handle all merchandise to his heart's content, I'm certain that I would be judged. If I smacked him, I'm certain I'd be judged. If I left him alone in the car, I'd be judged. No matter what course of action I followed in this situation (and any other, for that matter) I faced judgement from a room full of people convinced that they could do a better job of raising my children than myself.

And this is sad. I'm tired of the assumptions that because I'm a mother, I'm a bad one. That because I work, my children are missing out on something. That because I started solids early, I set my kids up for allergies. That because I didn't crack a full year of BF (breastfeeding - an important one!) Sophie, she has a lower IQ than she otherwise might (though God help us all if I had fed her longer if that is the case!). That because I shut my children's doors at night, I am encouraging a fear of the dark... If these sound like ridiculous assumptions, it's because they ARE. And the guilt imposed by opinionated others and sidelong glances from strangers are unnecessary and unhelpful. Next time you see a mother trying her best, give her a smile and choose to applaud her for putting in the hard yards. The children that are being hurt and neglected in our society do not belong to these mothers making parenting choices that you may not approve of. They belong to the mothers who choose not to make decisions at all.

Phew. Heavy reading. Sorry!

All about Playcentre

The kids and I have been attending our local Playcentre for most of their lives. I thought I'd snap lots of pictures of today's session to give a wee snapshot of a typical session, to persuade some of you nay-sayers (I know you're out there!) that it can be a really neat way of being a part of your child's preschool education. There are duties involved (forgot to do my holiday one - sorry to whoever had to scrub the tables. I owe you) and there are days when I'd rather just stay at home and turn the TV on than pack lunches, be sociable, clean up other kids' mess and nudge Sophie through that particular day's social etiquette lessons with her peers.

However...

• It's cheap. I guess it'd need to be, considering that you can't leave untoilet-trained children there, and you need to help on your rostered duty days.
• You get to spy on your kids in a different environment, which you feel a bit odd doing in a preschool situation. Though I have done it (**darty-eyed glance**) I like getting a broader picture of where my kids' social skills are at. It's not often good if I'm to be honest, but we're working on "Hello" as a starter, instead of a venomous glare. We will get there, they tell me...
• You get to make mess with cool stuff somewhere else. This is important if you dislike cleaning or share my repressed tidy gene.
  
• You children love it! Enough said.
• Good for kids / mums who aren't ready to do the preschool / kindy alone thing.
• Good support network for mums.
  
• There really is a huge potential for learning in this environment. We as parents know our preschoolers best, so we know what activities and topics interest them. And I know it varies vastly from minute to minute, but Playcentre is a great place to snatch those learning opportunities when they arise and make the mess somewhere else. Have I mentioned that before?

Anyway, my bullet points look untidy, so I'll stop rambling and post some pictures. This is the official Playcentre website, so that you can find your local ;)

Obstacle course

Getting some gas - Caleb's favourite Playcentre pastime



Lunch in a hidey-hole



Playing Ponies - the blimmin' things are at Playcentre too!



Baking soda volcanoes in the sand pit



Picasso in action
(Did I just spell his name wrong? Can't be bothered Googling...)



Mess, glorious mess!



The most cautious child in the world JUMPS!



Snack on the go. Why not?



The Lean Mean Running Biking Machine



And... Sophie at home, proudly wearing her pipe-cleaner glasses that she has been begging relentlessly to make for days, and her pink medal, earned for being the official Lego-picking-up champion of Tuesday, the 12th of October. Pick is even better than gold, ya know ;)

First day of Term Four! ... And pie

We shan't talk about school. Not interesting and more than slightly stressy, though my fancy, newly renovated classroom may merit a photo or two when I get some pictures on the walls and some boxes emptied.

Remember yesterday, when I marvelled at Miss Three's incredible behaviour whilst out and about? It was a ruse. Her and Caleb were just tag-teaming rascal-ness. Today I was informed that I was NOT going to her birthday party (through a slammed bedroom door, even) though when I snarkily informed her that Daddy doesn't know how to make fun cakes, I was re-invited ;) Phew. It's a tough life being a mean Mummy sometimes.

Anyway, my ghastly day made me think about pastry a lot, so I was DELIGHTED to find a packet of pre-rolled flaky pastry sheets in the freezer. So delighted that I promptly thawed them and used one sheet to make yummy, twisty, pestoey, parmesany cheesy things for afternoon tea. The packet said they contained 30% less fat, so that should mean that I can have 30% more, right? Did anyway. Made pie for dinner after that. It was goooooooooood!

I am very fond of Sophie Gray, the Destitute Gourmet. I think my husband is, too, because since I began using her recipes, I discovered I loved cooking! I think he is hoping that there is a housework version of her that might inspire me also, but I don't like his chances. The pie recipe I am posting below (I am allowed to do that, right?) is from her 'Everyday' cookbook, and it really is yum. I cheated and used frozen pastry (**sigh - yes, I know, but sometimes I need fast pastry and can't cope with the flaffing about with grating butter etc that comes with making it from scratch. So there. Besides, the frozen stuff has 30% less fat, remember? Makes it okay**) so I didn't bother with the pastry part tonight...

Plymouth Pie
Serves 4-6

1 tbsp oil
1 brown onion, chopped
700g lean minced beef (I used about 300g and a couple of handfuls of red lentils that I boiled first - NEVER, NEVER, NEVER use more than 400g of mince in a meal - stingey, eh?)
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
3 tbsp plain flour
250ml beef stock plus 1 beef stock cube (I use GF beef stock, and just use a heaped tsp, which makes it strong enough)
1 carrot, peeled and finely diced
4 tbsp tomato sauce
pinch of mixed herbs
3/4 cup peas (I used frozen corn too)
salt & pepper

Pie crust
1 1/4 cups plain flour
170g butter
pinch of salt
1/2 cup cold water
egg for glazing

To make the pie crust - Mix butter into flour with your fingertips, add the salt and cold water until the mixture comes together. You may not need all of the water (or maybe even a touch more) so add it gradually. Form into a ball, wrap in greaseproof paper and rest in the fridge for half an hour.

Filling - Heat oil in a saucepan and cook onion until soft. Add meat and brown it. Add worcestershire sauce and flour - mix well. Stir in stock & stock cube, carrot, tomato sauce & herbs. Simmer, covered for 15 mins, stirring occasionally. Add peas, season with salt & pepper and simmer another 3-5 minutes. Set aside to cool. Roll out half the pastry. Line a 23cm metal pie dish with the rolled out pastry, then fill it with the cooled meat mixture. Roll out the rest of the pastry, put it on top, crimp the edges and brush with beaten egg yolk. Poke a couple of holes in the top for the steam to come out. Bake at 190 deg C for 30 minutes or until crisp and golden.

Did two amazingly dumb things today. Please learn from them.
#1) Ensure that you remove rubber band holding slender stalks of organic asparagus spears together before steaming. Adds nasty rubbery taste.
#2) Don't drop shock / waterproof camera when USB port flap is open. It will break, meaning that a) it wasn't really ever shock proof anyway, and b) it is no longer waterproof.

Think I need to get over today. Hot bath beckons - after the dishes...

Lemony deliciousness

I have a weakness for lemony things. I used to be a chocoholic, and am still partial to the odd square / entire block of the dark stuff, but lemons are now IT. Number one.

I've been churning out jars of lemon curd all winter, and adding it to all sorts of recipes, seeking to reach the highest pinnacle of teeth-gritting, lemony perfection - aka the divine Lemon Slice, sold at Route 72 Cafe for $3.90 a slice. Not that I partake often. Or not that often anyway. Is weekly often? Okay, maybe twice a week **darty eyed glance**

So these are my favourite recipes, shared with you in an effort to spread the lemon love:

LEMON MUFFINS WITH CRUNCHY LEMON SUGAR TOPPING

These are delicious served warm or cold.

• 2 cups self-raising flour
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 75 g butter
• 1 cup milk
• 1 egg
• grated rind of 1 large or 2 small lemons
• 1/4 cup lemon juice
• 1/4 cup sugar

Mix flour and sugar in bowl.

Melt butter, add the milk, egg and lemon rind. Beat well with a fork to combine.

Add wet ingredients to the dry ingredients and stir until ingredients are only just dampened. Do not overmix.

Divide the mixture between 12 greased muffin cups. Bake at 200 C for 10 minutes.

Stir together the lemon juice and sugar and drizzle over the muffin as soon as they are removed from the oven. I like to prick the top of the muffins with a toothpick so the flavour soaks in more. Leave to stand in the pans for only a few minutes as the syrup will harden and stick the muffins to the pans.

Made these today, but added a spoon of lemon curd to each muffin pan before topping with more batter. The curd kind of oozes in as the muffins bake, so no hidden lemony surprises, but a lovely zingy texture all the same.

Also had terrible time finding muffin pan today. Searched high and low, muttered foul words at and about children who steal Mummy's baking things for their sandpit fun, then eventually found it - in the freezer filled with bird pies that we made earlier this week! Couldn't be bothered cleaning fat off it (**gag-heave**) so hastily shoved it back in freezer and shut door. Best it stays in there...

Big fan of this, also. Has a slightly crusty top and shortbread style base, which is a nice balance with the zingy middle. Not quite to Route 72's standard, but close. Ish.

LEMON SLICE

• 2 cups flour
• 1/2 cup icing sugar
• 150 g butter
• 3 eggs
• 1/4 cup lemon juice
• 2 lemons, zest of
• 1 1/2 cups caster sugar
• 1/4 cup self-raising flour

• 
  

1. Preheat oven to 160°C.
2. Place flour, icing sugar and butter in a food processor, mix until a ball is formed around the blade (don't use hard butter as it won't form into a ball).
3. Lined the tin with baking paper to come up a bit over two sides, (this will make removal a lot easier).
4. Place into a slice tin and press flat.
5. Bake for 20 minutes.
6. In same food processor bowl (not need to wash) add eggs, lemon juice, zest, castor sugar and self-raising flour, process until well combined.
7. Once base has cooked for 20 mins take out and pour in filling and place back in oven and cook for a further 15 - 20 minutes or until it feels sets in middle.

Also have respectable lemon and poppy seed cake that deserves to be shared also, but getting tired of typing after a frightful evening attempting to socialise with friends with 2 year old child in tow. Had 3 year old in tow also, but she was a saint. Probably too fascinated by the potential outcomes of her brother's horrific behaviour to contemplate havoc of her own.

Need a drink. Back at work tomorrow...

**twitch-twitch**

Nooooooooo!

School holidays are more-or-less over. I can't deny it any longer. I blew the dust off my work bag this afternoon, and horrified to find ... WORK! That I have to do! Eeeeeeeeeek!

Soph went off to a theatre production with Steve this afternoon, and Caleb was playing pirates very happily on his own for an hour or two ("Pincess. Fall in water. NOW!!" **insert splashing noises and shrieks of dispair** "Halp me, Halp me!" "Oh yes. Have a sleep in bed") so I managed a wee bit of productive stuff, though I'm cursing 'Numbers', the Mac spreadsheet program. I'm sure it's wonderful, as all things Mac are (once you've gone Mac, you'll never go back, etc) but it p*ssed me right off today. Anyway, life will go on...

Also managed some more painting, but as am now out of canvases, won't be doing any more for a while. Think this one will go in the bathroom.

Sophie is now the proud owner of a special craft box, filled to overflowing with creative delights and wonders. Her eyes literally popped out of her head when she opened the lid. Very satisfying reaction, considering the contents were what I scrounged from my scrapbooking supplies (okay, so not the really nice stuff) supplemented with fancy zig-zaggy scissors, glitter, pom-poms, acrylic paint that is too crappy for canvas, craft sticks etc that have been hidden away for donkey's years - have I mentioned that I'm a hoarder? We put her 'Bits and Pieces' tackle box in there too, and made some rules to ensure limited mess and maximum fun.

1) Mummy MUST be present when we use it.
2) We decide what we are making, take what we need out of the box, make said thing, then pack things away. No half-finished, messy stuff is to be left lying about, just because we suddenly decided that we wanted to make something with bells instead.
3) We work on the table. We made this rule after Caleb made off with (and presumably ate) 7 or 8 large sized googly eyes late this afternoon.

Anyway, Soph decided we'd make puppets today, so we did! Cute, eh?!

Arty stuff

Today I uncovered an uninspiring half-finished painting that had been shoved under the spare bed in a fit of artistic depression some months ago.

I took advantage of the fact that the kids were at preschool and entirely painted over it. Fairly pleased with the result, though the photo makes it look a tad crappier than real life - I'll blame the lighting ;) It will be good to get it hung and have something on our walls that isn't a shrine to our family - I think we've overdone the photographs, lately!

When Sophie got home, she was desperate to paint too, but I couldn't be bothered with the mess today, so I gave her a charcoal pencil instead. I was so chuffed with what she produced that I framed them and hung them on the wall.

It has only been within the past few months that Sophie's drawings have begun to look like actual drawings, rather than random scribbling, though we still get a fair bit of that, too. The name writing is new too, though in typical Sophie style, she showed no interest or inclination towards it at all, until one day she just scrawled it down on a piece of paper, as if she'd been writing it her entire life.

Initially she was furious that she had mistakenly given her person arms that protruded from its head, but she's now decided that it's hilarious instead. Thank goodness, because "it's going straight to the pool room"...

Bird pies

We made bird pies today, but not the sort actually containing birds, with feet sticking out out of the pastry, immortilised in Roald Dahl's 'The Twits'. Our pies are actually an attempt to bring birds closer to our barren, near tree-less block - though heaven help them if they dare venture near the deck!

I remember reading a particular School Journal article with reading group once upon a time that contained a recipe for these wee birdy treats. I couldn't remember it exactly, but here's what we did, and it seemed to work:

Bird Pies
* 1c dripping (**gag-heave**)
* 1c breadcrumbs
* 1c assorted seeds (we used a 'Wild Bird' mix which was $2.90 at Woolworths, but was intending to use a mix of wheat and barley)
* 1c Rolled oats

1) Warm dripping (**gag-heave once again**) and mix ingredients.
2) Firmly press into muffin pans.
3) Knot some string or yarn and press into the mix, ensuring that knot is well-buried.
4) Bung in the freezer for a bit until set.
5) Carefully ease out and hang wherever you'd like to attract birds.

We wound up with 6 of these suckers, so I do apologise in advance to anyone unfortunate enough to visit us anytime soon - you will undoubtedly have one of these treasures foisted upon your ever-grateful self, as Sophie is certain that they are the ultimate gift.

Lets hope they attract some birds - other than the wretched magpies Steve has been shooting off, that is! Even if they don't work, it sparked some great discussion and was lots of fun.

Only one day of school holidays left :( Really, really should get planning that Measurement Unit...

Spring has sprung!

It has been such a gorgeous day here, I'm picking 25 degrees celcius - unusually warm for this time of year. The sort of day that makes you realise that you really should slop on the sunscreen and find last year's (too small) sunhats.

We spent the day outside, playing, yakking, exploring.

The kids love the obstacle course at preschool, which consists of lots of bits of fancy coloured steel that snap together in limitless ways to create bridges, beams, monkey bars etc. Today we made our own version together, using a tunnel, a plank of decking timber, Caleb's old cot mattress and the swingset. Lots of problem-solving, trial and error putting it together (and stopping the tunnel from blowing away) and literally hours of fun!

Soph would have liked it to have been a bit more complicated, but Caleb (just turned 2) still hasn't quite mastered some of the physical skills necessary, such as jumping with both feet, so we'll have to keep it simple for now.

Dinner was on the deck again tonight - bliss!