...except for a trip to EUROPE!! Weee!
Who says weee anyway?
Germany is our base where we still stay with my buddy ol pal and her husband in Ulm. In the middle of our trip we take off to London and Paris to see the sights, scale the side of the Eiffel, beat up on the fluffy hat man at Buckingham etc.
If I'm not on here again for a little while, we leave on Tuesday the 24th and back in the early morn of Friday the 17th, April. Darren has a gig that night, eeek!
Well au revoir for now, enjoy your work, house cleaning or whatever it is you do, I on the other hand will be high flying it over to the other side!
Did I mention that Noah has taken to vocalising very loudly, experimenting with his voicebox, all in time for our 25 hour flight...thank goodness 3 hours of that will be spent in Abu Dhabi airport, our stopover.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
She's the same as me!
www.baconismyenemy.com
If I didn't know any better, I would've thought we were twins even though we look completely different to each other. Giyen blogs her journey with weight battles and depression, both of which have become almost like old friends in her life as have they have in mine. No longer something to fight off but to just love, learn about and deal with.
I often talk to or hear people describing depression and it is like in the movies when you see one of those silly women beating up a mans chest, taking out her anger and sadness on him whilst he grips her arms with such strength that she eventually wears down and relents at which point, he takes her into his arms. I feel like I was once in repeat mode, pounding away and hating my weight and depression, wanting it to just go so I could be 'normal'. At some point though, I pressed play and relented, let myself feel and breathe and just be. Learn it, love it, live it should be my motto! Best thing I ever did, life is a tonne easier these days.
If I didn't know any better, I would've thought we were twins even though we look completely different to each other. Giyen blogs her journey with weight battles and depression, both of which have become almost like old friends in her life as have they have in mine. No longer something to fight off but to just love, learn about and deal with.
I often talk to or hear people describing depression and it is like in the movies when you see one of those silly women beating up a mans chest, taking out her anger and sadness on him whilst he grips her arms with such strength that she eventually wears down and relents at which point, he takes her into his arms. I feel like I was once in repeat mode, pounding away and hating my weight and depression, wanting it to just go so I could be 'normal'. At some point though, I pressed play and relented, let myself feel and breathe and just be. Learn it, love it, live it should be my motto! Best thing I ever did, life is a tonne easier these days.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Sicker than a sick sick
Ok not that sick but feeling pretty shoddy, snuffly nose, sore throat and sore noggin. Adrian was hit with a 24hr bug on Friday which was promptly ended on Saturday with a visit to MY ensuite! I mean we had guests and all but seriously dude, my bathroom?! Good thing is he is all better now and was in fact able to play his first soccer game of the season that afternoon with his Griffith grandparents in tow.
Ok so you are being prewarned, don't say I didn't tell you! There are really two meanings to this post title.. Gross baby story ahead...
So Thursday morning baby and I are having a lovely chat on the lounge together with him sitting on my lap...you see where I'm going with this yet?
I hear the familiar rumblings I have come to know so well and lift him quickly into a standing position. Sometimes that stuff has nowhere else to go but up and out you see so I like to take precautions. Problem is I was obviously too late as I look down and see a small sample on my lap. I turn him around to inspect the back of his nappy. Houston, we have a problem! Not only has he managed to cover half his back but what I thought was a small sample was in fact a reasonable sized pool which must have sprung a leak as I feel a dampness easing it's way down between my legs, heading for the couch below. (Thank goodness it's leather!)
Panic hits as I frantically search for the best way to handle this dire situation. Reason sets in and I lie baby tummy down on the couch whilst I very carefully peel off my fishermans pants (recommended for this very situation as things could have been much more catastrophical without the pooling factor). It is indeed very tricky doing this mindful that there is carpet below me and the blinds are all up for the world to see my juggling act. I manage successfully and carry baby upstairs for his inevitable bath.
The phone rings whilst I am undressing him on my bed. He is on a folded over cloth nappy but nethertheless he is a wriggling pooey mess. I answer the phone. I know, stupid. It's Adrian's principal and she proceeds to explain that Adrian will not need an exemption form to go overseas as our trip runs into the school holidays and the time we will be away is under the 15 days requiring the form, blah blah blah.. I almost chuckle to myself as I wonder what she would think if she knew I was walking around half dressed with underpants wet with baby poo ( yes, it went that far!)
I undress baby after hanging up and carry him to the bath and just as I'm about to put him in, I feel a warm trickle work it's way down my chest, down my belly to the floor below. He's weeing! "You've got to be kidding me!!", I shreak which turns to laughter as I see him light up with delight at my squeals. Ratbag! With nowhere else to go and with a sudden trigger urge to use the loo myself, I lie him down on the bath mat and watch helplessly as he rolls onto the cold tiles, smiling madly obviously relishing the fact that I can't do anything or we may just end up with a much messier situation.
Finally I have him bathed and carry him all towelled up to the bed only to hear the doorbell ring. Crap! It's the courier guy, I get some ridiculous notion in my head that I can leave baby undressed on his towel, throw something over my head , run downstairs and accept the delivery thinking that the husband will pitch a fit if he knows I ignored it. I mean it's the power supply for his beloved 'Frau Mac'. Reason once again sets in as I survey the situation with naked baby ready to take aim at any given time and I am standing there still half dressed with baby muck all over me. Uh yeah, lets be smart eh, Rch? I begin to dress him whilst shushing his cooing so as not to hear the incessant ringing of the doorbell when the guy realises there is indeed someone home.
I step into the shower and wash like the water may be cut by the water board any second as I listen to the growing cries of my sweet little angel who no longer wants to be entertained by his cradle mobile.
Darren often says they come in cute packages so you won't leave them at the hospital, lucky Noah is so darn cute.
Ok so you are being prewarned, don't say I didn't tell you! There are really two meanings to this post title.. Gross baby story ahead...
So Thursday morning baby and I are having a lovely chat on the lounge together with him sitting on my lap...you see where I'm going with this yet?
I hear the familiar rumblings I have come to know so well and lift him quickly into a standing position. Sometimes that stuff has nowhere else to go but up and out you see so I like to take precautions. Problem is I was obviously too late as I look down and see a small sample on my lap. I turn him around to inspect the back of his nappy. Houston, we have a problem! Not only has he managed to cover half his back but what I thought was a small sample was in fact a reasonable sized pool which must have sprung a leak as I feel a dampness easing it's way down between my legs, heading for the couch below. (Thank goodness it's leather!)
Panic hits as I frantically search for the best way to handle this dire situation. Reason sets in and I lie baby tummy down on the couch whilst I very carefully peel off my fishermans pants (recommended for this very situation as things could have been much more catastrophical without the pooling factor). It is indeed very tricky doing this mindful that there is carpet below me and the blinds are all up for the world to see my juggling act. I manage successfully and carry baby upstairs for his inevitable bath.
The phone rings whilst I am undressing him on my bed. He is on a folded over cloth nappy but nethertheless he is a wriggling pooey mess. I answer the phone. I know, stupid. It's Adrian's principal and she proceeds to explain that Adrian will not need an exemption form to go overseas as our trip runs into the school holidays and the time we will be away is under the 15 days requiring the form, blah blah blah.. I almost chuckle to myself as I wonder what she would think if she knew I was walking around half dressed with underpants wet with baby poo ( yes, it went that far!)
I undress baby after hanging up and carry him to the bath and just as I'm about to put him in, I feel a warm trickle work it's way down my chest, down my belly to the floor below. He's weeing! "You've got to be kidding me!!", I shreak which turns to laughter as I see him light up with delight at my squeals. Ratbag! With nowhere else to go and with a sudden trigger urge to use the loo myself, I lie him down on the bath mat and watch helplessly as he rolls onto the cold tiles, smiling madly obviously relishing the fact that I can't do anything or we may just end up with a much messier situation.
Finally I have him bathed and carry him all towelled up to the bed only to hear the doorbell ring. Crap! It's the courier guy, I get some ridiculous notion in my head that I can leave baby undressed on his towel, throw something over my head , run downstairs and accept the delivery thinking that the husband will pitch a fit if he knows I ignored it. I mean it's the power supply for his beloved 'Frau Mac'. Reason once again sets in as I survey the situation with naked baby ready to take aim at any given time and I am standing there still half dressed with baby muck all over me. Uh yeah, lets be smart eh, Rch? I begin to dress him whilst shushing his cooing so as not to hear the incessant ringing of the doorbell when the guy realises there is indeed someone home.
I step into the shower and wash like the water may be cut by the water board any second as I listen to the growing cries of my sweet little angel who no longer wants to be entertained by his cradle mobile.
Darren often says they come in cute packages so you won't leave them at the hospital, lucky Noah is so darn cute.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Cinnamon Jam Drops
Mum had an afternnoon tea with the fantastic women from her church to celebrate her 50th last weekend. The guests were asked to bring a plate of food so I thought this was the perfect opportunity to make the jam drops as requested by nagging fellow blogger/ friend, Chilli Walter.
Source: An old Marie Claire cookbook, Food + Drink
Cinnamon Jam Drops
Yes, those spaces are there for a reason..they smelt literally irresistable just out of the oven
3/4 cup self raising flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup rice flour
75 grams unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup sugar
1 egg beaten
berry jam ( I used 2 types of raspberry)
Preheat the oven to 180℃. Sift together the cinnamon, flour and rice flour. In another bowl, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, then gradually add the egg, beating well. Fold into the sifted ingredients until just combined. Roll a teaspoon of the batter into a ball and place on a baking tray lined with baking paper. Repeat with the remaining mixture. Press a deep indent into the centre of each ball and fill with a little berry jam. Bake for 8-10 minutes, or until golden. Makes 36.
A good quality rich and seedy jam is ideal I found and the fresh cinnamon I picked up from my local fruit market gave it a scrumptious tastey taste! They did, however crack a little so I'll have to see how to perfect that with my next batch.
Now to twist Nanna's arm for the fork biscuits..
Source: An old Marie Claire cookbook, Food + Drink
Cinnamon Jam Drops
Yes, those spaces are there for a reason..they smelt literally irresistable just out of the oven3/4 cup self raising flour
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 cup rice flour
75 grams unsalted butter, softened
1/3 cup sugar
1 egg beaten
berry jam ( I used 2 types of raspberry)
Preheat the oven to 180℃. Sift together the cinnamon, flour and rice flour. In another bowl, cream the butter and sugar until light and fluffy, then gradually add the egg, beating well. Fold into the sifted ingredients until just combined. Roll a teaspoon of the batter into a ball and place on a baking tray lined with baking paper. Repeat with the remaining mixture. Press a deep indent into the centre of each ball and fill with a little berry jam. Bake for 8-10 minutes, or until golden. Makes 36.
A good quality rich and seedy jam is ideal I found and the fresh cinnamon I picked up from my local fruit market gave it a scrumptious tastey taste! They did, however crack a little so I'll have to see how to perfect that with my next batch.
Now to twist Nanna's arm for the fork biscuits..
Saturday, March 7, 2009
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