Long overdue

Wow... it has been a long time since I touched this poor neglected blog! I'm not making an excuse but so much has happened over the last nine months.

In amongst the usual craziness that comes with work and three children, I ran myself a bit thin. And... I started to doubt myself as a mother. I really got myself into a place where I started to doubt my ability to cope, to judge, to understand my own children.

I felt something was wrong with my youngest but listened to everyone who told me, "He's fine. He'll talk when he's ready." I started going to seminars on autism when people told me that his reluctance to talk may be behavioural. But I couldn't quiet this small voice in my heart that told me what I knew.

The signs were there. Not responding to his name. Communicating with his hands and with a series of grunts. Slow reaction time. Siblings who just stopped talking to him. Thank God for a GP who didn't treat me like a hysterical mother and who sent me for another hearing test - this time one that used technology to measure hearing rather than the behavioural tests I was sure the Small Boy was fluking.

I knew it. I knew it. Now I was mad at myself for not making more noise, for not making someone listen to the truth I already knew. My son was deaf.

I saw was because when we were told (two and a half years into his little life) that he was hearing practically nothing, a crazy medical machine was put in action. Suddenly, after being told on a Tuesday that he was impaired, we were booked in for a Thursday exploratory op with surgeon I'd just met in the hospital where every elderly family member seemed to go at the end. At end of term, no less. And with Miss Piggy's birthday on the Wednesday.

I felt like I was being sucked into a tornado - the very same people who told me his mutism was selective were now saying there was a very real and medical reason for his not talking. I started worrying about the affects of anaesthetic, of staph infections, of doctor error. I started trying to convince myself it wasn't his ears. I cried and I cried and I howled hysterically. I rang our GP at home to ask a billion questions. But in the end, what choice did I have? I knew they were right. I'd known before they'd known.

So... my Small Boy is no longer deaf. Thanks to the miracle of modern medicine we have a temporary 'fix' that means he now hears in excess of 95% of the world around him. We have spent the last few months teaching him about the hearing world (along with dealing with floods and tornados, but that's another story). Is anyone out there interested in hearing about our journey? Is there anyone out there with tips on teaching a now three year old to talk? Has anyone got a similar story to share?

I'm doing OK - really I am! I'm feeling positive about my Small Boy and his ability to cope in the big world. He's learned that people talk with their mouths open, that hand dryers (despite their ugly growling sound) won't hurt you and that saying, "Maa," is bound to make his mother cry.

So far to go... yet we've come so far already. Thank you for listening :)

Italian Beef Hotpot

I have been using my slow cooker a bit lately. With everything else that's been going on here (a deluge of paper from work, colds and flu, just the general busy-ness that comes with having three children), easy, cheap and food that's ready when I get home has been more than appealing!

Italian Beef Hotpot (serves 4... at least)

Ingredients:
500g diced steak
6 mushrooms, sliced
2 carrots, sliced
2 potatoes
1.5 cups stock
1 tin tomatoes
1 cup red wine
3 tablespoons tapioca
Salt/Pepper to taste
Herbs to taste (eg mixed Italian herbs)

Method:
Put all ingredients into a slow cooker
Cook on low for 8 hours
Serve with mash/bread/fettucine

Some optional extras:
Add risoni after 6/7 hours for a thicker stew
Add additional veges as required
Add cream before serving
(my favourite) add a half teaspoon of curry powder for additional flavour

I love it! Such a lovely pick me up after a long day.

Terrible mother?

I'm not very good at reminding the tooth fairy to leave money, so we've come to an agreement that he*/she will only visit once my children have left a little note. That guarantees I've got at least 48 hours to get my act together!!!

Last week, Miss Piggy's front teeth fell out. Hubby and I were up late trying to work out how to... ahem.. contact the tooth fairy when we realised that in all the haste of writing a letter, our little princess had inadvertently literally lost her teeth!

We searched high and low through her bed, under pillows and stuffed animals, under the bed amongst all the weird and wonderful things that lurk there. Under all the clothing on her floor. Under the mess of hair stuff on her desk.

No joy.

And the realisation that our little princess is as untidy as her mother. Well... I guess we don't call her Miss Piggy for nothing.

So here's what the tooth fairy ended up leaving her:

The following morning in my classroom, when the tale was told (joyously, I might add, by Mr Z) I copped a lot of scathing looks from my students who obviously think the tooth fairy is a little bit of a bitch harsh. Harsh but fair, I prefer to think.

I certainly got lots of messages of congratulation support from FB friends! And a few denouncing the fairy as a 'meanie'.

Hmmm... I'm conflicted. Pure genius..? or pure evil..?!

_______________________________________

* Having seen The Rock in Disney's The Tooth Fairy, my children are absolutely convinced that Dwayne has our house on his route. They've asked for him by name in their notes!

Tip: colouring fondant red

I love working with fondant when it comes to making my kids' cakes. It's kind of like year nine art class all over again, and despite my reluctance to start a new project, I always come away feeling ok about my efforts as a mummy who decorates!

Red fondant is a tricky one, though. Where we live it has to be ordered and sent and as I am a last minute kind of girl, who have birth to similarly last minute kind of children (I want a train cake...no - Yoda... hang on, I think I want a red ninja cake... or...) I just never get my act together in time to do anything as grown up as ordering ahead. Plus, I am a Scrooge and like to keep things cheap and cheerful where possible.

So... having made both Mater Truck and a Red Power Ranger Samurai cake this year, I thought I'd share my secret to 'el cheapo' red fondant icing.

Paint it.

As in with a paint brush.

Easy, isn't it? I use a watercolour brush and red food colouring and have found that two quick coats gives a beautiful sheen - and limits the amount of red colouring your little munchkins will ingest (not a fan of all those E numbers or hyper kids).

Summer dress - mini tutorial

I love simple clothes for home. It is just so hot here most of the year, it's nice to feel comfortable.

I found an Espirit quilt cover at Dimmeys a few months ago and just loved the colour combos it had. I also liked that the design was assymetrical - I thought it had potential for an interesting beach dress.

I am not a great sewer and I also know that I get bored if a project takes too long... so this was a make-in-an-afternoon job. Enjoy the pictures!

 I cut a rectangle that had the width I wanted around the legs (nice and open enough to walk comfortably, approx. double my waist measurement)

 Shirred the waist - three rows for comfort

Sew the edges together and turn inside out.

Bias bind the arm holes and neckline.

RESULT: A nice, relaxed shoulder V-neck dress :)

Glad I saved the orange and red parts of the quilt though, while this microfibre weave feels soft on the skin, it is super sweaty to wear!!!

Linking up with Flaming Toes Think Pink Sundays :)

Baby Shows..? Yay or Nay?

You know how I said here and here that sometimes I regret starting things with my first, knowing I'll have to repeat them twice more with the other kids? Like the one-of-a-kind birthday cakes that represent what they're 'into' at the time... or the full-sized quilts for their beds (still got one to go there)... taping the entire Kindy Christmas concert for posterity...

I am just the kind of person who likes to be even-handed with my kids. I know there are times when they have to accept that life isn't fair, but I need them to know that I love them all the same. I like to think of the special things I do for them as evidence of my love. I admit, I get sentimental and a little bit hung-up on 'stuff'. I think losing a parent early makes you want to leave something behind for your kids. As I tuck them under the blankets that I've made, I tell them that each is a hug that mummy leaves with them when she can't be there. The cakes are to prove that I love them enough to sacrifice time for them in the kitchen (everyone knows how I hate to cook). Even though those things take time (eons of time, three times over) I take great pleasure in knowing that one day they'll look back and think 'my mum did that for me'.

My mum always made stuff for us. My dad was often busy with his own projects, but I remember he once entered me into a Agricultural Showgirl Contest. I felt so happy that he thought I was pretty enough and dignified enough to enter. It was one of the moments of my teenage years where I felt I had pleased my dad just by being me - and that I had earned his acceptance and his praise.

I hasten to add that despite this euphoria I also felt embarrassed and worried that everyone at school would find out... I was downright mortified when a boy in the year ahead of me asked me for some lined paper, "C'mon, it's the least you can do, Miss Mt Barker. Aren't you supposed to help the community?" haha. Sooo not funny at the time.

So the thing I struggled with the most is the whole Baby Show fiasco. I wanted to show my kids I thought they were special and unique and amazing too - but somehow it didn't feel right. Don't get me wrong, these aren't those OTT pageants you see on telly - just kids dressed up in their Sunday best, no make up or performing involved. Just a chat with the nice lady and off you go.

The first show I went to, I was just so excited to show off my gorgeous little guy - he was all chubby cheeked, blue-eyed smiles at the time (he's since grown into a gangly, green-eyed, lightsabre wielding jedi). And guess what. He won! My Z is one of those kids who will win you over with his enthusiasm and he came home with the BIG TROPHY. So exciting!

So the next time I went to one, I dressed my piggy-tailed, blue-eyed princess in my favourite little dress (black and white pinafore, I hadn't given into the monster that was pink at that stage) and took my chubby little two year old along to watch. At the door, the lady was charmed by my little man and convinced me to enter him as well - it WAS for charity after all. Despite the fact he was dressed fairly casually, I caved and handed over my ten bucks. Big mistake. Of course my wide-eyed, enthusiastic little boy came home again with the BIG TROPHY and my little princess came home empty handed. I was devastated but consoled myself with the fact that she couldn't possibly be old enough to understand that she hadn't been picked as the prettiest/best dressed/nicest eyes/blah blah blah...

However... kids are kids. Sigh. Mr Z *loved* playing with his trophies and soon enough Miss Piggy started to get upset that she didn't have one. So last year, we made a last-ditch effort to win her a trophy. I dressed her in a gorgeous red dress with a white crocheted cardi, combed her lovely wavy hair and put a skinny side-braid across the top of her head. She looked like a fairy princess - very far removed from the girl who usually gets told she looks like she's been pulled through a bush backwards at the end of each day!

And guess what? She got shy. She couldn't speak to the judges, she just stared at all the other pretty girls around her and looked scared. I felt sick. How could I do this to her at such a young age? Make her feel so inferior and worried and wonder if she was cute enough. It was absolutely awful. We went shopping and I bought her ice-cream to make up for the ordeal I had put her through. I told her that she was gorgeous and that she was the nicest girl I knew. I prayed that I hadn't hurt her fragile little ego.

And when we went back to hear the verdict they announced the boys first. This time her blue-eyed, blonde haired LITTLE brother had won the grand champion trophy. Along with three smaller ones.

I felt even sicker. Should I leave? Should I stay? I didn't know WHAT to do.

The girl's trophies were lined up to be announced. She squeezed my hand tight and I could feel her straining to hear her name. It broke my heart.

But... a miracle happened! Nicest eyes... my Miss Piggy! They loved her beautiful round eyes that had changed from a bright blue to a deep green the Summer before. She was so proud as she marched up to the stage to collect her trophy. I've never seen her hold ANYTHING so tight. I prayed a quick thanks before rushing to congratulate her.

And then I vowed never to go to a baby show again.

Don't get me wrong, they are a FANTASTIC fundraiser for all sorts of charities. They are a nice morning out with other mums (usually great cakes too). They are just not for me!

How do you feel about baby shows?

Handmade dolls

I finally caved and bought a great doll-making pattern. I usually enjoy the challenge of working out how to make things on my own - like my mermaid pattern or my babushka dolls but this time I just couldn't get the result that I wanted.

My dear friend Jo and I sat down a couple of afternoons in the holidays and cut and sewed some dolls for our daughters. It was really fun, and the pattern from Dolls and Daydreams was super easy to follow.

This doll was mad for a first birthday with a ladybird theme. I hope she likes it! You can definitely buy a doll a lot cheaper than making one, but I enjoy the process of creating and gifting a one-of-a-kind item to someone special (especially someone who has two older sisters and loads of toys at her disposal).

I can't recommend these patterns enough - even for the beginner sew-er. They are simple, have full colour instructions and they arrive via email very quickly.