The school couldn’t be more different in it’s approach than my own primary school experience – no nuns wafting around in Mount Eden I can tell you.  It’s a great school and the kids all seem sweeties so far.  There are some very “interesting” mums that I’m tempted to dish the dirt on at a later date.  

The teacher is so relaxed that she bounded in wearing a wonderwoman 70s-style faded t-shirt and announced “just call me Luz” (sorry, Liz).  She then proceeded to say “oh it’s a little warm, I know let’s all kick off our shoes for the day”.  Cute? Yes. A hit with the kids? Of course. A hit with me? Well let’s just say Liz wasn’t having to pick out splinters after bath-time was she….I wear my super woman logo on the inside, bro.

I’m heading home to London in March for a month and am so happy at the thought of daytime company from ADULTS – my sisters and Mum!  My Grandma also spent her motherhood years away from her family and was also only able to see them once a year – she would always say to me when I came home “I bet you feel better now you’re back with your people”, and now I know what she meant.  Even if your family are around the corner to help you this article will make you feel better; that I promise!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/harvey-karp/parenting-support_b_1212911.html?ref=global-motherhood#es_share_ended

- Santa didn’t ask me what I wanted for my present…mind you it took him an eternity to get a sensible response from the kids and he looked a little bored by Dec 22nd so I gave him a break;

- Piles of presents for the kids ‘v’ a neat compact pile (of awesome gifts of course) for me;

- Given the gift of 20 minutes without the kids in a mall my sale shopping resulted in a pile of new clothes for the kids and a pair of slippers and a new dustbuster vacuum cleaner pour moi, that’s just sad.

My favourite one is a festive one as instead of “Father Christmas” they refer to the bearded one as “Farmer Christmas“.  And, as this cracker only comes out once a year, I’ve not corrected them on it for 3 years, it’s too cute!  

It’s all the better since we’ve been living in NZ which is farming central (hardly surprising seeing as approx. 2/3 of all exports are from the agricultural industry). Even NZ’s nationwide department store is called FARMERS (and looking at their clothes you realise why everyone outside of certain parts of Auckland looks like a farmer’s wife). Ho Ho Ho.

I was reminiscing today with Christian that Hong Kong ex-pats on the whole: look great (plenty of time to shop and get to the gym when one has delegated the kids to the helper); smell great (because they don’t have to shower in less than one minute (I actually had to bring Cara into the bathroom in her bouncy chair this morning to protect her from her enthusiastic big sister); are well-groomed (the greasy hair scraped back look will never come into fashion in Discovery Bay that’s for sure); and have clean and tidy houses (except on Sunday’s when it’s the maid’s day off – simple solution for most people is to get a take-out on a Sunday!).  I of course then put Christian on the spot and asked if I still looked like I did in Hong Kong? “Of course you do darling, no shit wait a minute I mean you look better” – yeah right, but I’ll take it anyway!

Around 6th day – massive hormonal crash and the reality of waking up 3 times a night sets in

Around 6th week – I’ve just come out of this and think it is hardcore.  Mums have to battle the cumulative effects of ongoing sleep deprivation coupled with the disappearance of the happy hormones we receive in the beginning. It’s a bloody slog and also the time when people around you assume you are over the worst of it. Baby doesn’t always settle well during the day and all of the books claim “soon your child will sleep through” – I want to wring the neck of most authors right now.

Around 6th month –  OMG I am so tired but it’s all about to get a lot easier, or that’s what I keep telling myself

The whole nation has gone mad and I wonder if they were to put this much energy into other matters as a collective what they might have achieved?

As we drove back from Taupo this week almost every farm has placed tyres in their fields with “Go Blacks”, “Go ABs” – if I didn’t know better I’d think it was either a positive racism movement or a fitness mad nation.  Even the billboards for the forthcoming elections are plugging the All Blacks “Vote National, Go All Blacks” – can you imagine if the conservatives took that approach in the UK!

The newspapers have been unbearable.  The day after the Kiwis won the semi finals they published a guide on how to cope with the stress of preparing oneself for a world cup final. Advise included “get a good night sleep on Saturday night”; “be humble and not too cocky, especially around Australians” and “make sure you get enough BBQ food in for the big night”.  The fact that the Renu had created the worst oil spill in the country’s history didn’t warrant coverage until page 11 – yes page ELEVEN.  International news that day was pushed back to page 14, meaning that the Rugby coverage was pages 1-10!  Today’s newspaper pushed my limit though – as you’ll see from the picture they have listed the name of every what?  Every person who served in the wars? Every person who gave their life for the country? Certainly looks like it but in fact it is every rugby player to have played in a world cup.

For me the end of the world cup is going to at least free up the TV for alternative viewings for my 1030pm dreamfeed – Cara has grown up in the last 8 weeks learning not to jump during her feeds whilst her Dad screams out “Forward”, “Bloody Hell Ref”, “Filthy Aussies” and much worse I shan’t mention here.

Good luck All Blacks!

This is one of my favourite Mad Men moments, and one I’m trying to channel as booting the kids out of sight is a coping strategy for being stuck on the couch feeding Cara every 2.5 hours. Encouraging independent play and self-entertainment is all well and good but there is one mighty mess to clean at the end of the day and I’m too tired to do it!  In 3 months I’m going to clean up 90 days worth of toys in one hit – until then it can wait.

The kids seem to enjoy supporting two teams, the All Blacks and England, although I suspect they like the Haka more than singing “sweet chariot”…judge for yourself:

Lachlan’s Haka: <a title=”Lachlan’s Haka” href=”http://www.facebook.com/v/10150275822916765” target=”_blank”><object width=”400″ height=”300″ ><param name=”allowfullscreen” value=”true” /><param name=”movie” value=”http://www.facebook.com/v/10150275822916765″ />http://www.facebook.com/v/10150275822916765</object>

Evie’s Haka: <a title=”Evie’s sweet chariot dance” href=”http://www.facebook.com/v/10150275860846765” target=”_blank”><object width=”0″ height=”0″ ><param name=”allowfullscreen” value=”true” /><param name=”movie” value=”http://www.facebook.com/v/10150275860846765″ />http://www.facebook.com/v/10150275860846765</object>

Cara day one

I am extremely happy to announce that Cara Marie May was born on 28th August.  She was a biggun (4315g / 9lb8oz) who arrived early and at speed.  At 9pm I was at a friend’s cocktail party and felt uncomfortable – by 0045 she was in the world, with no time for drugs, ouch!

So my last 9 months of testing out the Old Wives Tales for gender prediction are clearly all rubbish!  Everything was pointing to a boy, and this one is all girl.

I should have just turned to the Wikipedia oracle who quite correctly says “Most old wives’ tales are false and are used to discourage unwanted behavior, usually in children, or for folk cures for ailments ranging from a toothache to dysentery. Among the few tales with grains of truth, the veracity is likely coincidental.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Old_wives’_tale