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It was just a drizzle. A gentle tickle of rain. I dressed Chaylee in a valor sweat suit with a hood just in case the chill in the air began to nibble at her soft cheeks. We were off to pick up Kenna from kindie.
I didn’t bring much other than my phone and some sultanas (raisins) for Chaylee. I wanted to pack light so that I could negotiate the pram with greater ease. It is a 40 minute round trip walk so every little bit helps. The walk was a dream. The cool temperature, a welcome departure from the scorching sun. Kenna was eager to tell us about her day and walked along side the stroller with much to say. I could only listen with moderate attentiveness however, because I was distracted by some ominous clouds that were quickly approaching. They were black. They were bulbous. They screamed of pending doom! “Hey Kenna…we may need to pick up the pace here dove. It looks like rain is heading our…..” No sooner had I spoken did the dam break. This was biblical rain. I grabbed my phone from my pocket and placed it in a small compartment next to the cup holders that were steadily filling with water. It would be safe there. Kenna screamed with delight. Chaylee splashed in the pool that had developed in her tray. Water begin to fill my shoes as it rushed down the sidewalk. It was then I looked down and realized… I was naked. How could I make such a terrible wardrobe error? A long sleeved white shirt, a black brazier and a pair of thin light beige pants? WHAT? Nothing was left to the imagination. Every curve and crevice was on display. I begin to push with even greater fury and purpose. I kept my head down, my stomach sucked in and my arms arched so as to prevent shirt suction. It did not help matters that the entire neighborhood was out in force picking up their children from school. Umbrellas floated all around me. Children ran all about in rain jackets and clever hats. My children looked as if they had been thrown in a pool. At least we survived. My phone was not so lucky. An old family adage: If you can’t make it good, make it memorable. Poll: Would you rather: Trivia: They are referring to this summer in NSW as the “lost summer” due to the unseasonable cool temperatures and abundance of rain. Word of the Day: Nuddy: Naked |
Category: children
I just couldn’t swing it
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It was a beautiful day today in Roseville. We walked beneath a canopy of large palms and gum trees as we made our way home through Beauchamp Park: the pram loaded with groceries and our hearts blooming with gratitude and wonder. Mike would make his way home with two ridiculously heavy bags of groceries, in an effort to get certain products to a colder climate. I would stay at the park with the girls for a bit to enjoy the day before carting the rest of the weeks food supply home. Kenna ran to the sand pit to play with her gardening toys and I sat perched on a robust swing with Chaylee so I could feel her delight and watch the gentle wind play with her soft hair….ahhhhhhh. AHHHHHHHH! It is amazing how many thoughts can actually make their way through your mind in a split second… Oh no… Although all these things crossed my mind I only uttered two words. “F%$# ME!” In summary, not only did I fall off a swing in public, sparing my child, but exposing the top half of my buttox, I swore in front of children in a distinctly American accent. I let you all down. I am sorry. You will be glad to know however, that I rallied. I sat up and laughed and laughed…and laughed some more in an effort to make those around me more comfortable with what had occured. I demonstrated optimism and humility. In that moment, I made America proud. And with an aching back and squandered pride, I pushed the mega-ton stroller home. All in all, it was a good day. Daily Poll: What is the best way to handle a fall that occurs in public? Do you like when people try and help you? Terms of the Day: Cack Handed: Clumsy Factoid: Overall, about 79 percent (three-fourths) of the injuries that occur on public (playground) equipment involve falls, primarily to the surface below the equipment. |
Australian Party Habits
Today is Kenna’s Birthday!!! She is four years old and very proud to be so.
I have to admit, I was afraid of what this day would be like for her. Our parties at home are generally a raucous affair. Typically, I cook way too much food, invite far too many people, provide ludicrous amounts of sugar to small children, spend way too much on cheap decor, and lean heavily upon the help of friends and family to pull it off. At some point during the night, I usually get my groove on to some old school beats with the help of my beloved sisters/girlfriends (and Mitch) and we dance into the night, stopping only to eat some more…
So, what is a mommy like me to do when her little girl is about to embark on another year and family and friends are an ocean away? She invites the three families she knows over for ice cream.
It seemed perfect. Quaint, simple, and easy.
Last week I noticed that Kenna had made a sweet little friend named Elspeth. I decided to ask El’s mom if she could come to our little party. Unfortunately, it wasn’t her mom. It was the mother of another student and hence, my quaint plans begin to unravel before my eyes like a dollar store sweater.
“Oh…well, Matt can, uh, come too…I mean, we would love to have him…all the children are welcome,” I said with an unsure stutter.
I called upon my Aussie friend Jane and explained the scenario to her in hopes that she could help me deal with the situation in a way that was culturally appropriate. She instructed me to post a little note at the preschool the day of the party informing parents that there would be a gathering to celebrate Kenna.
This morning Mike took Kenna to school and delivered the small, hand written party invitation to Kenna’s teacher. When I arrived to pick Kenna up from Kindie, I was greeted with a giant sandwich board containing my homemade invite, a larger typed version of said invitation and three balloons adorned with ribbon curls. I knew I was in trouble.
Poll: If you were invited to a stranger’s child’s birthday party the day of the event, would you attend?
Fifty people, mostly children, showed up for Kenna’s party today…ON TIME! I was flabbergasted, appalled, paralyzed by culture shock. Who are these people?
My friends Jane (a.k.a. Super Jane) and Sonja saved the day. They brought snacks, wine, extra dessert, and tea. Evidently, no party is complete without tea. Holla!
Word of the day: Cuppa: Short for cup of tea. “Come over and have a cuppa and we’ll chat about how full on the party was.”
Factoid: * In 1954, Bob Hawke was immortalised by the Guinness Book of Records for sculling 2.5 pints of beer in 11 seconds. Bob later became the Prime Minister of Australia. What does this have to do with birthdays and pre schoolers? Nothing. I just found it intriguing and thought I would share it with you.
Today is Kenna’s Birthday!!! She is four years old and very proud to be so.
I have to admit, I was afraid of what this day would be like for her. Our parties at home are generally a raucous affair. Typically, I cook way too much food, invite far too many people, provide ludicrous amounts of sugar to small children, spend way too much on cheap decor, and lean heavily upon the help of friends and family to pull it off. At some point during the night, I usually get my groove on to some old school beats with the help of my beloved sisters/girlfriends (and Mitch) and we dance into the night, stopping only to eat some more…
So, what is a mommy like me to do when her little girl is about to embark on another year and family and friends are an ocean away? She invites the three families she knows over for ice cream.
It seemed perfect. Quaint, simple, and easy.
Last week I noticed that Kenna had made a sweet little friend named Elspeth. I decided to ask El’s mom if she could come to our little party. Unfortunately, it wasn’t her mom. It was the mother of another student and hence, my quaint plans begin to unravel before my eyes like a dollar store sweater.
“Oh…well, Matt can, uh, come too…I mean, we would love to have him…all the children are welcome,” I said with an unsure stutter.
I called upon my Aussie friend Jane and explained the scenario to her in hopes that she could help me deal with the situation in a way that was culturally appropriate. She instructed me to post a little note at the preschool the day of the party informing parents that there would be a gathering to celebrate Kenna.
This morning Mike took Kenna to school and delivered the small, hand written party invitation to Kenna’s teacher. When I arrived to pick Kenna up from Kindie, I was greeted with a giant sandwich board containing my homemade invite, a larger typed version of said invitation and three balloons adorned with ribbon curls. I knew I was in trouble.
Poll: If you were invited to a stranger’s child’s birthday party the day of the event, would you attend?
Fifty people, mostly children, showed up for Kenna’s party today…ON TIME! I was flabbergasted, appalled, paralyzed by culture shock. Who are these people?
My friends Jane (a.k.a. Super Jane) and Sonja saved the day. They brought snacks, wine, extra dessert, and tea. Evidently, no party is complete without tea. Holla!
Word of the day: Cuppa: Short for cup of tea. “Come over and have a cuppa and we’ll chat about how full on the party was.”
Factoid: * In 1954, Bob Hawke was immortalised by the Guinness Book of Records for sculling 2.5 pints of beer in 11 seconds. Bob later became the Prime Minister of Australia. What does this have to do with birthdays and pre schoolers? Nothing. I just found it intriguing and thought I would share it with you.
Carless Whisper-Life on the Pram
I was going to use this venue to complain about my lack of vehicle. After all, it always feels kind of nice when people feel sorry for you. However, I have decided to take another approach. How have I grown over the last month of carlessness?
1. I have become more muscular from pushing 100 pounds up and down rolling hills several times a day in sweltering heat and dehydrating humidity.
2. My spacial relations skills have improved as a result of having to fit 13 bags of groceries into a stroller (pram) with two kids in tow.
3. I have become more resourceful. One has to be to get the aforementioned items home.
4. I have become far more brave. How could I not? You try pushing a double stroller in flip flops when suddenly a tropical thunderstorms begins to pelt you and your children with rain while thunder rolls and lightning strikes.
5. I have become a better liar. “I love thunder and lightning. Don’t you Kenna? I think this is really fun!” See? Who needs a car?
Word of the Day: Donk: Engine for a car or a boat. “I wish I had a donk on my pram.”
Poll of the Day: Would you be willing to go without a car for a month?
Factoid: The new Australian Prime Minister just held a National Day of Apology to the Stolen Generation…a generation of “half-caste” Aboriginal children who were taken from their parents to be assimilated into Australian Society. The PM, Kevin Rudd gave a breathtaking speech that was aired on every station in Australia. It was incredibly powerful. I was honored to be a witness to such a historic event in Australian history.
Movie Suggestion: If you have not seen it, I highly recommend the film, Rabbit Proof Fence. It beautifully depicts the true story of three such children.
Shout Out: Kirsten, my beloved sister. No one can possibly know how much I love you. How much you are a part of me. How much I miss you. Happy birthday sissy. There are no words to describe how grateful I am we were put together in the same family. You are a musical genius and a brilliant sister. I LOVE YOU.
Hooroo
Pasley’s Down Under – Part 1
It is raining cats and dingos down here. I have never seen anything like it. We live in the suburb of Roseville, which is just North of Sydney over (or under) the Harbor Bridge. It is near Chatswood/Willoughby…in case you can’t find it on a map. It is a beautiful neighborhood with incredible gumtrees and palm trees all about. It is very green with a tropical feel and the weather to prove it. It is generally hot as sin or raining hard enough to inspire ark building. No happy medium. It is an amazing place to visit! But, I must be honest that life without my dear ones near by has been tough to adapt to. In the words of Chicago, you (all are) a hard habit to break. (Just a note: I think I will incorporate as many Chicago lines as possible into this blog, just for giggles…enjoy). Some bulleted observations.
- > 1. Australians LOVE Australia. They like America. They like Fiji. But they LOVE AUSTRALIA. You will understand if you come here.
- >2.They do not speak English here. It is a little known dialect called: Strine (say it out loud and you will understand). For example: The barber asked Mike if he wanted a hotel. Mike said, “No thank you, I live here now.” “Naw mate,” he replied, “Do you want a hotel?” Mike again replied, “No I don’t really need one, I am heading home after this…” “Naw mate,” the barber responded, “a hotel, you know like to put on your face…a hot towel?”
- >3. There are two types of Australians as far as I can tell so far: the type that want you to be terrified of the creatures that live here and the ones that want to downplay the immense danger. I prefer the latter but my driving instructor was unfortunately the former.
- >4. If you see a caterpillar while you are here, do not touch it. It is not friendly. It will sting you!
- >5. Thought I saw a funnel web our second day here. I screamed for Mike and held Kenna and Chaylee tightly. (Now imagine a Western movie score playing in the background). Mike comes out of the bedroom carrying a drinking glass, a Bill Bryson book, insect repelling incense and wearing nothing but underwear and work shoes. He was armed, dangerous, and ready to send that spider from hell back to his place of origin. It turned out to be nothing but a giant cockroach. At least Mike was ready for him. He is a man that will fight for my honor. He is the hero, I’ve been dreaming of.
- >6. We have yet to purchase an automobile so we currently get about via bus, train or by foot. I generally push the pram (stroller) all over town in lieu of negotiating the bus. You all will be happy to know that my thunder thighs are trimming up nicely. I have been downgraded from a category 5 to a category 3. Hoping to become a tropical storm by the time we leave.
- >7. Kenna has made many little Aussie friends and has been trying out a new pronunciation of tomato (soft a sound). I have joined a playgroup down the street and have met some very nice mommas. We have tea from time to time.
Quick poll: When, if ever, should I introduce them to my rapping skills? How will I know when they are ready?
Phrase of the Day: “Stone the flaming crow!” Translation: You’re kidding me!
Word of the day: Icebox
Translation: Popsicle
Love to you all. You bring meaning to my life. You’re the inspiration…
G’day
Heather
Story Time With Heather Pasley 