Crying over regurgitated milk

Last weekend was brilliant for baking - Cherie taught me to make pasta, and we made buttermilk scones on the Saturday (which were amazing), and A&M had really long naps, so a pretty relaxing day altogether. Then, this Monday I got up at 5am and went for a run, and, as Cherie was off work, we later walked all the way down to the end of the river path (about half an hour either way) in the baking heat, so come Tuesday, I really struggled to get out of bed.

Wednesday was its usual nondescript humpday self, but Thursday was, without doubt, the worst day I've had had in Australia so far. I woke feeling pretty sleep-deprived, as fairly usual by now, and Cherie told me that she thought Michael had a fever and might be ill. He then confirmed this by lolling about on the sofa with his bottle (he's usually pretty active) and then being spectacularly sick - it still kind of amazes me the way that young children (or maybe just Michael?) react to this - or rather, don't. He vomited everywhere, then carried on as normal. I cleaned up (not sure the sofa will ever smell quite right again though :S) then Cherie left, with me under instruction to give him plenty of fluids, keep him as warm as possible, and if all else failed, resort to baby Panadol.

Michael, evidently not done with his spew show, then covered himself and the rug again, just after I'd finished dressing him and putting his pyjamas in the wash. I cleaned him up AGAIN (this time more of a cursory 'let's hope you don't do this again' wipe-down), rescued a soggy, but still smiling (masochist) Tickle Me Elmo, and set about preparing Annie's lunch etc. for Kindy. We dropped Annie off at Kindy - where Michael was unusually quiet - though this was made up for by having to manhandle another little boy, first out of Annie's buggy seat in the buggy, and then by stuffing him back into the gates after an elaborate attempt to escape behind the buggy, as if was more Alcatraz than local Kindy. When we got home, Michael been sick yet again on himself (*neglect disclaimer* I hadn't initially noticed, because of the aforementioned lack of fuss he makes) so I changed him and put him straight to bed.

After a fairly peaceful morning, during which I let the gardener in, and made some stock (a.k.a shoved a whole load of salt, oil and old veggies in the Thermomix to blend and steam-cook), Michael woke up, seemingly a bit better. I persuaded him to eat a little, but on finding him still lolling about, put him back to bed. I'd been texting Cherie on and off about his progress, and she'd told me to let her know if I needed her to pick Annie up from Kindy. As Michael had been seeming better, I told her I thought we'd be ok. In hindsight, I really wish I'd hadn't said that, as about 10 minutes into the journey Michael was again copiously sick - this time in the back buggy seat (that's now 2 out of 2 for seat spew). I cleaned him up as best I could with babywipes I had to hand (thankfully I'd had the foresight to bring a change of clothes too) and we still managed to make it to Kindy on time.

Annie was really good about getting back in the buggy (usually it takes a bit of persuasion, not to mention food-related briber, viz: 'Who would like a biscuit?!' EVERYBODY! ALWAYS!) but on the way back, she dropped her sunhat out of the buggy without me noticing, and, failing to get a coherent answer about what she'd done with it (she was too busy laughing...devious beast) I had to go back along the route (mostly uphill, in an English rose-wilting 20+ degrees) until I found it. When we eventually made it back, I gave Michael baby Panadol, which was unpleasantly like dosing an animal - I had to hold his mouth and shoot a pippette-worth in while he squirmed and cried, and then put him back to bed. I dismantled the buggy cover to put it in the machine, then hand-washed the worst sick off Michael's clothes (an au pair's work is never done...) before putting them in too.

As I stood up from bending over the sink, I bashed my head pretty severely on the corner of the drier. It was the straw that broke the camel's back, and I burst into tears, suddenly feeling exhausted, completely out of my depth, not to mention pretty homesick. I stood in the back garden sobbing for about 5 minutes (Annie was thankfully absorbed in pre-school TV...I love you Channel 22) before pulling myself together and starting to prepare a bath for Annie. Cherie arrived home a few minutes later, and, I think somewhat understanding the trials of the day from my resigned demeanour, was really nice to me all evening - taking over bathing duties, making dinner, and generally taking all responsibility off my hands. Phew. Let's hope the rest of the week develops into better things than the egg-sized bruise currently forming on my head...

Hot air

Today was pretty uneventful as days here go. I managed to get up at 5 again for a run (am quite pleased with my "tenacity" so far on that front...two days and counting! :D) and later took Annie and Michael to Blind Playgroup, where both had a good, if a little fractious time - Michael had seen Cherie leave the house in the morning (she usually sneaks out whilst we're involved in something) and was a bit unsettled all morning.

We then returned home for naptime, during which I managed to switch the baby monitor to the wrong station, picked up someone else's wailing baby on it (possibly next door, as they have a little girl a bit younger than Michael), then woke Michael up (who then started wailing) when I went to check on him and Annie. Intelligence fail... (I blame the severely early mornings).

Other that that, I made some pro-biotic yoghurt (I'd initially planned on bread as it was a good day for getting dough to rise (a.k.a warm and dry) but couldn't find the right flour, and so ended up having another go at the yoghurt which, fingers crossed, won't turn out tasting slightly cheesy, like the last attempt, or of the pea and ham soup I made yesterday - the stock was v. potent and the thermomix still smells of it, despite having been washed out several times since).

So, till tomorrow, and the exciting trip I have planned around Story Time at the State Library of WA. (You can take the girl out of the library...)

Night night!

A xx

Post

Today I confirmed, as my inclinations suggested, that 'less is more', when planning a day with young children, and that their exhaustion can be your best friend. Having both Michael and Annie with me alone for a change, I'd initially thought I might do something ambitious, and take them into the city (a cramped but short bus ride, or 25 minute walk but with more pleasant train journey at the end) to go to the WA State Library, which was recommended to me as a place to take children by the wonderful woman at the WA Museum when I went with Michael.

On being told by Cherie that Paul was likely to want to Skype with the children at about 2pm our time, and having done a run down by the river at 5.30 this morning (Michael is a v. effective alarm clock) I decided instead to head to the playground near Kindy, in order to also get to the Post-Office and sort out my long-overdue postcards/parcels for various people.

When I attempted to go into the Post-Office on the way to the park though, both Annie and Michael kicked up a stink (Annie was actually tearful about it, which is pretty unusual for her - I think she was fazed by the fact that we were walking the route to Kindy, but going somewhere different), and I relinquished, taking them to the park first instead.

We had a long run around - although both were more interested in sliding down the poles that held up the swing set, and watching two men cut the grass, than anything legitimately proffered by the playground as entertainment - Michael though, endearing as ever -has taken to shouting 'Weeeee' at the top of his voice when engaging in outdoor pursuits, which makes him at least look and sound as if he's having fun.

Having successfully tired both out, the post-park Post-Office trip was far more successful, and I managed to buy stamps, envelopes, and address and weigh/post two parcels (filling in lengthy customs and excise info (embarrassingly having to detail the exact tacky Australiana I was sending), and even having to hand over I.D(!) whilst they merrily sang (on Annie's part) and charmed strangers (on Michael's part).

The rest of the afternoon culminated in making pea and ham soup (I'm getting delusionarily Delia thanks to the wonders of Cherie's Thermomix) and continually checking the PC to see whether Paul had logged in to Skype. It was pretty frustrating actually that I largely planned the day around this 2pm Skype date (which, after Cherie calling semi-anxiously from work, turned into 'maybe 3 or 4pm'...I'm guessing Paul is sadly no more organised in the UK than he was here) which never happened. Guess I'll know for next time that it's only a casual arrangement.

There was just time left in the evening to watch another episode of Aussie Masterchef, to which I have become addicted (it featured Rick Stein...whose kindly and calming British mannerisms made me feel mildly homesick again), do some nice wooden puzzles with Annie and Michael (and laugh at Michael's improvisation for a bottle warmer, which resulted in him drinking out of Cherie's Uggs), and have a thorough discussion with Cherie on the merits of the iPod Touch, and various Elmo lots on Ebay before bed.

Night night!

A xx

Freo, Fre-e-e-o!

I took the ferry to Fremantle, Perth's largest Port Town today after a very late start (half 10 - at which Cherie seemed decidedly p*ssed off - she'd invited me to go with them down to the river in the morning, but I'd never actually agreed, and hey, it's my day off!).

Unfortunately, by the time I got to the Ferry Terminal there was only one more ferry going and I had to wait an hour and a half for it. Still, I browsed the rather run-down dockyards (mostly home to greasy spoon cafes) and ate a sandwich and some licquorice allsorts sitting in the blazing sunshine so, you know, could have been worse.

The ferry ride, when the ferry finally arrived, was really awesome. The guy doing the commentary had a fantastic dry wit, and something to say about almost every point along the coast. Fremantle, or 'Freo' as it's know to most Aussies, on the other hand, was a bit of a let down. It did have a great central markets - particularly where food was concerned (I ate a LOT, saw a few digeridoo displays, and just resisted buying a Aussie metal lizard and a platypus puppet...I might yet go back for them). I also sampled 'cobbers' from a 'lolly [aka sweet] shop'  purely because I wanted to know what they were - though they turned out to be rather boring chocolate caramels - and some chocolate coated-pretzels, because I love them (remember 'Pretzel Flips'? I couldn't get enough of those things, esp the white ones. I've just looked them up on Wikipedia (font of all chocolate knowledge at least) and they sell them (and exciting new variations!) across the U.S still...next stop!).

Other than the markets - which weren't that different to Camden/Borough there didn't seem to be much more to Freo, although the lonely planet guide insists that it's a centre of cultural excellence. I suspect I'll have to go back to take in the museums/art galleries etc at some stage, and give it a more fair recce, given that a Sunday afternoon is probably not the best time to see somewhere in all its usual glory.

I did appreciate the free bus service that loops all around the area - that and the beauty of the sun setting over the looming dockworks. The trip to Freo, and subsequent walk back from Victoria Park train station took up most of my afternoon/evening, and before I knew it, another Sunday was over, and it's back to another week of infinite domesticity and Elmo sing-songs...

A xx

Petit Crime

This morning I woke really late because of the severely upset stomach of yesterday/last night. I was feeling much better though thanks to the combined factors of pro-biotic yoghurt, peppermint tea and effervescent electrolyte tablets, so we went to swimming lessons as usual. Unfortunately (possibly because I woke so late :S), we arrived pretty late to the class (and as it's only half an hour, even 5 or 10 min makes quite a difference) and Michael was unusually reluctant to get into the pool, and then spent pretty much the whole lesson wailing plaintively.

Finally it was over though, and after a brief stop back home (where Michael tried to consume pegs as I put out the washing) we went on to 'Babyland' so that Cherie could look into a new buggy for Annie and Michael. Unfortunatey I didn't get to experience the wonder of 'Babyland' because Michael fell asleep in the car, so I stayed in there on baby-minding duty. It was pretty interesting seeing all the people going in though - I don't think I've ever seen so many pregnant women all in one place.

Once Cherie had made a deposit on a suitable buggy (apparently for even just the basics (without rain-covers etc) they can cost in the region of AU $1000 (that's about £580!) we went on to a shopping centre nearby, where I had an hour or so to myself to look round. After discovering the post shop was shut, I spent most of the hour browsing in an arts and crafts shop, amused by the emphatic signs on not allowing children to bite polystyrene shapes, as every week some apparently had to be thrown away due to bite marks. Funnily enough, it was quite comforting reading, having witnessed the vast number of things Michael has put in his mouth just since I've been here (a list that includes uncooked rice, a tablespoon of salt (meant to be mixed into playdough); random bits of plastic; his own hands/feet/shoes; anything that remotely resembles a bottle; DVD cases; foam letters for the bath; a funnel; pegs; and countless pebbles/stones/bits of bark/tree kernels). Anyway, after debating whether to buy the children some washable window crayons (I didn't in the end as they weren't suitable for under 3s, and I thought it probably wasn't a good idea to pave the way for indiscriminate drawing on furnishings) I met Cherie and we returned to car to unpack the shopping she'd done, only to discover that Michael had casually slipped two pairs of purple tights for 6-8 month olds into the bottom of the buggy. Not only a thief, but a cross-dressing one at that.

The evening was further Michael-mischief themed when more thorough inspection of the missing Elmo DVD situation (as there are only 3 "Ah-moo" DVDs, and he is in constant demand, you quickly notice if any go missing (i.e. the repetitiveness becomes that bit more unbearable) and the simultaneous mysterious rattling of the DVD player led me to realise that said DVD was actually trapped somewhere inside the player. Risking electric shock, and probably voiding all sorts of warranties, I removed the case from the player find two DVDs in there, evidently posted in at an opportune moment by Michael, who has an on-going love affair with all manner of electrical gadgets. Somewhat miraculously, both DVDs and player were ultimately unharmed and functional, but this discovery led to a rearrangement of brown goods to place them within less easy reach of the tiny criminal masterminds. Later on this evening, (and speaking of 'brown goods rearrangement'), Cherie mentioned some 'welts' she'd noticed on Michael's behind (which turned out to be scratches he'd made himself, as he has insanely sharp little fingernails, honest!) but, just as she laid him on his front, dropped his nappy, and we both bent over to look, he let out a prolonged fart, made all the more hilarious by the totally innocuous look on his face.

Anyway, on that (bum) note, till tomorrow (and hopefully slightly more sophisticated fare...)!

A xx

Bogged Down

I was looking forward to today because on alternate weeks, we go to Braille nest, or Annie's teacher Veronica comes to the house to teach her (they mostly play learning games, and a do a bit of work on the Braille Typewriter).

I thought that Veronica coming to the house might give me an opportunity to stay in and get some chores done, but it turned into an attempt to distract Michael from joining in so that Annie could have some valuable one-on-one time with her teacher. I decided the best plan would be to take Michael out, and initially intended to go to the park near Kindy, so that I could get to the Post Office too. However, Veronica scuppered my plans significantly, first by suggesting that we only be about 30-45 mins (the walk to Kindy is at least 25 mins, and she said this despite the fact that she was staying for at least another hour...grrr) and then, on seeing Rosie getting excited when I herded Michael outside (which she does every time we go into the garden), said something along the lines of 'If you're going to the park, I expect Rosie would love to go with you? She looks so excited at the idea!'.

Veronica is one of those kindly but faintly commanding people, and as I knew Rosie hadn't been out of the garden in about a month - it sounds a little cruel but it's a pretty massive garden, and she's a very little dog I decided to give up on my Post Office plans, and just take Michael and Rosie out. This meant we couldn't go to the park right near the house either though, as it's surrounded by roads, and not enclosed by gates (very few of the parks here seem to be, despite many being near rivers or roads), and I wasn't sure how Rosie would be at returning if I let her off the lead. As I'd suspected, it wasn't until I got Rosie's lead (ok, I guess I'm just highly suggestible...) that she went really mental, and started leaping all over the place.

We trekked down to the river (about a 20 minute walk) and I couldn't even let Michael have a play in the playground because I was worried about Veronica's randomly imposed curfew. I took comfort in the fact that Michael wasn't at all bothered about not being let out of the pram, and Rosie a) had a whale of a time racing around the green by the river and b) was very well behaved, only stopping to get a bit muddy digging in some earth works, rather than bombing into the river, or disappearing into the trees as I'd worried she might (a lot more of a concern when you're minding a child in a buggy as well, as you can't exactly go racing off after them).

In fact, the main impediment to the outing was the irritating closure of some of the pavements, without replacement of pedestrianised paths. I knew about one side of the street where this was the case, and deliberately crossed to use the other footpath, only to find the same thing on the other side - the choice for pedestrians being to either veer into the road, or onto a sand/grass bank. I chose the latter, got about halfway across the sand, and then just could not push the buggy any further, nor push it back. In the end, I tied Rosie to the buggy, and lifted the entire buggy (thankfully it was the single as opposed to the double one, and therefore relatively light), with Michael in it, and Rosie attached the 100 yards or so onto the next bit of pavement. In 25 degree heat, it was a bit of a herculean feat.

Given my relative travails, I wasn't exactly bet pleased to return to Veronica mentioning that she'd found the fire too hot, but hadn't been able to turn it off, so they'd been meaning to go outside, but she hadn't been able to get Annie's shoes on and therefore they hadn't been able to go into the garden, as Annie only had bare feet otherwise, and she was worried about that because Annie had a cold. She also informed me that Annie had a dirty nappy, and she hadn't felt brave enough to attempt to change it. I appreciate that the fire is quite difficult to work if you've not done it before, and that Veronica was showing due concern for Annie's health, but really, not being able to get shoes on a toddler, or at least attempt to change a nappy (that incidentally was only peed in, and, due to the rather dire nappy-supply situation atm, didn't even really need changing)? It's not rocket science woman! I concluded from this visit, that Veronica, whilst a very lovely, doting woman, and someone with the patience of a saint when it comes to trying to keep Annie's attention long enough to teach her something, has little to no natural skills in terms of day-to-day childcare. I feel legitimised in my smug sense of superiority in this area, as, not only did I get Annie and Michael fed and down for simultaneous naps in the same room (not always easy if one of them won't sleep), but in their naptime I managed to make yoghurt, butter and buttermilk banana bread. I'm on fiiiiiiiiire today! :D

My domestic/childcare elation was only curtailed slightly by having to retire to bed at about 5.30pm with a severely upset stomach, when Cherie came home, probably caught from Michael's vomit yesterday. Karma I suppose for whinging about Michael being ill, and thinking mean thoughts about Veronica...booo :(

A xx

Sick of Museums

Today got off to a pretty interesting start, as the continued torrents of rain meant that Cherie didn't run to work this morning, and it was touch and go as to whether I would bother taking Annie to Kindy or not today, especially given the fact that she has a cold that makes her sound like she's swimming (i.e. gurgling a lot and gasping for air) when she's eating. The weather cleared up sufficiently for me to decide that she'd be better off at school though (that and she had a prolonged inexplicable tantrum when I attempted to leave the room for 5 minutes to get myself some breakfast, so I can't honestly say I wasn't looking forward to it being just Michael and me again).

With Annie packed off to Kindy I decided to up my cultural intake for the week, and go with Michael to the WA Museum, which is just a short train ride from Kindy, into the city. It all went pretty swimmingly - the journey was really easy and cheap (you get free return within 2 hours on trains and buses here  - makes a refreshing change from TfL bleeding you dry!) and the train deposited us virtually at the entrance to the Museum. Michael was also reasonably well behaved, and the staff at the Museum went out of their way to be kind and helpful (Michael, much like his Dad, is a bit of a charmer, and I get the feeling that a lot of people think I'm a single young mother, struggling to cope (well, they've got the last bit spot on at least...), and showed me exactly where the good exhibitions for children were located, and also recommending other things to do with children in the area (n.b. as entry fee is donation only, *must* remember to give a generous donation next time - these good intentions somehow only ever remain good intentions with children in tow).

We left at just the right time (though I'm determined to go back alone and look around more thoroughly - the aboriginal history display looked really interesting, in a harrowingly awful colonial sort of way (think Rabbit-Proof Fence), but its lack of interactive elements meant it failed to hold Michael's attention, so I only got a brief glimpse) and I even managed to shop for Birthday present for Em, and try my first ever meat pie - apparently the traditional foodstuff of Oz) whilst Michael later snoozed in the buggy.

So it was all going suspiciously well - and I thought as much - when suddenly, as we waited for the bus, apropos of nothing, Michael vomited copiously all down himself in the buggy. As I scrambled to get him out of his vomit-soaked clothes, remove the equally vomit-soaked padded bit of the buggy seat, and clean up everything as best I could with wet-wipes and anti-bac hand lotion, we missed the bus, and had to wait a further half an hour in the drizzle before another one came along, with Michael, fairly understandably, whinging pretty much the whole way home. Curses.

Once I'd got Michael hosed off, into some fresh clothes and down for a (mercifully long) nap, I commenced a thorough cleanup operation, and put some rice on to cook (n.b. rice cookers are the most awesome time-saving machines, Im'na get one asap when I leave home). I then texted Cherie to tell her what had happened, just in case it turned into anything serious (the inoculation Michael had recently might have been a factor), and thankfully she decided to come home early from work to pick Annie up from Kindy so Michael and me didn't have to venture out in the rain again, thus saving me an afternoon of further misery.

All in all it was still a pretty good day. My only mild worry now is the fact that the afternoon's events (well, mostly the intermittent torrents actually) prompted Cherie to suggest that I start learning to drive the Toyota, so that I can make it to Kindy in 5 minutes, should I need to, especially as the buggy currently has no rain-cover. She was pretty keen on the idea, saying that it was only the au pairs from countries in which they drive on the left that she was worried about driving here. She seemed pretty flippant about the idea that I needed an International Driver's Permit to drive here, and given my nervousness about driving an unfamiliar car on unfamiliar roads, I decided, for once, that there are some reasons I don't like the similarities between Oz and the UK (other than, you know, the partial let-down of coming to a place across the world that's basically a facsimile of home). Anyway, she said I could do a few test drives and then it would be up to me whether I felt comfortable doing it, so guess I'll just see how it goes...

TTFN!

A xx

Buggy Baby Boogie*

Today was another exercise in coping really, as it was the first day I'd truly been alone to sort out getting Annie to Kindy and then looking after Michael at home. I eagerly though that it might also bring a chance for me to have a bit of time to myself, but given that Michael woke up at 4am this morning, meaning our whole day started late (i.e. everybody slept a bit longer to compensate), and wailed loudly every time I tried to vacuum whilst he was up (he's not really scared of the vacuum cleaner as such, I think he just doesn't like anything that can drown out the noise he's planning on making), the entire day was pretty much a rush of domestic chores. Even when Michael napped for a full 2 and a half hours in the afternoon, I only managed to get about half an hour of that to myself, after basically vacuuming the entire house, and clearing up breakfast+lunch mess (n.b Weetabix (or 'Weet Bix' as it's called here) left uncleaned for a few hours effectively turns into cement - it also has corners, rather than rounded edges over here...are we so incapable of managing cereal with sharp corners in England? [- And doesn't that sound suspiciously like the intro to one of Carrie's 'articles' in SATC...?]

I felt pretty satisfied with how things went today nonetheless, esp. given Cherie's gratitude for the vacuuming when she got home, and the fact that I'd  just (sort of) warded off another nappy-related crisis, when I stupidly undid Annie's nappy, averted my gaze and hands for a second to get a wipe, only to have her lift her bottom off the change table, with the nappy still half on, and the poo fall onto the table (who knew poo could take such solid, rolling-capable form? Nice). Thankfully I managed a successful clean-up operation (of both Annie and change table), the showering of both children, and almost had a meal ready for them as Cherie walked in the door, meaning I could then get out for a run down to the river. The river at night, incidentally, was truly beautiful, if a little hair-raising at times, thanks to path renovations, faintly unexpected bodies of water, boggy ground, and near-pitch darkness). Considering the news here today has been rife with what can happen to little ones when you take your gaze off them (namely two horrendous stories: the Turkish toddler who was carried up the outside of an escalator and the Aussie baby that fell onto railway tracks, both of which thankfully (and pretty surprisingly) ended well), I think I got off pretty lightly. Those stories on the news did inspire a conversation between Cherie and me this evening about the similar recent news stories here (see end of that 2nd clip), culminating in my assuring her that I would continue to always use the buggy breaks when stopping anywhere (I pretty much do this anyway as it's quite hilly on the walk to Kindy, and, irritatingly, they don't seem particularly keen on pavements in this neighbourhood), stand well back from road crossings, and take note at least, of the buggy 'leash' (a strap with a loop at the end to go around the buggy pusher's hand, that has apparently become mandatory on Oz buggys since aforementioned incidents, though I've never seen Paul or Cherie actually use it). So, suitably frightened into responsible buggy-wielding, I bid you goodnight.

A xx

*This title is reference to a supremely irritating song sung by Cookie Monster's (ailing, at least aurally, judging by her inability to hit pleasant sounding notes) Grandma on the 'Sesame Beginnings' DVD Annie and Michael have. In case you care, 'buggy' in that context means 'bug-like', as in, 'moving like a 'squirmy worm' or 'with ants in your pants (on which note, I found MORE ants on the playhouse this morning. I think they've laid eggs elsewhere...urgh)'' etc, rather than the thing you push kids around in, which is more commonly called a stroller/pram(?) in Oz. Now don't say I never teach you anything! (namely, never to watch the 'Sesame Beginnings: Moving Together' DVD, which, incidentally, stars SJP...how meta...or something).

Buttermilk Bread

Today got off to a pretty bad start. I got up early(ish) - at 6.30 - intending to go for a run, only to discover that Cherie, on a safety-consciousness binge following the near-break-in, had hidden all the house keys, and I had no way of getting out. Frustrated, and with an increasing sense of cabin fever, I went back to bed until about half 8, feeling I'd somehow earnt the right to sleep in for a bit. 

When I emerged, Cherie was pretty apologetic (in what I've deduced is a pretty Australian way - i.e. laughing about it) and we went out to the 'Beach House' (the 'Snakes and Ladders'-esque playspace, previous scene of Harry's 3rd Birthday). Things improved from then on out really, the kids were entertained, largely by themselves, there were no accidents á la last time - it was actually a lot easier that going with Paul, and just Michael, weirdly enough. 

The only other major events of the day were killing a large number of ants who had lain eggs in the roof of the children's playhouse...shaking them out was a pretty grim discovery and *drumroll* making my own bread from buttermilk leftover from yesterday's butter-making lesson. It was pretty exciting (as domestic things go) and I learnt how to get bread to 'prove' (rise, basically) and managed to bake it to perfection just as I finished dressing Michael after his bath. The kitchen smelt amazing all evening, and buttermilk bread is sooo delicious (it has a similar consistency to crumpets) I ended up eating a big proportion of the loaf :S Both events made me feel pretty satisfied on the domestic skills front though, and tomorrow is another day, during which (now I know the location of the keys) I will hopefully be able to finally run by the river and blow off some steam. :D

Ciao for now!

A xx

WArt

My second real day off since being here, and seriously looked forward to! We went to a Chinese restaurant and Cherie treated me to Yum Cha for breakfast/brunch which was an interesting experience (I particularly liked the continual offering of food, though Cherie turned down all the interesting looking desserts on our behalf...booo!), but perhaps not one I'm that keen to repeat - that much meat at that time in the morning isn't really to my taste. I then hung around until Annie and Michael went down for their nap because Cherie was desperately trying to sort out cleaning the Toyota because somebody was coming to view it. Then I took the bus into town (narrowly avoiding a mini torrential downpour) and did a bit more looking around the shopping malls. Feeling a cultural dearth I also decided to visit the WA Museum of Art, where they had a visiting display entitled 'Relativity' by a woman called Christina Puccini. Her stuff - consisting largely of anthropormorphised vehicles, which were pretty cool, and weird humanoid creatures made of acrylic and human hair, which were as grossly compelling as they sound. In the upstairs of the gallery they had some really traditional ' Dream Time' art by Aboriginals, and another exhibition called '12', which was by Year 12 students from across WA, and Japan (in an exchange type situation), some of which were truly fantastic. The whole thing was jsut run on suggested donations too, which was pretty refreshing given the usual charges for visiting exhibitions in UK galleries. the only downpoint - something shared by the goawful Saatchi gallery - was the ban on photos. I really hate when galleries do that. Obviously I can understand the desire to keep art and intellectual property from being mercilessly copied, but it just seems pretty draconian to ban photos entirely. Anyway, after a decidedly cold and dready wait for a bus home, I got back ,and Cherie and  I watched 'High Fidelity' - which was not as a good a film as I remembered it being, but we still discovered a shared passion for John Cusack.

Goodnight!

A xx

Room switching

So today was the first day without Paul in the house and everyone coped remarkably well. Cherie and I took Annie and Michael to the local pool for their regular Saturday swimming lesson, which was quite fun. The lessons are only about half an hour, and Michael, though desperate to run into the water with his clothes on initially, did not take too kindly to being ducked under in the pool, despite having done it before, and being given the warning to which he's accustomed (the wide-eyed look of shock on his face when I pulled him up was a cause of slight schadenfreude. The crying for a large proportion of the lesson afterwards wasn't though...). After the lesson, we battled through torrential rain to the car (seriously, Australia?!) then Annie and Michael went down for their nap, and I went for one too, despite fully intending to go into town after Cherie suggested it (the rain and lack of umbrella was a bit of a hinderance though).

We the spent most of the afternoon disassembling and reassembling Annie and Michael's cots to transfer them to the 'spare room' (which has the nappy changing table/all their clothes in it) so that they could be closer to me and Cherie whilst Paul is away. It was actually quite...well, maybe not actually fun, but certainly satisfying, in a rather masochistic way. Annie and Michael 'helping' (by which I mean using the partially disassembled cots as obstacle courses, and periodically running off with bolts and allen keys) made it quite interesting. Both slept perfectly happily in their 'new' room, whilst Cherie and I had a much deserved glass of wine, and some delicious homemade cauliflower soup. Unbelievably, it's getting cold enough here for soup. Bah!

A xx

Training, Planes and Automobiles

This morning I 'slept in' (until 7.50am) accidentally, having set my alarm for 5 to, in theory go for a run down to the river (pfft...like that was ever going to happen). I got up feeling mildly guilty, and hoping Cherie wouldn't be too annoyed, only to find, when I first saw Cherie, that the two cars had been 'broken into' whilst on the driveway. I say broken into, but both had actually been accidentally left unlocked as things have been pretty hectic here recently, organisation-wise (that and this is a 'safe neighbourhood', and they have security gates, so the risk seems minimal anyway). Nothing was taken, thankfully (despite Cherie and the kids' passports being left in one car, and rifled through!), and, thanks to their incomprehensible-to-outsiders immobilisation systems, neither car was actually stolen. This was pretty disconcerting anyway though, as I'd been left as the sole adult in the house last night, because Paul and Cherie went out on their last date night before Paul leaves for the UK. I had felt unusually spooked being in the house on my own - despite having been left there with just the kids before - and weirdly enough, I'd actually gone out to put the buggys down by the side of the house, seen one of the cars unlocked, and with a window down, and attempted to start it to put the windows up. Ironically though, thanks to aforesaid immobilisation system, I'd failed to do so. I wish now that I'd had the foresight to text Paul or Cherie and ask them how to do it, but I didn't want to seem too intrusive, and kind of assumed they might lock both cars when they came back in the other one. The other thing that spooked me the next morning was the fact that there had been a car with its headlights on just across the road, waiting there for an oddly long time (I was trying to fold one of the buggys up, so I know it was at least 10 minutes-worth of incompetent catch-fumbling...), which had then driven off not long after I'd come out. Cherie also told me that whoever they were had been around the side gate, and into the courtyard, despite the fact that Paul had been up until about 3am (attempting to adjust his body clock to UK time). If a big trained military man doesn't deter people from scoping out a house, then it made me wonder what chance Cherie and I have :S. Eh well, if something happens it happens, and Cherie has repeatedly assured me that people can't get into the house, and we (by which she hopefully really means they - I've got into the habit of closing and locking things after me mostly to keep the children out of harm's way) just need to be more vigilant, putting the blinds down (whilst great when the sun is shining, the large windows everywhere do make you feel a bit exposed), and setting the burglar alarm etc.

Anyway, aside from a bit of early morning scare-mongering (Cherie now wants Annie and Michael to be moved into the back nappy-changing room too, to be closer to her and me at night) today was a pretty good day. Whilst Paul went into the city to complete various remaining tasks, Cherie and I took Annie and Michael to 'Braille Nest', which is basically another form of Kindy, again with specific emphasis on extra support for visually-impared children. The facilities were fantastic - it's basically a nursery attached to a Primary School, and they had all manner of outdoor play things (Michael had a whale of a time climbing stuff, pushing carts around, and throwing a giant ball about) - whilst indoors they had the same fluorescent books with braille and sewn on 3D pictures (things like little rubber frogs, teddies etc) as well as all the things you'd find in an everyday nursery ('home corner', craft areas, teeny chairs and sinks and so on). Unfortunately, the day's activity was 'making playdough' (seriously, for someone with a playdough phobia, Annie has to deal with a pretty indecent amount of exposure to it) but Annie was fine until it got to the mixing stage, and the mixture actually started to resemble playdough, at which point she promptyl refused to join in, and looked at books for the remaining time. We stayed all morning, though Cherie hadn't intended to, as Annie hadn't been in a while, so we were supposed to be helping her settle. This resulted in a major 'tanty' when we left though, and I attempted to carry a screaming, squirming Annie out of the gate (she can be heinously stubborn/immovable when she doesn't want to do something). 

After this, things got considerably better though, and we returned home for prolonged naps (I had a bit of a zone-out in my room after ensuring there was nothing more around the house I could feasibly do) then I took Annie and Michael down to the playground right by the river, which was really picturesque, we had 'bathtime' - which turned into 'shower-time', as Cherie has apparently been informed by the kids' swimming teacher that showers might help Annie's developing water familiarity. What with that, the change of bedroom, and the impending absence of Paul, it seems a lot of change for them both to cope with. Paul also warned me that Cherie was likely to be upset for a while at his leaving...(well duh! I know there's the British stiff upper lip stereotype and all that, but we can still empathise!). So how everyone fares over the next few days remains to be seen...

A xx

Hyde Park and little accidents

We dropped Annie off at Kindy this morning, intending to join her later on the class trip to 'Hyde Park' (lol). We went on the DMV for Paul to change the license plates on the Toyota to Perth ones (it was bought in Adelaide), but, bizarrely one of the requirements is documentation on the weight of the car to prove it's not heavy good vehicle, so after a 20 minute meeting with the woman at the desk it transpired that none of the car documentation had this info on, so the car had to be weighed. Whilst Paul went off to do that, Cherie, Michael and I drove around Hyde Park (the UK namesake of which is a heckkuva lot bigger :)) to see if we could spot Annie, but (again :S) she had to be left to her own devices. Thankfully she hadn't been told/wasn't aware that we might have been coming along, although apparently she flat-out refused to get in the bus to the park, and had to be ferried there by one of the teachers, in a car seat. Annie really isn't a fan of the unexpected, and Cherie was convinced that it was the disruption - the fact that she had just got to Kindy, and was then told they were leaving again - that made her freak out. Anyway, the day was pretty standard apart from that, although come bathtime, attempting to be efficient in dealing with two mandatory nappy changes at once (Poofest 2010 continues!), I changed Michael's nappy, put him on the floor of the nappy room, where he promptly started to wee. I yelled - the surprise of which I think stopped him - grabbed him and deposit him straight in the bath. Grab the stain-removing soap on the way back, scrub the carpet and change Annie, then deposit her in the bath. Crisis sort of semi-averted! Woo!

Night night

A xx

Office Babies

This morning I did my first solo morning get-out to Kindy with Annie and Michael. I was so ontop of things (for once) that we actually arrived 5 minutes before Kindy started. This turned out to be rather more a curse than a blessing, as Michael started to get crotchety (the minute somebody else does or gets something (in this case, Annie getting out of the buggy) he wants in on it too) and it was pretty awkward for me, as all the other parents chatted amongst themselves, and spoke to Annie and Michael, but not me :S I've become slightly averse to introducing myself because even when I do people almost immediately revert to calling me 'Anne', even after I've corrected them. The McFaddens previously had an au pair called 'Anne', so I can understand the confusion from some corners, but even those who would never have had contact with her seem to decide that's my name even if they start off saying 'Anna'. It's incredibly frustrating, although I suppose I can take some solace from the fact that it's just not that common a name here (and therefore, hopefully not personal), given the fact that, the range of names I've come across so far includes: Skye, Xavier, Angus, Jayden, Summer (quite a few of these in fact), Savannah, Nikita (but spelt 'Nakeeta'), Allie-Anne, to name but a few. On the flipside of this argument though, these names are uncommon to me, yet I've managed to remember them! Bah!

Anyway, nominal whinging aside, today was pretty fun. Once I'd dropped Annie off, Michael and I did a quick stop-off at the discount pharmacy to get a giant tub of hand-sanitiser (a serious godsend for changing nappies, but narrow shelves, and aisles with items precariously stacked in the middle en route to purchasing are NOT fun to negotiate with a relatively wide buggy). We got back to the house, and I had to attempt to get Paul up to take me and Michael to a tea-party at Cherie's work - they were having a kind of 'dress down' day where everyone came dressed as, or bearing something that represented an aspect of themselves, and a couple of the women, as working mothers, wanted to bring their children in. I knocked for Paul, expecting him to still be in bed (he's attempting to adjust his body clock to UK time) but he was up and assured me he'd be down and ready to go any minute. About 20 minutes later he came ambling down the stairs and started to make himself breakfast, asking me if this was the Blind Association meeting he was going to. I told him, (in a tone that was a cross between scathing and surprised) that it was the tea-party at Cherie's work, and he apologised for being more out of it than usual (although given his usual time management/organisational skills I doubt there was much discernible difference [I am well aware of the irony of me criticising someone else's time-management though, thanks :P]).

So we headed into the City and met Cherie in her dull-as workplace (good samosa and cake today though :D) and everyone cooed over the cuteness of Michael. I felt pretty sorry for Annie at this stage - although I'm sure she was enjoying Kindy, it seems a shame that she misses out on a lot of bonding things like this. People also remark on Michael's cheeriness and affability a lot more, although, if she's in the mood, Annie can be every bit as, if not more, disarmingly cute (if you really get her smiling, she gets these cute Japanese-kawaii style eyes. Somewhat like this a trait that, as Paul pointed out, comes from Cherie). Anyway, Michael had some photos taken 'helping' Cherie work at her desk, much to his delight (he is an incredible ego-maniac Michael, you just have to point his face out to him in any reflective surface and he's making gleeful noises and laughing away (e.g. Paul was on the sofa once eating something from a chrome bowl and Michael toddled over to see [read, be fed] and ended up admiring himself in it!) then Paul went to the infamous London Court to purchase Australiana tat to give as gifts in Saudi (apparently Saudi people are big on gift-giving and personal relationships in the business world), then went to the Citizen's Advice Bureau (Commonwealth similarities a-go-go...) and Michael and I played in a nearby park. Again Michael attracted a number of people, from several cheery elderly ladies and businesswomen, to an 11 month old girl and her Dad (they exchanged sticks a number of times. I think it was love...), and a group of teenage boys who, for some reason, Michael froze and pointed vigorously at, then attempted to follow out of the park, much to their amusement. He seems fascinated by the behaviour of older children, but particularly boys, often trying to join in with what they're doing, which is pretty ironic, given his treatment of baby Angus.

A banal day?

Today was pretty ordinary but I felt like I achieved a few minor victories - I managed to get Annie and Michael both out of the house (and completely ready - everyone had shoes on, fresh new nappies and a sufficient supply of nutritious food and drink not to starve between 9.30 and 1); we had a successful day at Blind Playgroup, despite the fact that it was 'playdough making' day (I was filled with dread when I hear them announce this, as Annie has a phobia of playdough and tends to freak out a bit around it. She was really good though, thanks largely to the awesome staff at the playcentre, and we survived the 2 hours there with minimal upset from Annie or Michael (and I even learnt some new songs, including the delightful 'Bee, bee, bumble bee, won't you say hello to me?' which always begins Playgroup); I did some grocery shopping on the way home, with Annie and Michael plus heavily-laden buggy in tow (I needed some intensive moisturiser - my hands are not taking kindly to all the washing - but I was mostly just curious to see whether I could manage it); I successfully transferred both children from buggy to bed, whilst asleep (them, not me) with minimal upset, and they both slept for about 2 and a half hours (it's normally about 1 and a half at most); I did a huge amount of housework including wiping little hand-prints of TVs and mirrors - something that has been bugging me since I noticed them last week - and reorganising two massive drawers full of tupperware in the kitchen; I bathed both children with minimal fuss, and put Annie to bed again. Minor childcare/domestic victories FTW! :D 

When Cherie came home from work (and particularly after cooking for everyone) she seemed a bit pissy, but I think she's just stressed about Paul going away to the UK for 3 months on Friday. Given how disorganised I've already noticed Pauls is (props to Christina for the heads-up there) it's no wonder. Cherie actually said to me something like 'I've got to go with Paul tomorrow and get some original identification papers certified with him. I know he doesn't really want to go, but it needs to be done' - so he is effectively an extra recalcitrant small child sometimes  (only with earning power and the ability to drive..so somewhat more difficult). Paul and more importantly Cherie seemed to relax a bit later on though, especially after I feigned an interest in the horrors of additives (with only minor guilt-twinges about the drawer full of a ludicrous amount of junk food in my room), and watched a DVD of photos and videos from Annie's early years. The DVD was really heart-warming, seeing Annie go from this tiny purple baby-bird like creature (she was born at only 23 weeks, thanks to the sheer willpower of Cherie (who went into labour at 22 weeks, but hung on for the crucial week it took for Annie to be considered 'salvageable', luckily being registered one of the top three Preemie hospitals in the world), to the robust baby on the way to being the stubborn (but nevertheless delightful) little girl she is now.

The only other note-worthy thing (boredom-threshold permitting) that happened today, besides receipt of my delightfully pink Visa card, was that I woke up to discover I'd gained a pretty bad insect bite on top of my right foot (in addition to the litany of scrapes, cuts, bruises, and eye-scratchings that go hand-in-hand with small-child maintenance). At the risk of being labelled valetudinarian (or even worse, a whinging Pom), I've so far neglected to mention it to Cherie and Paul that this bite has now made my foot swell to the point that I can't really bend it properly. Hopefully the swelling will have disappeared by tomorrow morning though. Until then!

A xx

A Day Off!

Considering I often don't feel like I'm really working here (I spend a LOT of time playing silly games, or in rough and tumble on the grass outside with Annie and Michael (the latter in particular LOVES to be chased, held upside down, spun, you name it) and/or eating really well, and drinking quite a lot of wine (only when offered by Paul or Cherie in the evenings, I hasten to add...) I was surprised to be really looking forward to my day off. The main factor, I think, (ok, I know) was being able to sleep in, and do my own thing without feeling massively guilty that Cherie had been up, feeding people, organising stuff for Paul and doing housework since 6am. When I eventually emerged, I had to hang around, rather embarrassingly in my pyjamas (the top of which is apparently a weeny bit low-cut to withstand 'UP' demands :S thankfully I managed not to flash anyone though), waiting for a shower whilst aforementioned semi-obnoxious family used my bathroom. After a hearty breakfast, (and a rather endearing play session in the garden - during which even the awful Joshua seemed passably cute) the other family left, thankfully, and Paul and Cherie offered to drive me to the Harbour Town outlet mall, as they needed to get some last-minute stuff for Paul's UK trip. I gratefully agreed - bearing in mind my recent directional ineptitude - and we spent a surprisingly pleasant few hours there (I think going off on my own once we got there, and actually getting the chance to spend some money (not that it isn't wonderful to have things paid for so often) probably played a rather large part). I ended up buying quite a bit, including an A5 painting notebook, which I will hopefully have a chance to use soon, and three warm tops, as a tragic concession to the fact that (at least in the evenings) it really isn't as warm as I'd hoped it might be.

We then moved on to the Central Business District (CBD) where Paul needed to go briefly to sort out a new Sim Card, and I was finally left to fend for myself (albeit with strict instruction on where the bus stop was, which buses I needed, and exactly when to press the bell...I still managed to walk in the wrong direction for a few minutes when I got off the bus though. Directional ineptitude prevails!). The best (by which I mean most hilarious) bit about the shopping area in the CBD was 'London Court', which is a street supposedly designed to replicate London. I strongly suspect it was designed by someone who has never actually been, but thought that making things really narrow, throwing together some mock-tudor frontages with crests dotted around, and old school 'Tea Shoppe' would suffice to recreated Blighty right there. Other than the overwhelming authenticity of the place, it was pretty bemusing, as the majority of shops there sold supremely tacky Australiana, rather than British goods, and the overwhelming majority of people visiting the shops there (and in some instances, working in them) were Asian. I bought numerous horrendously tacky souvenirs (most interestingly some aboriginal painted items from an authentically Australian (read, Middle-Eastern) man. I suppose in a way, it was really an Australian experience, given how much of a cultural melting pot this Country seems to be. Anyway, I made it home, rather triumphantly, with my goods, then filled the rest of my evening with Skype calls to various lovely people (you know who you are ;)). I'm looking forward to next Sunday already...

A xx

How ya going?

Last night saw a massive thunderstorm that happened to coincide with my still-jetlagged 4am waking pattern lately. It was pretty spectacular, and I watched for a while, thinking that even though it wasn't quite the weather I'd anticipated from Oz, it was dramatically worth witnessing. Unfortunately it meant the next day was pretty overcast, so we were limited to what could be done during the day (i.e. driving to Kindy rather attempting to walk, thanks to a coverless buggy, and hence no chance for local exploration). Cherie had her first day back at work today too, so it was just me, Paul and Michael in the house. Whilst I was half tending to Michael, half listening to the TV news, they played an old interview with Jessica Watson, the 16 yr old who's just about to return from a solo world sailing trip (and, who is, incidentally, a dead spit for my younger brother's girlfriend). The clip was from just prior to her setting off, and the interviewer opened with the common Aussie greeting 'how are you going?' (or more accurately 'how ya gahn?'), to which my jetlag-and-idiom-addled brain immediately responded 'surely by sail-boat? You literally JUST spoke about it'.

Once I was a bit more awake - thanks in part to my first 'Epic' experience - Paul introducing me to an 80% Belgian hot chocolate from a coffee shop (unsurprisingly) called 'Epic' - we had the dubious pleasure of accompanying Michael to the 'Beach House Café'  for Harry's third Birthday, whoever Harry is. The Beach House is a gigantic indoor play centre - somewhat like the UK's Snakes and Ladders if you need a point of reference. Turns out they, along with video hire shops, are a curiously common amenity here - both strange for a country with supposed year-round sun, at least if the perpetual Summer climate of Neighbours is to be believed.

Harry's third Birthday was an interesting affair, in as much as the shenanigans of other people's children ever are. Harry's family are also ex-RAAF, a few months ahead of the same Saudi-move process that the McFaddens are currently in the midst of. Any sympathetic family ties became somewhat strained though when of the plethora of activities available, Michael proved mainly interested in freeing every single ball from the cheery confines of the ball pond, then running around with one in each hand and depositing them in obscure places. We also had the first (and therefore most horrifying) little accident, as my enthusiastically encouraging Michael onto the bouncy castle caused him to fall and cut his lip. In retrospect, a giant, unsteady inflatable already covered in a writhing mass of sugar-fuelled little bodies probably wasn't the best place for someone who's still unsteady even on solid ground. My initial reaction,before I realised he'd actually done himself damage, was some perfunctory soothing, and it wasn't until Paul picked him up that we discovered his mouth was bleeding. Oops. Still, Paul was pretty understanding, and Michael whiled away the rest of Harry's party alternating between maniacal dancing and admiring his own reflection in the shiny walls of the disco room. Often both at once. n.b. his dancing is adorably hilarious: he stands stock still, see-sawing his arms and occasionally stamping his feet in no recognizable rhythm - so pretty much on a par with awkward white men at clubs the world over.

Soon after we returned home (to a bag of clementines hanging on the gate - citrus fruits seem to be a standard method of greeting here) Cherie came back, in an attempt to be helpful, and a last ditch effort for some local area exploration, I offered to take the single buggy and pick up Annie from Kindy. Semi-magnanimous gesture though it was, I unfortunately failed to follow the directions that had seemed oh-so-memorable the day before, took a wrong turn, and couldn't remotely work out how to get back where I needed to be in time. I had to call Cherie to bail me (and Annie) out in the end, confessing that I'd inherited my Mum's horrendously bad sense of direction.

How am I going? Not without a map in future apparently...

G'night folks!

A xx

Kindy

This morning marked my first trip to Kindy with the whole family, and luckily for me the route seemed surprisingly easy, with the exception of quite a number of hills. I was introduced to Sophie, Annie's main Kindy teacher, and had a look at the provisions for Annie - which included all the things you'd find in a non-specialised Kindergarten, with the addition of things like the neon coloured reading books with tactile things sewn in. On the way back from Kindy, I popped into the bank with Cherie and Michael (Paul had gone off to complete some tasks towards his leaving for the UK later this month) and set up the account for Cherie to pay me more easily. It was ridiculously easy - even setting up internet banking, and I could even choose the colour of my debit card (pink, in case you care) which was a refreshing change from banking in England. 

The afternoon was then mostly taken up going clothes shopping with Cherie - her Grandmother had given her some money for Annie and Michael, and she wanted to spend it on flannel pyjamas for both (because apparently the Winter here can actually get pretty cold. Ha! Wussies). We also picked up a couple of new Elmo DVDs, for which I was supremely grateful, as I was sick of the 'Sesame Beginnings: Moving Aorund' one already...adn it had been less than a week. We had lunch out, which was pretty pleasant - when the child:adult ratio is switched, things are, unsurprisingly, a lot easier - and I completed my first successful impromptu nappy change (by which I mean on the floor of the toilets, rather than on a change table). So though relatively banal, the day was pretty good in terms of getting to grips with the routine and Perth in general.

Night-night!

A xx

Back 'Home'

So today we (Paul, Cherie, Annie, Michael and I) flew back to Perth. This involved a lot of child-amusement at the airport, and a very tearful farewell on the part of Christina. Before we left the Chettles, Nathan added Christina and me (though largely as an afterthought) on Facebook, and drove us to the airport - he still had P plates on his car as apparently they do the driving test in two stages here, and ahving P plates is mandatory for a certain number of years after you've passed the first element. 

When we got back to Perth (I was seated away from Paul, Cherie and the kids, which actually I was pretty thankful for, although they were impeccably well-behaved, when I got up to go to the loo, they were crawling all over a tired-looking Paul). On the taxi ride back to the house, Paul chatted away to the reluctant cabbie in a way that really weirdly reminded me of Mart and the way he used to do that 'chatting with the Joe Public' in that awful miscalculated and ostentatious way politicians do (provided Joe Public in question is not a bigot, that is) in an attempt to prove himself 'one of the people' (e.g. mentioning their name an awful lot, 'so Ahmed, do *you* have children?'...and then casually bringing it up later on, in case you didn't notice at the time 'when I was talking to that 40 year old black man earlier, he'd been a cabbie for 30 years serving this country...' etc etc). As we drew into the driveway, the nieghbour across the road who had been looking after Rosie the Jack Russel for the week appeared, rather randomly, with a large bag of grapefruit she'd picked from her garden for the family. The remainder of the day was spent re-adjusting to Perth time (they're an hour and a half behind) unpacking, and doing food shopping etc, but that was more than enough excitement (not to mention travelling) for me

Night night!

A xx

The Chettles arrive home

Today was pretty unexceptional except that the usual inhabitants of the house we were staying in - The Chettles - that is, Cherie's Aunt Marie, Uncle Wayne, and Cousin Nathan all came home from their grand tour of Europe, during which they'd visited Monique, Nathan's sister, who is currently at university in the Netherlands. They were all lovely, and surprisingly non-jetlagged. They basically spent the day at home catching up (and being quizzed by me on how they'd enjoyed Europe) and with Nathan showing off his awesome piano playing skills, and trying to teach Christina 'Chopsticks' (I get the impression he fancies her) - with Michael intervening on the piano every so often. Then in the evening, more extended family showed up, and a lot of the younger cousins talked about going out to a friendly basketball match. They invited me and Christina along, but when Christina declined (she goes to bed seriously early), I didn't seem to be invited any more, though I would have quite liked to go along (told you Nathan fancied her...) so I spent the evening instead with Paul trying to explain Aussie Rules Football to me, and watching old episodes of Flight of the Conchords.

G'night!

A xx

MOTHER'S DAY

Today was Mother's Day in Australia, and turns out it's quite a big thing here - there have been numerous news stories based around the exciting exploits of Mums and so on. On this occasion - with quit a lot of Mums in the extended family, everyone was coming over the the Chettle's house for a big Barbecue. My first Aussie Barbie! As there were so many people (all of us, Hugh, Mel and Angus, Damien and Chris, plus Cherie's Mum and Grandmother, the Beatties from yesterday, and numerous assorted Aunts and cousins etc) most of whom brought food with them, there wasn't that much to do in the kitchen, or that much space to do it in. I decided to attempt to be helpful by putting some things in the wash. The machine, despite being a top-loading one, all seemed pretty straight-forward, so I loaded it up - mostly with Annie and Michael's things, and various cleaning cloths, put in some washing powder, and switched it on.

20 minutes later, I happened to go into the laundry room, only to find, horrifyingly, a huge mass of soap bubbles coming out of the drain bit in the floor, in hilariously cheesy film-mishap fashion. I turned the machine off, mopped up the bubbles, and tried to work out where things had gone so wrong, whilst also alternating between turning the machine back on (which, whatever setting I put it on, resulted in more foam coming from the floor) and desperately hand-rinsing out the stuff in the machine so that no one would think I was the incompetent domestically-challenged fool that I actually am. After the conclusion of that panic, I had to run the gauntlet of further meetings with the insane old ladies that seem to make up Cherie's extended family. this time Hamish's mother - so Alicia's paternal Grandmother, who accosted me with a hundred questions, without introducing herself, and then proceeded to tell me the dangers of hiring someone to look children without a CRB check (I placated her by telling her I'd had one for my last job, rather than by pointing out their fallaciousness).

The rest of the day was quite nice - there was a plethora of food on offer (disappointingly only one dessert, and flan-based at that) and in the evening I discovered that both Paul and Cherie were lapsed Catholics, and I went with them and Chris, to the local Chuch, where we met Cherie's Grandmother (who is a v. vigilant Catholic, and had already been to Mass that morning too). It was quite a nice, modern Church, and I was surprised to find exactly how similar the Mass was to Mass in the UK (curiosity about this was probably the main thing compelling me to go). We then drove Cherie's Grandmother back to her place to get her settled (bypassing the priest on the way out, who, bizarrely, had the most enormous dog I'd ever seen - I think it was a Newfoundland - greeting parishoners with him) and I saw lots of hilarious old photos of Cherie (including a spookily portentious one of a teenage Cherie holding a baby - I think a cousin or something - who looked exactly like Michael).

All in all a good, but exhausting day. Goodnight!

A xx

Sleeping all the way to Victor Harbour

Paul's elder brother Damien and mum Chris arrive today. Both seem really lovely - Damien is very nice, somewhat unlike Hugh, so I was quite surprised when Paul told me privately later on that Damien had gone a bit off the rails when their Dad had died (I think he died when they were quite young) and had lost contact with them all for a while, refusing to take part in any family functions). We then  drove out to Victor Harbour (and I fell asleep in the back with Annie and Michael, which was a bit embarrassing, but thankfullly I can still blame jetlag!) to see the Beatties, who are Cherie's younger sister Marisa, her husband Hamish, and their daughter (who I originally thought was called 'Alesha', but turns out is 'Alicia', just with Ozzy pronunciation), who is nearly 2. They were really nice - although it's always a bit awkward being in someone else's house and trying to look after Annie and Michael (esp. with extended family members all around - it's difficult to know where authority lies). Marisa's house was beautiful - smaller than Paul and Cherie's, but very minimalist, with lots of great photo prints on the walls, and a fantastic view to the coast from the second floor (this is about the first house I've been in too that has a normal upstairs! - i.e. one that covers the entire ground floor). I thought at first that one of them might be an interior designer (esp. as Alicia's room is all ladybird themed) but it turned out Hamish is actually a chef, and Marisa is mostly a Mum (as in, she's not really had a professional career), AND that Cherie had actually had a big hand in helping design Alicia's room, including making her ladybird quilt (v. impressive). 

After a brief stop for lunch at the Beattie's, we went on to 'Urimbirra Wildlife Experience Park', where I got my fill of Kangaroos, Koalas and Kookaburras, but sadly just missed out on getting to hold a snake as there was a raft of boy scouts clamouring to do the same. 

Phew...a busy day.

Night night!

A xx

Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee

I still woke at 4am this morning, but found it's a good time to check email/ go on MSN without fear of interruption by anyone else in the house. Today was Hugh's Birthday, and we went to Adelaide Central Market (famous within Oz apparently) and had MORE coffee (Aussies are BIG on coffee). The weather was great - I actually made use of my new sunglasses properly and we strolled around, Cherie and Paul getting lots of interesting ingredients for the pasta feast they were planning for this evening. On the way back, I went with Mel to pick up Hugh's Birthday cake which she had ordered in advance, staying in the car with baby Angus so she didn't have to bother getting him out. It was interesting actually - I found out Mel is an accountant who works from home, and this made her seem more personable - I could kind of understand her frustration at being at home all day AND attempting to look after a small child at the same time. When we got back to the house, once the pasta preparations were underway, and all babies were down for a nap, I decided to go for a stroll. I went out the back of an empty lot to some pseudo-outback, which was pretty interesting, but got a bit lost attempting to loop back to the house, and ended up by the freeway where I got tooted at twice, despite wearing 'daggy' clothes and sweating profusely in the humidity (maybe it was more tooting in disgust... hmmm)

The rest of the evening was taken up by Huw's Birthday. This involved meeting a lot of people whose names I will never remember - except perhaps Sandy, Sarah and Jack, who stick in my mind mostly as the half-English couple (Sarah is from Leicestershire, and was really lovely when she found out I was English too) with a tiny old man for a son (their little boy Jack is a bit older than Michael, but v. petite, and was wearing a tiny knitted Ralph Lauren gilet) - and a LOT of domestic servitude, as I struggled to be as helpful as I could. I also fed Annie for the first time (and ended up feeding Jack a bit too) which was nice as it indicates that she's trusting me a bit more now. Mel was v. nice to me all evening, in particular making sure I got a slice of the Birthday cake, and it made me glad that we'd had the bonding time in the car, as I still get the impression that there is tension between her and Christina. 

Anyway, more sleep beckons,

A xx

Getting accustomed to Adelaide

Today was largely unexceptional - we spent the day at the house with Cherie's Mum and Grandmother. (respectively known as Mimi and Gigi to Annie and Michael) whilst Paul and Cherie were out all day at BAE inductions to prepare them for living in Saudi. The day passed pretty much without incident, except when I overheard Cherie's Mum saying to Chrisitina something along the lines of 'you girls are so slim - that other one is chubbier than you though I think. Don't tell her I said that'. Way to conduct yourself in a small bungalow ! Eh well, I refused to take her shallowness to heart, as a) in the stereotypically old lady fashion she seems to thrive on commenting on everyone's weight, practically on the hour, so technically I guess it wasn't personal, and b), being 'chubbier' than Christina, who is exceptionally tiny (she doesn't eat evening meals, and eats hardly anything during the day either) is tantamount to being 'normal' sized.

I spent much of the day feeling rather useless - Christina is so organised she continually has everything under control, and even when I try to help I usually end up doing things wrongly (i.e. not her way) - but things picked up a bit when Mimi gathered mandarins from the tree outside for us to eat (I was pretty excited to eat fruit straight of the tree that I'd previously only seen in supermarket-organised form), and with the arrival of Paul's brother Hugh, his wife Mel, and Angus, the largest -headed baby I've ever seen. The main attraction of their arrival was the obvious tension that soon developed between Christina and Mel, the latter of whom was pretty awful in terms of her apparent belief that being extended family qualified her to treat Christina and me as slaves (not to the extent that she asked us to do stuff for her, just was pretty brusque to the 'help', and left a trail of mess everywhere she and Angus went).

Anyway, tomorrow brings another, hopefully more exciting day!

A xx

Adelaide

After a pretty good night's sleep (the bed here seems reaaaaaally comfy, though I spose anything would in comparison to 17 hours in an aeroplane seat) and much manic packing we set off for Adelaide. Paul, Cherie, Annie and Michael were flying an hour or so before me and Christina, so we helped them all check in then waited in the airport for them to board. It was nice to spend some time getting to know the children - especially bonding with Annie, as yesterday she was a bit fractious at the noise of Michael's new cars on the wooden floor (apparently she gets freaked out quite easily/ has a number of irrational fears) and didn't seem that keen to meet me (as opposed to Michael who was immediately insanely smiley). Then, when the family boarded, I got a proper chance to talk to Christina (though for talk, read 'bombard with inane questions') and she told me that Paul, though she loved him as a person, was effectively like another child in being incredibly disorganised yet eager. I though that actually sounded pretty endearing, and wondered how relative his disorganisation was, considering that Christina's German origins, and the likelihood of her actually being incredibly efficient. Time will tell I suppose!

The flight was surprisingly pleasant, though I was starting to feel pretty flu-ey with all the recycled air I'd been breathing. When we got to Adelaide airport, we were met by Paul, Cherie's Mum (whose name now totally escapes me...), and her step-dad Dave, who turned out to be originally Mancunian. We drove back to Cherie's Aunty Marie's house, where we would be staying, with Cheri'es Mum filling us in on their family history in Adelaide (apparently Cherie's Grandmother and Grandfather were the first Filipino immigrants in Adelaide, though now the Filipino community there is massive)

Met family

Consoled Christina over disorganisation of her last week

Met Paul's Brother Huw and family (briefly)

Arriving in Oz

So, the journey to Oz was pretty epic - although I'm sure I frequently sit for over 10 hours straight at home, once you know you have to do it, with limited capability for movement, and no chance of fresh air, it becomes a pretty draining endeavour. Both flights were great really though – I got an aisle seat (sounds pathetic, but I hate being trapped in by other people - it makes me need to wee more, knowing that it’s difficult to do so…stoopid contentious bladder) and a window seat, with an empty seat next to me from Dubai to Perth. I initially had the whole row to myself on the first leg to Dubai, and was envisaging spreading out luxuriously across all 4 seats to sleep at some point, but unfortunately two hefty randomers decided to move from their original seats and take up residence on my row. I pointedly spread out across the seat next to me, and gave them my fiercest tut, but they seemed too thick-skinned (haha) to notice. 

Anyway, now I sound entirely old and cranky and un-p.c, I have to say everything went incredibly smoothly (minus a hilarious chicken/fish swap mishap with the dude next to me from Dubai). Pretty good food, plenty of drinks, quite a lot of sleeping, and so many entertainment options that I didn’t even open any of the books I’d brought :S I watched ‘The Lovely Bones’ which was pretty fantastic – and I don’t usually like adaptations of books that I’ve loved so that's high praise indeed. I also saw ‘Twilight’ (somewhat ashamedly, but bolstered by the idea that technically I wasn’t paying to watch it, so that made it ok) and found myself disturbingly attracted to ‘R.Patz’, and, in fact, so desperate to see the conclusion that I plugged my own headphones after they’d collected the airline ones as we were taxiing down the runway). Having thought about the film out of the brain-addling confines of the plane (though it was a MASSIVE plane – it had an upstairs! I didn’t even know they could do that!) though, I realised not that much actually happened in it, other than Bella’s slow-witted realisation that Edward is a vampire, and the unnecessary risk of everyone’s lives for a glorified high-school fling. Somehow doesn’t stop me wanting to watch the second one some day though…  

When I finally got in to Perth, I studiously filled out an incoming passenger card, detailing the Royal Jelly toiletries that I'd brought and the marmite-coated nuts brought as a typically English gift to my hosts (nuts and bee products apparently need to be declared), then dug them out of my massive holdall (not a simple feat by any means - I ended up strewing a large proportion of the baggage collection area with my underwear), bricking it through customs thanks to my hearty exposure to the severity of the TV programme 'Border Security: Australia's Front Line' in the last few weeks, only to have the woman at customs be entirely dismissive. Foolish gaijin! Still, I suppose better that than be turned away or fined an enormous amount (that and people just going 'yeah, that's fine' wouldn't exactly make compelling TV...). 

When I finally made it out of the Arrivals gate, I was met by Paul who looked significantly thinner than he had in photos/our Skype communications, was wearing a leather jacket, and, it turned out, driving a souped-up boy-racer (mags, tinted windows, spoilers etc)...in short, pretty ludicrous considering he usually ferries 2 small children around in it :D We arrived at the house, I met Cherie, the au pair I was replacing, Christina, and a very cute (but rather snotty) Annie and Michael, unpacked my stuff (including some toys for the kids which were very well-received) and, after watching a short DVD Cherie had made for Christina of some photos/video clips of her time in Oz, and with them  - during which Christina cried, which gave me a bit of schadenfreude, considering she must love the family a lot to feel so strongly for them after only 3 months or so - crashed out, ready to fly to Adelaide the next morning!

Til then!

xx