Censored and Silenced

Game over.

The Sound of Muzac

Another way I like to pinpoint the speed that life is whizzing on by is The Sound of Music -o-meter.

I distinctly remember watching it thinking Gretel was pretty darn cool. Then I was Gretel. Then Martta, Brigitta, Luisa. I spent most of my life looking up to Leizel. And I wanted to have a boyfriend just like Rolf.

Now, Leizel's a kid, Rolf's just another dorky teenager with a bad haircut and pants too tight, I feel older than Julie Andrews even though I identify with her most, and Christopher Plummer is way hot.

It's amazing that it didn't feel like it took long at all to get here, up to the top of the Main Character ladder.

And the scariest thing is what is that from here the only place to go on to is the Reverend Mother.

Cyclical

It's very strange to find yourself in situations you've been in before, but not as yourself.

Being the one standing on the edge of the deck to cries of "watch me, Mum!" when you can remember being the one doing all your tricks, and being frustrated that Mum was always looking away being busy elsewhere.

Being the one yelling "look at your room!"

Secretly stashing away presents in preparation for Christmas time, at the top of a cupboard which will eventually become the first place the kids look in their hunt in December.

Handing over the bowl to be licked clean

Having the car running

Showing the the oldest sister and brother the games that my brother and I used to play.

Always being the one who counts to ten in a game of Hide and Seek, no longer being the one with my head thrown under a duvet, wriggling and giggling in anticipation of being 'got'.

Watching from the far sidelines as the man that I grew up with next door, Dad's best friend, my friend's Dad. Always there, a big man's chuckly, always telling jokes, fights a nasty and losing battle with an illness of the elderly.

Cyclical.

When good parents go less than good.

It was one of those moments today, where you wished you could grab the nearest dog leash, rope it to one of your children, drag them to the closest sound proof room to have a good old fashioned vent about how their behaviour was affecting you.

Shepherding 4 children out the door, through the gate, down the driveway and into the car, 1 in the arms, 3 mobile, 1 fast walker, 1 slow walker, 1 doing what they were told, 1 not doing what they were told and 1 deliberately doing the opposite of what they were told.

Ultimately it was the 2 year old who turned it into a "please ground, open up and swallow me" moment. The baby grizzling, the 4 year olds sensing the desperation-about-to-turn-into-psychotic tone but Mr 2 was oblivious. Or perhaps he wasn't. Who knows, he's 2.

And in these moments, you're always alone. I wasn't surrounded by other out of control toddlers. I was surrounded by calm mothers, chuckling grandfathers and grandmothers holding the hands of their nicely behaved pre-schoolers chatting together about their day. Not to mention one of those calm mothers also being an off duty police officer who works in the child abuse department. All smiling sympathetically. Watching as I gritted my teeth, scooped up the 2 year old and marched everyone to the car... plotting my revenge... Next time we enter that building he will be in his stroller. Strapped in. Tightly.

Prunes

I was sorting through the baking supplies this afternoon, came across all manner of dried fruits, like dates, apricots, raisins, cranberries - whole, round, shrivelled fruits, that remain relatively unchanged after many years - sitting nicely next to the coconut and promising to become a delicious tasting muesli bar, or fruit loaf, or biscuit, perhaps.

And then I found a packet of something I'd grabbed randomly while whipping my way round Pak n Save, Lower Hutt (bigger than PnS Petone, not as big as PnS Royal Oak but always has more available boxes). It was a packet. Of Prunes. Rebranded prunes. Chopped up little bits of prunes, to look like raisins, taste like Prunes, cheerfully named "Plum Amazins" (cause it's made from plums, but rhymes with raisins.. get it?). You have to wonder how long and how much discussion at the Prune Awareness Association Round Table it took to come up with this name, which is clearly the lastest and greatest things in Prunes since they started wrapping them individually. As though a lonely prune sitting sadly by itself in a little packet would up its sale-ability. Didn't trick my kids.. "that's not a lolly, that's a shrivelled plum in a lolly packet".

Crazy. Seriously crazy. No amount of re-branding is going to better the reputation of the Prune. If it even had a bad reputation to start with? I mean, I'm not raisin-ist, date-ist, or craisin-ist. They're all good, tasty, healthy (not so good for teeth) and nice in muesli. I suppose as a Juice it's got a.. medicinal.. reputation, but that's quite different from the fruit.

Still, the marketing gurus should feel self satisfied because it worked... the evidence in my pantry is the shining packet of "Plum Amazins" - which do rather live up to their name, because I am, seriously, Amazed.

You know you've spent too much time around Drs/Hospitals when...

- you say you need to go to the Dr, the 2 year old grabs his shoes and says "C'mon Mum"and rushes to the front door.

- the 2 year old goes straight to his favourite book in the waiting room

- the 2 year old hears his name called, jumps up and drags you in the door by the hand

- the 2 year old says to the Doctor "Hi. You can listen to my tummy"

- the 2 year old says "you can give me an iceblock now"

- the 2 year old takes his medicine and marvels "ooh... it's pink"

- the 2 year old wakes up the next morning and brags to his sister "I got to go the the Doctor. I got pink medicine"

- you realise that in the last month you've spent more on Doctors visits than shoes.

Pause in transmission

The most effective diet I've ever been on is the raw chicken diet, totally unintentionally - thanks to under BBQ-ed chicken nibbles on Boxing Day one year. 2 weeks of being painfully ill, 6 weeks to start eating normally again, 3 dress sizes later... it was horrendous, but surprisingly effective.

Anyway, I have found myself in the middle of an unplanned 1 day version. That's what happens when you spend most of your day with small children - the places they like to hang are bug paradise. Hence there's been a brief pause in transmission.

On an unrelated note, we've just been through a few days of wild storms - the traffic cone on the Waterloo Rd pine tree remains. If it survived that then it's safe to say it's probably a permanent feature of the Hutt Valley.