This Week...21st May, 2012

...There has been knitting...


(Maxi dress- Elena Nodel)


(Paint Me a Sweater- Elena Nodel)

...There has been embroidery and there has been sewing...


(Red Riding Hood- Urban Threads)


(Imke Hoodie- Farbenmix)

...There have been (pink and sparkly) party preparations...

...There have been exciting travel preparations...

(thinkprogress.org)


...There have been discussions with Mr Boozle about the 5 food groups.

He believes that they are (in no particular order):
 beef, lamb, chicken, fish and pork

(bacon being a condiment)...

(news.blogs.cnn.com)

...There has been another fishy death in the family
and a Staffy freaking out from balloons popping at parties...

...There has been a 5th birthday for the baby of the family,
an all-little-girl affair that was a lot pinker and a lot more glittery
(and a few octaves higher) than the previous all-boy parties that we have hosted
for her brothers.





..there was the reminder that 4 year old tantrums didn't just stop at midnight when someone turned 5...

...there was the trying-on of school uniforms
and a realisation of how close it is till our last born gets to try out her wings.
We know that she will soar but it is still bittersweet...

Big, scary words.

Yesterday I learnt some medical words that I didn't know,

in spite of my veterinary background.

I sat and listened as a specialist threw words like amblyopia

and intermittent exotropia at me.

Big, scary words that parents don't want to have to think about.

We consider ourselves blessed to have 3 healthy children.

Aside from the usual upset tummies, snotty noses and sneezes,

plus a few extras...

corneal ulcers due to a toothbrush in the eye,

corneal ulcers due to falling into a wet cement puddle,

corneal ulcers due to a foreign body,

corneal ulcers due to toddler's finger nails in daddy's eye

(yeah, pick the pattern)...

we haven't had too much to stress about.

The fractured skull from our 2 year old hitting his head

and the possible metal ball intestinal obstruction

have probably been our biggest blips on the radar to date.

(But here I am going to touch wood and not say the things that we haven't had to deal with

because I know that is just tempting fate)

So yesterday was a bit of a jolt.

The gist is that our youngest has a wandering eye

and has lost some of her vision in that eye.

When eyes wander in children,

apparently their brains decide that it is all too hard

and give up a bit on that eye.

The treatment plan is to give that eye a chance to lift its game

and get back to doing what it is meant to do

by giving the good eye a handicap (drops, patches etc)

Though her loss of vision isn't severe,

she is in the unlucky 15% of children that has had some sight loss with this condition

and we are now crossing our fingers and toes

that she isn't in the 15% of children who don't respond to treatment.

She was rather excited to think that she might have gotten to wear glasses,

with that naive enthusiasm that 4 year olds

can have about many, many things in life.

(Like flying in planes because they never, ever crash.
and like thinking that the precious 50c piece in her piggy bank is actually $50.)

Luckily at this stage she doesn't have her mummy's hideous rely-on-contact-lenses-or-glasses-24/7-

or-else-run-into-that-500-ton- meteorite-sitting-2-metres-in-front-of-you vision.

I was calm and matter of fact about the whole visit and its outcome

until I was lying in bed last night and start doing the parent thing.

The What If thing.

What if?

What if she doesn't recover her vision?

What if her vision gets worse?

I know as far as childhood illness or injury goes,

this is not as devastating nor as debilitating as most

and there is a more than good chance of recovery.

But it has made me think about those parents, the many friends and associates that I have,

in the real world and on-line,

who are dealing with difficulties each and every day.

Some minor; some more major; some life changing.
Some with no end in sight and no solutions.
Some that tear at a parent's heart.

Most just get on with it without complaint.

As a parent, you just do what you have to do.

You  are prepared to do whatever it takes to keep your precious little ones safe and well and happy.

When a hug and kiss wont do it, you take a deep breath, maybe have a little cry
and then you step up.

It's just the fundamental principal of being someone's mother or father.

We hope that the next few months will bring positive results.

But in the meantime,
I have had a timely reminder to know how lucky Mr Boozle and I are as parents
and to remember what an amazing capacity these little human beings
have to help us find our strength, our ability to commit whatever it takes to help them
and, of course, our unconditional love.

Sometimes, just sometimes, everything goes perfectly

...and you can't stop smiling when you realise
that the end result is just what you had hoped for.

I have had this yarn and this pattern set aside for over 6 months.
My favourite ever colourway
and a vintage style pattern.


I absolutely love it.

Ice Skating Cape (or skirt)
Cosette Cornelius-Bates

Last month...April 2012

(Not quite keeping up with my This Week posts...)

...there have been brisk mornings, sunny days, colourful falling leaves

and rapidly cooling afternoons,

reminding me why Autumn is one of my favourite times of year.

...I was happy to see my walking man after a long absence.

(Cherry Leaf scarf - Mary Ann Stephens)

...I have knitted and sewed

and even turned on my embroidery machine after more than a year.

 I am finally making things for my long-neglected boys.

(Little Hoodlum- Julia Stanfield)

...I found out that there is more salt in most takeaway pizzas

than in sea water.

(As a 20-something year old Uni student, I wouldn't have given a pfaff

but as a 43 year old mother of three,

I am horrified)

...we went to see a very cool Lego exhibit.

Art of Brick- Nathan Sawaya

The adolescent sized T rex took a whole summer and 80 000 Lego bricks to build.

Very. Very. Cool.

...my newly sewn up take out knitting bag has been dubbed The Tardis.

I can fit anything in there.

(Sew Liberated Bohemian Carpet bag)

...I had gastro, a severe and lingering fight with an upper respiratory infection

and then was laid up with a sore back.

Here's hoping that May is a healthier month.

...I finished watching all the eps from the modern Dr Who era on ABC2,

only to find that they immediately started playing them all again.

I am a big fan but I really need that 4 hours a week back.

...I had a fringe cut in. Mr Boozle informs me that I look years younger.

It's a shame that a painless, free 1 minute snip can't make other body parts look and feel younger.

(Norie- Gudrun Johnston)

...those cats lulled me into a false sense of security.

I thought that they actually spent their nights sleeping.

Apparently not.

Definition: Holiday Fail

noun

1. the act of one parent taking 3 children away for a 10 day

holiday to their grandparents

and have multiple cases of gastroenteritis for the first half of the holiday

and one severe case of an upper respiratory tract infection for the second half of the holiday.

2. any variation on this theme.

Related words:

regret, toilet paper, contagious, fever, chills,

exhaustion, thanks be to drugs, ear pain on planes,

where the heck is my husband?

Example of use:

Bloody hell. Sick kids. Sick parent. Really sick grandparents. That sucked.
That sure was a holiday fail if I ever saw one.

Footnote:

In the interests of trying to be a half glass full kind of gal,

I will say that I am glad that the kids seem to have been spared what I am currently fighting
(touch wood)

and  I am relieved that 2 plane flights with sore ears weren't a lot worse.

How sick am I, did I hear you ask?

I am so sick that I have been going to bed at 9 pm.
...don't think I have done that since I was 10 years old.

I am sooo sick that I can't drink coffee.
Yeah, I know. Like, caffeine withdrawal really helps with headaches. Not.

I am sooooo sick that I stopped knitting.
Speechless.

I am sooooooo sick that when a sympathetic husband

jokingly lamented the lack of homecoming nooky

due to my poor state of health,

I wanted to seize his testicles in my hands and crush them with whatever remaining strength I could muster.
He's just lucky that I was too weak to roll over to find them.

I am now armed with plenty of chicken noodle soup,

electronic babysitters, paracetamol and antibiotics

and my own bed

so am hoping for a quick recovery from here on in.

This week...7th April, 2012

...I didn't find a single live beastie

but I did find myself living in a very clean, very organised house.

Silver lining and all that.

...I said goodbye to my summer with David Tennant in Dr Who re-runs.

...I got my life back.

Just in time for school holidays.

...Mr Boozle and I celebrated our 17th wedding anniversary, oh, so quietly.

...my 8 year old asked me how someone could have a baby if they weren't married

and I wished that I could remember being so innocent.

...I explained to my 7 year old that no, the word sexy doesn't mean cool

and would he please stop using it

...and I consequently found myself trying not to explain what sexy actually does mean.

...I got to knit a little and I even started to

play with some yarn dyeing.

...I started to realise how much I will miss my daily dose of rainbows

when the little one graduates kindy in one more term.

(Knitting on Ravelry here)

This week...29th March 2012...7 days I will never get back

It has been 7 days since that discovery.

So for the past week,

I have been doing little more than washing, vacumning, cleaning, washing,
checking, washing, vacumning and vacumning some more.

I have been breathing, sleeping, dreaming carpet beetles.

They have consumed my time, my energy, my thoughts.

(Besides being passive-aggressive,

I have obsessive-compulsive tendencies

which tend to manifest at times like this)

The whole thing really serves me right.

As a stay at home mum, I have been slack in my domestic homework.

I have been slack in my yarn and fabric storage.

I have spend the past months sitting around feeling very humdrum
and haven't achieved much in the way of living.

So really I am grateful for these little shits.
They have put a bomb under me
and I am feeling fresh again.

OK so they have also driven me from the heights of euphoria when I felt like I had them under control

to the dark depths of depression and stress when I would find yet another one in yet another place.

In case you ever come up against these things,

you might like to be aware of the following.

You will find a single one in a face washer on a shelf

and so manically clean out the whole cupboard to find no other sign of them.

You will also clean out a whole cupboard

and be about to high five yourself

when there will be a little larvae grinning (Yes. I swear. Grinning.) at you from that last little garment

that you pull out.

The grin was wiped of its face- literally- once it was a smear on my fingernail, let me tell you.

I have found things that I have forgotten that I owned.

(In the case of the bag of G strings, that is not a bad  thing.

It has been quite some time since I have worn them,
it will be quite some time till I wear them again- think hell will freezing over-
and now at least I have the bravado to toss them.
Anyone else hoarding bags of underwear that they wore 20 years ago?)

I have discovered fabrics that I forgot that I had.

(and apparently nothing, not even a carpet beetle larva,

is willing to consume some of those artificial fabrics made back in the 60s or 70s.

To do so would be to risk death or at least severe constipation)

I have helped the companies
who make zip lock plastic bags, plastic storage tubs, cedar balls and Imperial Leather soap
(which helps stave off beetle infestations from your wool stash)
reach their monthly sales targets with ease.

Incalculable numbers of innocently by-standing black lint fluff have perished

in my goal to eradicate these beasties from my house.

Neighbours are no doubt choking on the cedar and lavendar scents emanating from the house at #5.

The worst is over but the fight will continue.
Vigilance will be required (and probably chemicals too)
but I am hopeful that the long term fall-out from this will be positive.

I feel more energetic and happier than I have in a long time.
I have been feeling oppressed and flat...
and now I don't.

So while you, my dear readers, might possibility be interested

in photos of me vacumning (in a G string or not)

or the clothes line full, full, full of washing

or little hairy beasties (or lint) on skirting boards,

I will assume that you would prefer to see my new squishy winter jumper

that I finished just before the proverbial hit the fan last week.

White Light- Veera Valimaki

I have caught the bug.

I am back.

I am enthusiastic,

motivated,

energetic,

positively champing at the bit to get my life organised,

to achieve,

to be adventurous.

After months of apathy and sluggishness,

***BAM***

I am inspired.

So what brought on this adrenalin surge?

A small thing really.

A really small thing.

A small, mobile, hairy thing.

A carpet beetle.

Or beetles.

Or more specifically, larvae.

(wanderinweeta.blogspot.com)

Might I say there is nothing like a vacumning knitter finding a teensy weensy hairy little beetle that eats yarn

to kick in that survival "fight or flight" reflex.

So I find myself dealing with the little critters,

checking the yarn stash.

cleaning, cleaning, cleaning,
washing, washing, washing,
vacumning, vacumning, vacumning,
more washing,

throwing out doses of cedar and lavendar (and I will admit a good spray of Mortein Fast Knockdown
when it is warranted) as I go,
extending to cleaning out-
the kids' toys, books, our clothes, the pantry...

Spring cleaning areas in the house untouched by civilisation since the Industrial Revolution...

jumping feet first into the "want to do" list

that I have ignored for a year or two...

planning what I am going to get done...

Who'd have thought that such a small, hairy critter
could delivery such a big kick up my butt?

I'm fired up.

And it feels good.

(weheartit.com)

(Nb It probably only feels this good because my yarn stash seems to be pretty much intact)

Forget the start of Autumn...

...it's the start of the birthday season for another year...

I got off lightly with the first.

The turning-seven year old wanted
1- a Mario theme (commercial junkie that he is)
so I decided either Boo or a goomba were going to be easy cakes
and
2- wanted two friends for a sleepover

(and only one ended up staying the night)

Sweeeeeeeeeeeet!

Happy birthday, my gorgeous Leo.

Next up, our first ever real girlie girl party with a legitimate list of little friends to invite,

not just family friends.

The turning-five year old is counting the days

and changing her mind every 5 minutes...

a pony party,...wait. A fairy party...

No, now I want a rainbow party...

Hold on...can I have a pony party?...

I'll keep you posted on that one..

I can pretty much guarantee you that it will be pink and twirly,

whatever the theme.

It will be interesting to see how the big brothers cope
with a bunch of pink, glittery girls (and associated girl germs)

running amok.

Changing Batteries 101

Ready?
Then let's begin.
First up...

1 THE BASIC BATTERY CHANGE

Snap or slide open the back of your remote control. Change the batteries. Replace the cover.

Skill level required: minimal.
Most challenging part is finding out where your kids have stashed the remote.

Now that you are feeling confident, let's move onto the next level.

2 THE AVERAGE BATTERY CHANGE

This will be very familiar to parents of young children who have toys.

Unscrew the back cover. Change the batteries. Replace the cover.

Skill level required:  Easy. Requires you to remember Lefty Loosie and Righty Tighty.
Then it is easy peasy.

It does, however,  require the willpower to know that the newly charged toy will be making repeated, constant, annoying noises for the immediate future.

Well done.

Feeling pretty good?

Let's move onto Advanced...
...and smite that confidence right out of you.

3 THE ADVANCED BATTERY CHANGE
(advanced being another word for impossible)

Yeah, well, apparently this would be an ipod.

The one that has a disclaimer that says changing the battery on your own will void warranty. The one where even the helpful bloke on the youtube tute pretty much says that unless you are a brain surgeon with experience in rocket science (and own a soldering iron) or a rocket scientist with experience in brain surgery (and own a soldering iron), steer clear.

Skill level required: Un-friggin-believable.

(I might say at this stage that my ipod seemed to have some weird fault and was well out of warranty and we were hoping that it was just the battery but it wasn't worth paying Apple...I mean, a service person good money to test that theory)

Hubby also had a disclaimer for me before he attempted it. Don't blame him if it all went to hell in a handbasket.

To cut a long story short, he got quite a long way before things started to go wrong.

He even managed to not lose the tiny, tiny spring that the video tute adamently recommended not losing.

(Well, he didn't lose it until he put it on his desk and then it bounced and hasn't been seen since)

Then bits that weren't meant to be bent were being bent and pieces that were meant to be separated were not being separated without brute force
and, well, that "hell in a handbasket" disclaimer suddenly came into its own.



Look closely at this above photograph.

The white square sitting just under the back casing is the battery.

Funnily enough, the battery is at the back of the ipod,
 and if you could just remove the back panel (as in level 1 or 2 shown above),
a University degree would not be needed to change it. 

It may well be that a PR person from Apple or a techno-head can come along and give me a good reason
(and by good I mean apart from revenue raising) that changing the battery in an ipod requires a complete dissection...by a professional...at a cost to the ipod owner.

But I doubt it.