Friday, September 23, 2005

The simple things in life

I recently heard that Balga High School had a creche on their premises in order to encourage their students to continue with their education after the birth of their babies. Having grown up in Balga I thought this was the most marvellous thing I'd heard. The birth rate of babies to teenagers in the area is extraordinarily high. By encouraging the girls to finish their TEE, they were giving them a better chance to get off the poverty treadmill.

Battboy and I have just had a major declutter. As a result we have a washing basket full of 000 - 00 clothing. We thought about the child care centre our children are currently enrolled in, but discarded it as most of the babies that come in are over 6 weeks old and getting too big for 000 clothes. We thought of donating them to the Good Sammies, but that thought went through a 90 degree process. If we're going to donate them, why not give them to someone actively working to better the lives of babies and their mothers?

I just phoned BHS and offered the clothes to the woman who runs the creche. I'm so glad I did. It was such a little thing to me, but it made her day. They have two teen mums due to deliver any day. Now I'm looking around to see what else we can offer. After an emotionally gruelling week that has had me second guessing every decision made, I feel on top of the world again.

In other news:

My beloved and I are about to have our first time off in 10 months. Erin's grandmother has said she'd like to include Connor in her Erin weekend. They're both going down tonight and Connor comes back Sunday morning while Erin comes back Wednesday morning. This is fine by me. I'm both looking forward to the two sleep-ins but nervous about being without my baby. I've never had one night away from him, let alone two. Any more than that and I'd be a wreck, especially with Connor's asthma.

If it were anyone but Lynn, I'd never agree, but she has taken Connor on as a grandson from the start and I totally trust her.

Oh before I forget...

If you watch Inxs on a Saturday, the following is a spoiler

Lee and I watched the first couple of shows. Then we dropped it. Then we picked it up again as it neared the end. I saw the episode where JD announced to the band that while his friends were auditioning for a part in a band, he was auditioning for a part in INXS's band. I saw the following episode when the 'housemates' (for want of a better word) jumped all over this and got really cranky. I also watched it when the band said "You know, he's right."

From the moment he opened his big Canadian mouth, I hoped JD would win. Not only was he talented, he was brash and I like that.

So, as of last week we were down to the final three.

Mig. So sexy. For many years I've hated the fact that men stare at my breasts rather than look into my eyes whilst talking to me. When it comes to Mig's abs, I find my gaze unwilling to travel anywhere above his sternum. Yum. Does anyone know if he has a good voice?
I knew they wouldn't choose him, though. He's Australian. If they chose him they'd put the US public off.

Marty. Not so sexy but passable. More Iggy Pop that Michael Hutchence. Good voice, and I thought his song was alright. I even started to sing it in my head after he finished, although I can't remember what it's called now apart from it having something to do with trees.

JD. Sexy, excellent stage presence, involved both the audience and the band members in his act. I loved him and by last night's performance I knew he deserved to win. What he did with "What You Need" wiped the floor with Marty's version of "Don't Change a Thing."

So it's over. Yes, on the whole I enjoyed it. I feel a little dirty to admit it, but I loved hearing the old songs again even if they were occasionally murdered.

But what will happen from here? The eighties child in me loves the idea of a JD-led INXS, but the mother of a fourteen year old wonders about viability of such a thing. Let's face it, INXS hit their hey-day many many many years ago. The final years with Michael aren't march to crow about. Can JD bring a new dimension to an old band whilst acknowledging the RnB generation? Will Marty do better on his own than without the band as a convenient back up?

We'll see.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

The answer my friend is blowin' in the wind

How many clues do you need before you realise your current life-style isn't working?

Is it when:
You've been working for 6 1/2 weeks and have already used up 5 sick days to look after your asthmatic baby and his recurrent breathing, ear or throat problems?

Or when:
Your daughter comes home from day care with nits (AGAIN!!) and the staff treat you like a negligent parent even though you know you nuked her hair yesterday morning, and last Friday and the Tuesday before that and...

Or could it be when:
You can stand between the pile of washing waiting to go in the machine and the pile of washing to be folded and they both come up to your knees.

The last conversation you and your husband had was not about work, kids, books, movies or music. It was about whose turn it is to toss a salad to go with the take away chicken.

Or perhaps it's when:
The dispute ends with "Is salad all that important? Really?"

Sunday, September 18, 2005


I work for a health fund. I've learnt a lot about providers during that time. So imagine my dismay tonight when I broke a tooth while eating rock candy.
"Lee, my love, you need to get a second job!"

Just the thought of dental costs makes me feel sick.

And no, we're not with the health fund we work for as yet, so I can't even look for the cheapest mob through my Lotus Notes.

The Little Things

Occasionally, every now and then, you have a win. It may not be a big win, in fact, in terms of beating the odds it's rather small. But, it's a win none the less and it's yours to enjoy.

This morning Battboy and I woke up with a need to get out. For the first time in a long time I didn't have the Triffkids for the weekend and I was feeling the loss. So my beloved and I decided to pack the Battbabies into the car and hit the Canning Vale markets.

As usual the staple fare of these stalls consist of badly looked after 1970's eclectica (I figure the owners must have missed last week's council collection) but we did chance upon a rather wide ranging book stall. Immediately I found a book I'd always wanted, Amistead Maupin's Tales of the City for $10. Not too bad a price, but not great. I also found a copy of Kim Wilkins' The Resurrectionists for $9. I'm a fan but also not a price I was willing to pay to pay for a second hand book. So I girded my loins and offered the stall holder $15 for both.
"Are you kidding?" he stroppily replied. "That would be giving them away." I shrugged, turned and put them back. "Make it $17," came the quick counter offer.
I shook my head, moved on with my little family to the next stall. Battboy and I were in the process of buying a rather amazing Aztec calendar for $10. The guy ran up with both books, shoved them at me and said, "Okay, you can have them for $15."

Obviously the thought of getting $15 for them won over the need to take them home for another week.

I feel ever so pleased with myself.

And a little side note: 1200 words written yesterday on Black Dog Daze.

Monday, September 12, 2005

My baby adds another year

It' s hard to believe, but my Triffitt baby is about to turn 11. Armed with presents, we went to lunch at Willow Pond as requested and sat down to enjoy a lovely afternoon.

The surrounds at Willow Pond, it must be said, are sublime. The weather was perfect and the Triffbatts were able to sit outside and enjoy the warmth of the day while overlooking the pond. The food was another matter. While some of us thought it was alright, nobody gushed about it. I love food. My beloved loves food. The kids love food. On the whole, we were all rather disappointed.

And I won't talk about the crappy service. Longest wait ever. Then Aiden found a hair floating in his coke and we had a fanta delivered that we didn't ask for, nor wanted.

After a while we decided to head of to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Half way there I took a look at Aiden and abruptly changed my mind. He looked awful. Very pale, very nervous. We turned around and headed for home with promises we'd try again on Sunday.

By Saturday night, however, A was looking better and we set out again.

A short pause while I tell you about Blakey-boy's presents.

We bought Baldur's Gate 2. Nothing surprising there. It's alright if you like that sort of thing. The boys love it. We thought it would be a good replacement for the Vice City game we confiscated two weeks ago (the violence really was abhorrent.)


My boys talk incessantly about a cartoon called Happy Tree Friends. It's their favourite thing in the world. I know they've told me about it in the past, but, you know, it's like a cartoon, about furry animals and nature and stuff (I don't do nature), so I tuned them out. Anyhoo, Battboy sees a DVD for sale with bonus episodes. He thinks of the upcoming birthday and grabs it. He doesn't read the blurb. He brings it home, shows me, and stashes it in our pressie drawer. I take it out, wrap it up and put it in Connor's bag. Lee gets a card and fills it out. We're off. Lunch happens.

Blakey opens the presents and makes the appropriate excited noises over Baldur's Gate. He then opens the second one. Talk about rapture. This kid went into paroxysms of glee. Naturally he starts babbling about it. Naturally I tune him out. "Can we go home? Can we watch it now?"
"After Charlie," I answer, reading the back of the wine list.
As we know Aiden got sick. We went home.
The boys settled down on the couch and begin to watch HTF.
"Lyn!" my darling calls from the loungeroom. "You should see this."
Like, why? It's about furry animals. Being cute. As far as I'm concerned the only time a furry animal looks cute is when it has a band-saw hanging out of it's butt (Yes, I hate animals, but I have good reason. I keep Claratyne in business.) My lovely husband is persistant, so I settle down next to him on the couch and prepare to be bored.
Remember my flippant band-saw comment. Somebody took me at my word. An hour later I was still sitting on the couch, curled up against my burly protector, hiding my eyes from the carnage.
I'm still traumatised.
And to think we took Vice City of them because of the irrational violence.

Now, where was I before the pause. Oh yes. Charlie.

Thirty years ago I was treated to something really special. I mean, ultra amazing, six year old, never to be repeated special.
I was one of the two children in Western Australia who got to see Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory first. Before anybody else.
My dad and his best friend Bob worked as Props Technicians at the Regal theatre (at least I think it was the Regal. It seems right, but this is a memory 30 years old). They managed to get their hands on the newly arrived reels, set them up in the empty cinema, bought Bob's daughter Jane and myself some of those newly arrived sweeties called Tic Tacs and left us to watch the movie. All by ourselves. In that huge cinema.
We were first, man.

Now, anybody who knows me, knows that my dad was a monster. He was evil. Bad. Not one of the good guys. But that one action keeps him fondly in my memory. He occasionally did that sort of thing.

On the weekend, we took the kids to see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

I sat down on the chair. Stared up at the screen and made a decision.

I was not a reviewer. I was not a writer. I was not the wife of a mad film goer who holds opinions on every movie ever made. I was not even an adult.

With that settled, I sat back and allowed myself to be entertained. I was totally captivated. The movie was enchanting and I was hooked. It's on my 'buy this' list.

Sunday - The final day

We had cheesecake for Blake's birthday yesterday. Note to all. Fruit jelly and candles don't mix.

All in all, a wonderful weekend.

And now, on with the week.