Advertising and Nepotism

Yes, TWO of the seven deadly sins on the blog today.  Which makes a refreshing change from crimes again cookery, I think.

M'cousin is in advertising, and is the creative mind behind the much loved Christmas Bond's ad...

Well, she's been at it again, and here's the latest Bond's ad, it has babies, many cute babies, if, in nine months there is a spike Aussie births, we shall blame her...

This is all free social media floggery for Bonds.  Am just ridiculously proud of m'cousin :)  Though, have no complaints about Bond's gear, come to think of it.

Autism Awareness Day/Week/Month/Life: I can't do it

Miss 6s Aspergers diagnosis is like a slowly healing wound.
Mostly I don't really notice it, but now-and-then I bang it,
and THEN I notice.

Autism awareness day/month is banging that very sensitive part of my psyche, big time.
Much to my surprise, actually.
Maybe it's part of the grieving process.
Maybe I'm onto anger, or denial, or something.

I wanted to be involved with give-aways.
I wanted to 'raise awareness.'
I wanted to talk about how every day in my house is autism awareness day.

But then Miss 6 had yet another meltdown,
and we had the therapist at home yesterday,
and she wouldn't eat,
and she doesn't sleep,
and I can't brush her hair,
and she's taken against the Easter Service at school - meaning I'm going to now have to enter into lengthy negotiations and contingency plans to get us all through that hour of existence
and being around her right now is like being around a ticking bomb, as  excitement over Easter, mixes uncomfortably with the change of routine from school to holidays.
In fact being around her is always a ticking time bomb.
I am endlessly balanced on a tightrope.
With no safety net.
All day.
Every day.

And each time I see all the Autism Awareness information out there
I grit my teeth just a little harder
Because this year, to me, its a reminder that
I've been welcomed into a club (so warmly, and with such open arms)
But I don't want to be there
I don't want to deal with all this
I'm over it
I want it to go away
I just want normal
No screaming
Just one day, with no screaming.

Strawberry Mousse - And Clawing Back The Routine

Dessert last night... after a slow-cooked leg of lamb and somewhat firm vegetables because the oven died again (le sigh).

A great big bowl of Strawberry mousse
Strawberries from the garden - eggs from the ladies that morning
Sugar from Coles, origin undisclosed
Low fat cream from Coles and seething in chemicals (yums)

Anyway, quit your salivating, I have important news to announce.

The Routine (the one I'm clawing back) is... working.

Oh dear LORD, are you reading the right blog? Could this be true? Are you about to fall over with delight?? (well I am, about to fall over, with delight, but also because I've got an inner ear infection and my world is going up and down, up and down, ug giddy).

Anyway.  I really thought the routine I was trying to establish was a bit ambitious - but the kids have taken to the change with a good natured willingness that really surprised me.  Of course now its been going for a week or so there is resistance amongst the ranks, but I am squashing the dissent with all the tools I have at my disposal...
This is NOT a democracy, I say, this is a Dictatorship, and anyone, ANYONE, who does not do their chores does not get to open Granny and Grandad's Smurf package on the weekend.

Yes, denial of Smurfs, I am a cruel and heartless monster, this has been pointed out.

Anyhoo.  The routine / chores / indentured servitude still need work, but the first steps have been taken and are a success.  Huzzah.

Next up is tackling the sodding budget, so we have some hope of actually paying off the house before it falls down from old age (or we do), and getting through Christmas with no creddy cards or nervous breakdowns. Yes, I aim high. I know this.

:)

Clawing back the Routine - Part 2: Written Down Routines

We're still in a mess.  Yes, having meals planned and the food in the house has been brilliant.  We are eating better and I'm not in a daily panic about the evening meal.  I'm even having wild thoughts about a FORTNIGHTLY meal plan.  Going to the supermarket once a fortnight - do worlds like this exist?? Can it be true??

Now I did say I'd be doing all this meal planning on Saturdays - but I've changed that so I can resume going to the Hornsby Farmer's Market on Thursday and getting my hands on some high quality, cheap fruit and veg - rather than expensive supermarket crappy stuff.

So Wednesday will be meal planning day and Thursday will be shopping day.

The next step in getting this disaster zone back on track is written-down routines.

At the suggestion of Miss 5s OT Lady we have, for the last few weeks, had an evening routine that looks something like this...

The Going To Bed Routine

Each step is laminated with a velcro dot on the back, so when she's done she can pull it off and put it in the finished box.  Miss 7 has a similar one, but just words, no pictures.

Clawing back the Routine - Part 1: Meal Planning

Following the ups and downs of the last few months, our home routine has descended into having no routine at all.  Haphazardry is the name of the day, chaos reigns and stress levels for this poor weary Mum are flying high.  In addition to this, Aspie kids crave routine, Miss 5 is no exception and changes in routine (or not understanding what's going to happen next) lead to spectacular levels of anxiety followed by meltdown after tantrum.

Nothing is getting done, untidiness is creeping over all the surfaces, I'm making almost daily trips to the supermarket, bills are being forgotten to be paid, budgeting consists of checking the bank balance on my phone before filling up the car with petrol, I've put on 8kgs, the bathroom looks like a public toilet, the clean laundry pile is gigantic, the dirty laundry pile is worse, I have no idea when I last bathed the kids... well you get the picture.

Big fat heaving mess.

Farewell Grandad

My Grandfather passed away last night after a short illness.

He was 95. He had a wonderful life, achieved amazing things, fought in a world war, started a company that is now a household name, and always gave back more than he ever received.

We will all miss him.

So, this is what's been going on...

Hey there my lovelies, ta muchly for hanging about during one of my longest absences in my entire blogging career, and hello to my new followers - resounding silences and blog posts with the dramatic contents of what is about to follow are not usually what Cait Nicholas is all about.  No. Mostly its about doomed attempts at growing things, and bit of kitchenaria, a lot of grumbling on my part, teacups feature as do burnt cakes and NO, even though I am a writer I cannot spot a tyop to save my life.

So here it is...
1. In laws are visiting - life is busy
2. Miss 5 has been diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome - along with a lot of What The Fu**ing on my and hub's part.
3. Grandad is in his last days - or weeks, in usual form the stubborn old thing is doing his own thing at his own speed

I was told, by a psychologist, the other day, that any one of these things would send a frazzled mum over the edge.  And I consider myself so far over the edge just now that not even a vat of red wine would bring me back.  No.  Someone asked me as well, if I'd started the grieving process over Miss 5s diagnosis, to which I replied, that I wasn't sure which grieving process to start first, her or Grandad.

I do not want to talk much about Miss 5, this is not a blog about a kid with a thing, and whilst there will no doubt be reference to the myriad of activities we are undertaking with her, don't expect the subject to come up again.

With Grandad, all I can say is that I know more now about death and the terror of it, than I ever wanted to - and any slim chance that there might have been of my believing in a merciful God, is gone.  Mostly I hover somewhere between wanting to throw up, and wanting to cry until I throw up.

Still. I am here. My sense of humour is still intact. I have so many many people around me to support and listen, I had no idea. No idea. I've even been invited on a pub crawl.

Be back soon. Promise.

Quiet

I'm quiet.  I've got a lot on and I'm stressed and tired, and this is when I lose my words.  There has been a paradigm shift in our lives - nothing tragic or terrible (the kids are fine, no divorces, or illnesses, apart from Granddad and his agonising decline which continues relentlessly, no unemployment) - and I will blog about it all soon, when I can.  But for now I don't have the words, so be patient with me.

And NO, I am not pregnant!!

The garden is in full spring flush, and I'll get some photos up when my damn phone stops losing them - another reason I've been quiet, having photo issues - even when I do have them, due to bloggers ineptitude, it can take me up to 30mins of fiddling to get a photo up here.  It makes me want to scream. Frequently.

Back soon. :)

Happy Imbolc

The pagan festival of Imbolc is around about now (usually 1 or 2 August).  As festivals go, its one of the most delightful.  Its about hearth and home, a celebration of the lengthening days and the early signs of Spring.  Its about fire and food and wriggling out from under the grip of Winter - well, actually, tradition has it that if Cailleach (a divine gaelic hag - basically the Winter Goddess) intends to make winter last longer before giving it up to Brighde (the Summer Goddess), she tricks everyone by making Imbolc a warm and sunny day.  Given that today has been unseasonably hot, methinks it was a wise decision to go the two pallets of firewood and not one.

Here at Chez Nicholas the signs of spring are in the air, mostly because I have flung about 40kgs of dynamic lifter over the garden in the last 24 hours - this is causing the kids playing out in the street to scream 'don't go near the STINKY HOUSE' at each other whenever they get downwind of the place.

Happy Imbolc.  Spring is on its way :)

Happy Yule

Last Tuesday was the Winter Solstice here in Australia.  It was a miserable night (weather-wise), a southerly gale hit Sydney, with freezing temperatures and rain.  So it was a perfect time to put together a Christmassy feast, snuggle in with the family and drink mulled wine.

The paltry remains

We had sandalwood, frankincense and sweet orange in the essential oil burner, and mulled wine warming on the stove, so the house smelled divine.  In a nod to Yule I cooked roast chicken with bread sauce, roast potatoes and pumpkin, gravy and all the trimmings.  Then we had homemade apple pie, with custard.  We lit the room with candles and had the woodfire roaring away in the corner.

Then we wrapped up warm, and went outside to light up the longest night of year with some sparklers.

The kids loved it, and hubs and I loved it too.

:)

Weekend in Our Nation's Fine Capital

Spent the long weekend in Canberra.

Never been so COLD in my life.

We spent most of the time doing this

Was lovely, lovely to be away.  And I like Canberra - there I said it.

Visited:  Parliament House
Kid status:  Underwhelmed
Highlight:  Being x-rayed by security (kids), Seeing Magna Carta (me - no I have no idea why it was there, but it was, yay - I do like an ancient document).

Visited: Carillion
Kid status: Thrilled - due to being able to scooter around the lake
Highlight: Hot chocolate

Visited: National Gallery
Kid status: Bored, annoyed, fighty, sticky
Highlight: Being followed around by our own cordon of security people

Home now and considering 'Famous Person' day at school on Wednesday. Thinking of sending Miss 6 as Margaret Thatcher and Miss 5 as Stevie Nicks, but feel the irony of this portrayal of their respective personalities may be lost on pretty much everyone.

Run-in with T-Rex.

Took the kids to the Australian museum yesterday.

This is not a REAL T-Rex - I would not be smiling like that if it was

Also I am not the only HILARIOUS person in this marriage - PHEW

I made some new friends.

She wasn't very chatty, maybe she didn't like me? People confuse me sometimes

 And was only marginally freaked out by all the dead stuffed things around the place.

Miss 5: "Mummy are they dead?"

All these photos are courtesy of Miss 6.  How awesome is she??

Except this photo, OBVIOUSLY

Was an excellent day :)

On an entirely different note, Romance Australia has posted the first of its updates about the donations going to flood affected libraries in Queensland.  Link Here.  Its a wonderful story.

Did you vote for me yet??

I'm on the first page

Birthday party gifts: cheap not nasty

Now that they are both at school, the screamies get invited to a lot of birthday parties - in a move that is designed to torture poor parents, it is mandatory to invite all kids to your party at their school - we've figured we go to around 20 a year for each child, ie 40 parties.

Thus it is rare to have a weekend that is partyless, and if we do have a free weekend I get quite folorn as I have to find some way to amuse myself other than stealing lollies from the lolly bags.  Oh the tedium. Sigh.

One of the more daunting aspects of all this, is the birthday gift.  Usually gift selection has involved me rushing off to the mall, spending $30 on a gift and another $10 at least on wrapping paper and cards.  (So 40 parties times $40 is $1600, gulp).  The present is wrapped and the child in question signs the card and it is delivered to the party, and that is the end of it.

Its all seemed a bit expensive and pointless to me.  I think its important to get the birthday girl a gift that she will enjoy (so not a load of bunkum from the $2 Shop), and I think the kids should be involved in the selection and preparation of the gift, so that they learn about giving and being excited about giving.


So this time around I headed off to the local op-shop, and we came up with this gift for the extortionate sum of $6.  A bunny basket, teddy bear figurine, two sparkly necklaces and a sparkly bracelet, perfect for a six year old.  

Miss 6 was so excited she couldn't keep her hands off the present and I had to hide it away.

:)

Slipping Away

Granddad has taken a turn for the worse.  At 94 he's done damn well. Incredibly well.  He's still completely compos mentis, lives in a retirement village in his own little flat, does the crossword, fiddles about on the stock exchange (he has a passion for buying and selling stock in mining companies or 'penny dreadfuls' as he calls them) and generally potters along.  But his body is giving up on him.  Yesterday he had a health crisis, and we are hoping and praying (or as close as my family ever comes to praying about anything - we're a bunch of heathens) that he comes through it and is able to live a dignified comfortable life after. 

He's the last of his generation in our family, he fought in WWII ffs, he's still got so much to tell us, so much to hand on.

Growing old is hell.  And I don't mean turning 40.  I mean getting to 85, getting to 90.  Having your address book you've had for fifty years and slowly crossing out every single person in it as they pass away.  Watching your partner die.  Seeing yourself no longer able to do the things you used to love.  Feeling 20 on the inside.

In my role as grandchild there isn't a lot I can contribute at this point - though I'll keep offering, mostly my job is to support my mother, whose selfless dedication to helping both her parents in the twilight of their lives brings me close to tears.  If nothing else, I will be there for her in the same way when its her turn.

A part of me is angry about it all, why does old age have to be so awful?  Why do people who were once strong and vibrant and had the world at their feet, have to endure this deterioration.  But most of me is worried and sad and hoping we're not facing the inevitable now, that its not now, that its later, that its distant and future. Just a few more months, maybe a couple more years if we are lucky, weeks perhaps, we'll just take more. 

Please.

2006

In-Laws and Botulism - just another day at Chez Nicholas

I was only vacuuming around it, honest, and it just... broke.

Its been one of those days, the car electrics went all wonky and it was sure the handbrake was on, when it was off, I chose the leaking milk out of all the milks in the fridge at woolies and didn't realise until I was standing at the checkout, and the coffee table inexplicably split in half.

sigh.

Hubs thinks it's due to suppressed anxiety manifesting itself in a physical sense, but, as we all know, I'm totally crap at suppressing anything (in particular burps, but that's another blog post).  I think it's all just My Life and The Drama that surrounds it.

Am presently coping with the first wave of in-laws, so far so good, though have been googling symptoms of botulism, Just In Case.  Long story, and I'm sure I haven't given them botulism with my nectarine crumble, but one can never be too careful.  If The Worst happens, then you never read this, okay?

In other news, am almighty chuffed that a previous blog rant has been featured on kidspots.com.au's Myspot page.  Link is here.  Just looking at that by-line saying Caitlyn Nicholas makes me go all grin-ny. Have been sending off boastful WOO HOO emails to family and friends all day, most of whom are so under-whelmed that they don't even qualify for the -whelmed bit.  Okay so FINE, Mumndad are swanning about on holiday with my Sister (did I get invited? NO - Such Appalling Favouritism) and don't have time in between Devonshire Teas and Pints of Guinness for lengthy congratulatory emails.  But I still think a bouquet of flowers and a teary telegram is not too much to expect.

sniff.

I had a wet t-shirt and he had wee on his trousers

You can tell that I took the family out in public AGAIN.

So imagine, if you will, that you have spent the morning cleaning bathrooms, wrangling tired and crabby children and pantsing your husband at every opportunity.  Then, you glance at the clock and realise you have to be at the RWAus2010 conference in an hour,  AND that a crucial part of your planned outfit is presently a crumpled heap on the floor and suffering badly from the last time you wore it and forgot to deodorise your right armpit.

That would've been me at around 11am this morning.  Needless to say, aforementioned top was immediately washed. Not on a short wash. No. On a long wash. That I couldn't stop.  Because there wasn't quite enough stress in my life.

Next, fast forward to me, getting in the car with a top just pulled from the washing machine, on a bright cool day with a brisk breeze.  Wretchedly, miserably Cold.

Of course we were running just a smidge late by this point, and so when, Miss 4 announced that she needed a wee when we were surrounded by six lanes of stationary traffic, there was a minor loss of patience on my part (I am an outstanding parent, we all know this).

Having made it to a quiet side street, hubs lost the coin toss and ended up being 'the assistant.'  We were on a steep hill and within moment his left shoe found itself placed, somewhat unfortunately, downstream.

There was a great deal of surprisingly athletic hopping on his part, a deeply disconcerted Miss 4, who nevertheless continued to perform like a professional, and unkind snickering from me. The entire situation came to a climax with a howl of distress from hubs as the tide curled up over his shoe, soaked itself into his jeans, his sock and dribbled inside his shoe.

When we arrived at the conference my top was still damp and clingy and, well, hubs squelched slightly as he walked. An irresistible pair.

sigh.

94 Yesterday

Yesterday was off to the rellies for Granddad's 94th Birthday.  Yes. 94 and kicking along quite nicely.  Was vastly enjoyable to see extended family, presently overflowing with ankle-biters and rug-rats. Also scoffed vast amounts of chocolate cake.

Kids back at school today, thank GOD. Break from school routine was lovely, but was extremely ready to send children back to school and turns out they were extremely happy to be going.  One vast improvement is that I have actually had time today to get to the supermarket and buy batteries for my camera - so stay tuned for garden photos in the near future.

So as I mentioned somewhere in my somewhat ranty last post, hubby has a new job.  Much rejoicing and excitement our house.  Mostly because we are going to have some money finally.  The most major change (apart from being able to pay the mortgage) is that I can get my eyebrows shaped AND get a haircut. Yes. It's all about me. I see this.

:)