I do advice well.  I am a good listener.  I tend to understand people, and I am great at getting to the deeper issue, instead of hearing what’s on the surface, and then giving good advice that gets followed.    I just gave some advice to an online poster, who was bemoaning the clutter of craft items that she doesn’t exactly enjoy doing, but none-the-less feel obligated to hold onto, just in case.  My advice focussed on how clinging to a craft because you are good at it, or you feel obligated, regardless of how little you enjoy it, tends to drag you down emotionally, and stunts your emotional journey.

I give a great baby gift.  Usually its a parcel of nappies, bibs, burp cloths, clothes, and nursing pads…… a multitude of little things that I choose to make because they are useful as well as cute.

But …. every time I make a baby romper, or some nappies ….. there is that little stab of pain, right there in my heart, where my daughter belongs.  Where all my dreamt-of babies belong.  I can’t have any more, and every time I make these things, my heart aches all over again.

I have four preggy friends to sew for this year, and then its over.  I don’t need to make baby things any more, so I think I will stop. Just for once, I think I might listen to my own advice.

Happy belated birthday Isabeau …. mummy misses you.

I read this elsewhere, and I just thought it was so brilliant, I had to share.

Xmas is a time of excess and overspending, and no matter how hard you try, its so easy to go overboard.  After a childhood of poverty and missing out, I especially find it difficult to reign in my need to make the time just that little bit more special.  But the reality is, children are so indulged anyway, that xmas doesn’t need to be overloaded with presents.  So to this great motto.  I intend to follow this myself, for the coming xmas.

The 4 present motto
Something they want,  Something they need,
Something to wear and Something to read.

My children already receive books as part of their gifts every year,  but I think having a guide will help me to focus, especially as they are getting older, and as such, just don’t need toys and rubbish anymore.

Nathan has home economics as his elective this term, and one of his assessments is to prepare a meal for the family at home. This includes, planning, sourcing recipes, shopping, preparing, cooking, serving and then cleaning up. It has been a very trying weekend. He is enthusiastic enough, but like most teen boys, unobservant. Still, we survived, and the kitchen is clean again, so that is good. Here is a montage of the weekend.

Saturday ……. he made icecream …. this was something he really wanted to do, but it required digging the icecream maker out of the deep freeze. He seems to have the directions ok, but for some reason it just wasn’t churning as expected. This is the way we discovered that the freezer in the shed is finally dying. The bowl wasn’t cold enough. We refrigerated the mix, and tried again Sunday morning, and that worked well.

Now …… to start the spaghetti sauce ……. This got to simmer of just over 2 hours, till it was rich and thick.

Hubby supervising the garlic bread making, while I took a break and went out.

He set the table, and filled the pot with water to cook the pasta.

Then it was time to dish out the meal, and then dessert.

Then washing up …… and wiping down the counter.

I think this is the earliest on a Sunday night that my kitchen has been clean. He is writing his evaluation now, so at least he has one assignment finished on time.

So again I am participating in this week’s meme, along with Punky & Me.

Where I sleep

I didn’t want to post a shot of my bed. That would mean

1. I would have to make it,

and 2. It would need to be interesting …. which it isn’t.

But then I thought about what it is about being in bed that makes me feel good (shush you, not that). My best moments are always with my children, and they have all shared my bed. Sometimes good …. I have a great photo of me, in all my permed glory, sleeping with my firstborn daughter when she was just a week or so old. Some not so great …. having a morning cuddle with my boy, reaching to brush his hair back, to discover that the only reason the nits haven’t made off with his hair, is that its anchored to his scalp. I don’t have a photo of me with Isabeau, but she slept with me, all the same, and I have that memory. My kids always thought that sleeping with me was great, but sleeping with (or even just lying on) Dad …. now that was a real treat. Naomi was one a few days old when she had her first sleep on Dad’s chest, but like the shot with me, it was pre-digital, and so the photo languishes in a photo album somewhere.

So here are a couple of younger photos.

Sometimes, even if the motor racing is boring, its worth it for the daddy cuddle

Legs akimbo ….. my weedy tall children.

Just for the record, those tiny babies are now both over 170cm tall, and the male child possesses an astonishingly deep voice. How dare these children grow up ….. I didn’t say they could.