Thursday, 31 May 2012

Top 10 Tips for Moving House

1Celebrate finally finding a house bigger than a shoebox by having a glass of bubbles.

2. Find a whole bunch of empty cardboard boxes and newspapers so you are ready to start packing

3. De-clutter, de-clutter, de-clutter

4. Get bored with de-cluttering and have a glass of bubbles instead

5. Realise you only have 4 weeks until moving day and start panicking

6. Realise you have too much stuff to possibly contemplate packing so sit down in front of the tv with a glass of bubbles instead

7. When your husband tells you not to pack all the books into one box so that it’s too heavy to lift, throw a tantrum and refuse to pack another thing!

8. Grab out the newspapers to start wrapping glasswear – get distracted and start reading the newspapers – who has time to do that normally.  Realise an hour has gone by, you’ve only wrapped one glass and now it’s time to pick the kids up from school – crap.

9. Prepare to start packing again only to realise that the kids have stolen all the boxes and turned them into a giant fort.

10.Decide it’s all too hard – can’t we just stay in our shoebox and rent out the new house we just bought?


Tuesday, 29 May 2012

The Interview Process - Part 2

Filled with confidence after the Interview Process Part 1, we embarked on the Interview Process Part 2.
This time “11 Year Old Lounging on Couch” was to spend the day at another prospective high school as part of a “taster day”.  The idea is that the kids get to spend the day at the school in the hope that it will give them a “feel” for high school and maybe take away some of the fear.

The children were asked to wear their current school uniform to the high school.  This meant that I got to spend the evening prior running around the house screaming at my family that surely, surely somewhere in our shoebox of a house there had to be a pair of school trousers that did not have a hole worn through the knee.

You would think that the family would respond to my shrieks, but apparently whatever was being cooked on Masterchef was far more appealing that my shrieks about school uniforms, either that or my family suddenly no longer understood simple English and have all taken up a second language.

Luckily for me though, I’ve found that by simply walking past the TV at the exact moment of intense drama and flicking the off button on the TV – yes, on the actual TV, not the remote, that then sends the whole family into their own world of panic – hee hee. 

Not that they were any help anyway.  I was presented with 3 more pairs of school trousers, all with holes, and one even covered in mud – “from the cool sliding tackle I did mum”.....hmmmmm

So of course then it’s the crazed SOS text message to the girlfriends – does anyone have a pair of school trousers without holes?  Anyone????

Luckily we were saved and I even managed to convince the 11 year old to brush his hair.  This time the motto “I’ll just put a hat on” would not cut it.

So after dropping off “middle child syndrome” and “tornado terror” we were off to Taster Day.  My beat-up heap of crap (aka Ford Territory) pulled into the car park and instantly put all the glistening BMW’s and Merc’s to shame.

The school we visited actually starts at kindergarten, but we can’t even contemplate the crippling fees until high school.  The reason I mention this is that our day started with a French lesson.  The children already attending this school are already learning French.  The lesson was taught in French, the kids spoke French, the teacher spoke French, while Master 11 sat there looking confused and yawning a lot.  Thankfully I was on the ball and had already decided I had a clear shot with my notebook should he actually nod off.

French lesson over and then it was off to check out the Japanese class.  Thankfully this was more of a level playing field as none of the kids could speak Japanese so they all looked confused together.

From there it was drama, design and finally cooking.  A lovely lady wearing a full chef’s outfit explained to the kids the importance of washing hands and keeping your hair tied back out of your face when preparing a meal as no one wants hair in their dinner do they?

Apparently not, as could be seen by my child turning his head to face me and giving me the “are you listening mother” look. 

Of course “the look” was witnessed by the other mothers in attendance.  “Did your son just give you a look?”  Ah, yes he did.  Apparently long strands of hair are not supposed to be disguised as a new type of pasta – who knew?

We had made it to lunchtime and it was time for the parents to leave for a few hours before returning at 3.20pm sharp to collect the children.

Great, 90 min of freedom with no children.  I’m sure I passed a little shopping village down the road where lunch was calling me and a cup of coffee I could actually drink while it was still hot.

At 3.10pm I realised my little slice of heaven was over and it was time to head back to school.  Quick turn of the ignition and heap of crap (aka Ford Territory) decided it didn’t want to start did it!

Try again.....tick tick tick tick tick


Try again.....tick tick tick tick tick

Swear ...... again

Try again.....tick tick tick tick tick

By now it’s 3.15pm and the horrible realisation set in that I was going to have to run back to school.

Now, those of you that know me would understand the utter terror that would have presented me with. 

I don’t run!

In fact, I don’t walk, let alone run!  No seriously, I have this horrible horrible allergy to any form of exercise at all – unless there is a shoe sale on and then I might be able to master up a bit of a power walk.

So there I am in my boots with heels, running up not one but two hills while the glistening BMW’s and Mercedes passed me by.  I even had a stitch!!!!  I finally make it to the pick up point at 3.25pm looking like I had just stepped out of a sauna and could only manage a wave and a cough towards the teacher. 

Trust me, when you have just run 100km’s (felt like that anyway) and you have a stitch, it’s very hard to talk.

My ever-reliable 11 year old of course asked what on earth was wrong with me and with a complete look of horror on his face announced that there was no way on earth he was going to walk all the way back to the car.

I think my look of “I just ran 100km’s back to the school to get you – AND I DON’T RUN” soon put any more thoughts of complaint to the side.

So back we trudged to heap of crap (aka Ford Territory) and I pressed speed dial on my phone to the NRMA (have to have them on speed dial when you have a Territory).

20min later and $190 for a new battery and we were on our way home again.

And before you ask, no, there will be no interview process part 3.  I am now officially done.

Tuesday, 22 May 2012

The Interview Process - What A Nightmare!

My eldest son starts high school next year which fills me full of dread on a whole new level.

I still feel like he is my baby – an 11 year old baby, and I am most definitely NOT ready for him to start high school.

I still remember as clear as day taking him to his first day at Primary School and now here we are 6 ½ years later preparing for high school and the start of what I will call “The Interview Process”.

This process started off exceedingly well for us.  Whilst dropping my youngest child at daycare earlier in the week I received a phone call from the prospective high school asking if everything was alright as we had missed our interview slot the evening before.

OMG!!!  You know that moment where everything just stops and you can’t even get your brain into gear long enough to come up with a fabulous excuse involving the cast of Revenge and a glass of wine......hmmmmm.   In actual fact with everything that had been going on the last week I simply forgot.

And considering we are the non-practicing Catholic family applying to a Catholic school my repeated “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god” probably wasn’t the best response I could have come up with at the time either.

Luckily however the lady was extremely understanding and we were able to reschedule for later in the week. 

So now it’s time for interview process Take 2.

We sat down with a lovely young teacher who I believe was the Year 11 Adviser.  He put us at ease instantly, this could be seen by the way my son lounged back on the couch as if he was settling in for an episode of iCarly. Let me tell you, it’s very hard to make evil death stares at your child which is supposed to translate into ‘will you stop lounging on the couch and sit up!!!” when you have the teacher sitting right in front of you.

Said teacher then starts what we call the “interview” by simple chit chat, whilst actually jotting down notes and saying “hmmmm” to himself. 

So, let me set the scene of how the questions went:

Teacher:   So, what makes you want to come to {Insert School Name Here}?

11 Year Old Child Lounging on the Couch:  Because my best friend goes here.

(of course, why bother with small talk about the wonderful education offered at the school – your mate goes to the school – what other reason is there to go?)

Teacher:  And what are your favourite subjects at school?  What do you like best?

11 Year Old Child Lounging on the Couch:   Cricket.  Oh, and footy.

(Hmmm, yes because if Michael Clarke hadn’t studied 10th grade cricket he would never have become the captain of the Australian cricket team).

Teacher:  yes, well lets put them down as hobbies.  What subjects do you like? 

11 Year Old Child Lounging on the Couch:  Ummmmmmm

Teacher:  Maths?

11 Year Old Child Lounging on the Couch:  Ummmmmmm

Teacher:  Science?

11 Year Old Child Lounging on the Couch:  Ummmmmmm

(Seriously!!!!!!!  Just shoot me now someone.  PLEASE!!!!)

Now thrown into the disaster that was my couch-lounging 11 year old’s interview is the 2 year old tornado running around the office throwing balls and repeatedly yelling “NO!!!!!” at me every time I asked him to stop throwing the ball in the nice teacher’s office. 

Finally the train-wreck interview process was over, and with desperate wails of, oh, did you tell the nice man you are house captain, and what about the school band, oh and didn’t you get an award for great colouring in when you were in kindy???????

Yes, the interview was over and up jumped couch-lounging 11 year old to race out the door and kick a footy around.  And you know what, whether he gets in or whether he doesn’t, it’s really not important.  As long as he is happy, healthy and has great friends around him that’s all that matters......oh, and as long as the school has a cricket team.


Thursday, 17 May 2012

Celebrity Style

Ok, so blatant self promotion is not something I normally do here on our purely4kids blog - it's more about me dealing with the chaos that is my life - LOL.

But.......who doesn't love a bit of celebrity gossip and style?  Go on, you can admit it here, I won't tell anyone.

Well we thought in keeping in line with what purely4kids is all about, fashionably cool kids clothing from outstanding Australian designers, we could have some fun with it.

Check out this fab photo of Heidi Klum and her daughter looking pretty as a picture in her pink tutu.

Hmm, not sure about Heidi's pants though.

Your little girl can look this sweet too thanks to Alex & Ant, Willow & Finn and Rosie Roo.

Here's how.



Ta da!!!  What do you think?  Pretty cute huh!

Which celebrity do think has the most stylish kid around?  Do Heidi Klum's pants scare you too or is it just me?

Friday, 11 May 2012

I Am Never Moving House Again

So, after 2 weeks of absolute stress I think I can finally take a breath.

Firstly, I must apologise to our many wonderful purely4kids followers, friends and customers for being a complete scatterbrain the last few weeks.

In addition to my littlest monster’s accident, we’ve been trying to buy a house.

For those of you that follow my blog you will know we were completely undecided as to whether we should sell up and move or whether we should renovate.  We had reached that point where our little 3 bedroom house just wasn’t working for us anymore with 3 boys, hubby, me and our crazy cat – let’s not mention the dog for now.

Well, after months of putting up with my children's complaints and whinges as we dragged them to open home after home after home, as we became more and more disillusioned with the fact that everything was either out of our price range, or it needed to be blown up and started again, we have finally found a house – woo hoo.

To be clear, we actually found the house about 2 weeks ago – and so started my campaign of stress, fear, tears, fights, and general psychoticness – thank you to my totally beautiful Purely4kids business partner Kim for putting up with me (I’m sure she was secretly picturing a giant meteor exploding from the sky and squishing me Ally McBeal style – lol).

But......the deal is done........we have paid our 5% deposit – no cooling off period – the auction has been cancelled – no more open homes to worry about – it’s ours and we are now officially broke – omg!!!!!

My New House - ha - I wish....... {Image Credit}

So, I’d now like to have it on the record that if you ever hear me talk about the possibility that we may want to move one day down the track I give you all permission to yell at me via whatever means you wish, whether it be Facebook, our blog, twitter, email – however you see fit – but just make sure you remind me of what a totally horrible process this was and I am NEVER EVER moving again!!!!!

Let the fun job of selling our house and moving begin!


Thursday, 3 May 2012

A Mothers Guilt

I was so unsure if I should share this post - it meant admitting that I failed as a mum this week.

My youngest had an accident on Sunday morning, and while the rational part of my brain knows it wasn't my fault, the part of my brain that I seem to use the most, is racked with guilt. Little Nate is fine, but it could have been so much worse - so much so that I don't even want to think about it.  

He needed a trip to emergency and received 4 stitches to his forehead, but ........again, it could have been worse. I've spent so much of the last few days either in tears or having a sliding doors moment.......if only, if only, if only.  I know it doesn't serve any purpose, it just drives us crazy, but I can't stop it.

Without going into too much detail about what actually happened, for reasons I also won't go into here (you just never know who could be reading this), we are now also faced with an awful decision to make based on what happened. (Let's just say a much loved little pet is involved).

As mums we spend so much of our day in a crazy whirlwind of life, running to appointments, trying to keep the house in some kind of order, making sure everyone has clean undies to wear, that it just feels like sometimes we aren't really there, that we've failed in some way.  I know that's certainly how I feel at the moment.  If I'd been more aware of where he was and what he was doing instead of focussing on the load of washing I had to put on, maybe it would never have happened.  

See, it's that non-rational part of my brain taking over again.  I know in time this will be notched up to another one of those childhood accidents, like falling off a bike, or getting hurt during the footy game, and his injury will heal till there is nothing left but a tiny scar. Until then, I just have to try and deal with it as best I can.