Body Talk

Does you body speak to you? When you are abusing it or neglecting your God given temple, does it let you know? Mine does, subtlety, not in a creepy old testament kind of way. - though that would be funny, I can only imagine what mine would say..

Bottom- " Get thee to the gym woman, seriously we are growing to large and long back here...

My Liver would whisper- " hey Lady, the FDA recommends ONE glass of red wine per day...not 12."

Ears- "Yes, it is possible to listen to the Twilight sound track too loudly while cleaning...."

okay, but that is not what I was talking about, My body whispers to me, nudges me to give it what it needs, and then screams, moans and creaks if I ignore the subtle whispers.

Today it was in the form of a craving, A little inclination that I had been over doing the " low fat" aspect of my recent diet. My body needed fat, energy, and no ordinary fat at that, I needed something whole, pure and indulgently fatty. I searched the cupboards, ate a few walnuts. when that didn't do the trick, I considered Shortening, - it was the mouth feel, I wanted, but certainly not the flavor...besides, we don't keep Crisco in the house- and I'm not dressed to visit Horny Devils boutique today ( don't ask)

Finally I settled on a perfectly ripe, perfectly shaped Avocado, chock full of fatty acids and with a delicious buttery velvet texture. A simple sprinkling of salt and squirt of lime, and I dug in.
I should have stopped after a few bites, it was rich, but I don't do anything halfway-and besides it was good! I devoured the entire thing. And now I feel a bit nauseated, but I can't throw up, because imagine what that would look like, spewing baby poo from my mouth, it would make me vomit-Again. And the cycle would continue, forever.

Are you wondering why we are friends right now? I thought so.

Boobs, Boobs and more Boobs

Ive had quite an education in breastfeeding and Nursing in public since moving to Alice, if you know me, you know I am a champion of breastfeeding, and advocate of nursing in public,nursing in general, how ever you like, for as long as you like. I thought I was up on my breastfeeding 101.

It is uncommon to walk more than a block here in Alice, with out being exposed to some form of nudity or indecency...a man in his underwear by the side of the road, some one taking a pee on a tree by the river, little naked kids playing in a puddle outside a town camp, you name it I;ve seen it.

I have, however been exposed to an entirely new kind of nursing in public. Be honest, most nursing mothers have accidentally flashed an unsuspecting old lady, or startled gentleman in the mall, at a restaurant, or what ever...we simply blush, smile, and promptly get back to feedin our squalling babes. There's not much that can be done about it, short of wearing a Birka or one of those cape like nursing aprons, breasts are natural and beautiful and people can just get ahold of themselves about it.

I love the natural parenting vibe in Australia, the low key, approach to parenting and childbirth...I have however reached my limits in viewing natural parenting. The local indigenous people here, seem to be very " breast is best" oriented, this I love. The culture has enough things to overcome, I delight in seeing Moms and nursing babies nearly anywhere...

But these Aboriginal Moms have come up with a NIP tactic I have yet to see before now, lets call it the " Pull your giant boobie out of your collar, and let it hang there" style. Imagine, a breast as big as your head, Nipples the size of dinner plates, swinging gently in the breeze, or in the check out isle, where ever. Sometimes there is a hungry baby or toddler blocking most of this interesting view, often not, no matter...let them hang...the poor check out man, nearly drops the milk trying not to stare, who can blame him, I can't stop either...I actually would like to snap a photo...

its like a little piece of National Geographic right in your front yard. Its hard not to oggle, or at least elbow your husband, who after the 10th time has lost interest in giant swinging boobies. I just can't get over it. Its not exactly obscene, but fascinating.

My kids are past the shock and awe, but Noah still likes to point on occasion, last week in church he asked me LOUDLY " Mama, do you still have milk in your boobies?" I shook my head and tried not to melt into the pew... then he declared " Every one loves boobs" Amen, thank God for Boobs.

So I'm obviously already neglecting this blog....so much for new and improved. I'm in a funk, seriously, and I can't manage to snap my self out of it-I know what I want to do, what I should be doing, how I want to behave, but most days I wake up and -ugh- the funk prevails.

Everyone keeps telling me to " hang in there" and " just give it time" and I am, I swear...but by Gosh I'm gettin older here, and I just want to go home. I'm over my desire for adventure, I think. I'm at least over Alice. I fantasise about how if I just snapped out of it, and did x y, z...we would all be fine, but that's a fantasy, and the reality -bites.

Chad is back to shift work, which I hate, we literally never see him during his set, even on days he doesn't get home til 8:30, the kids are in bed, and I'm cranky, starving and tired by then, on night shifts, he sleeps all day, and has to leave early to get some gym time in, so we live for the off set, like some people live for weekends. I was spoiled by the cushy day shift he had in Denver, no nights, no weekends, and no Holidays and home by 5pm most nights..

enough whining? okay me too.

I hope everyone in the states is having a great Easter, we did! On Friday. With my magical Mommy wand, I was able to re-arrange time and space to accommodate my husbands work schedule, and produce an Easter fest we could all be in on. I did forget that it was good Friday, and that put the kibosh on my grand Easter dinner plan, Honey baked Easter fish is just not as appealing. Chad and I dutifully hid the eggs Thursday night, and assembled the obscene amount of toys in, around, behind and near the kids baskets...and went to bed.

We expected to awake to squeals of glee in the am, but since Noah snuck in bed with us sometime in the night, we all slept in. He must have made a detour on his journey down the hall to sneak a peek, because Chad said he opened his eyes, looked over and Whispered " I got a triceratops" and bolted from the bed. He woke up his sister, and they dumped candy, toys and Easter grass all over the table, while I fixed coffee and breakfast.

Only after consuming our body weight in chocolate, did we decided to hunt eggs.

After the last egg was found, we made some phone calls home using our new vonage phone, and lazed around. We went to the park....then to this little hole in the wall fish and chips joint for some take away to bring back to the park, man this place was the BOMB, for when ever you are trying to induce weight gain, irritable bowl syndrome or simply induce a coronary...anything you want fried, they got it. awesome french fries, fish, chicken, spring rolls, fried corn, deep fried hot dogs, bananas, pineapple,the works. and it was pretty cheap too. love it! now if they would just add fried cheese, snickers and Twinkies to the menu, I could promptly gain 800lbs.

After the park we went out to the telegraph station ( a picnic type park, with trails) to walk off some of our food, spotted some kangaroo's and then came home greasy, fat and exhausted. It was a good day.

We had another unexpected visitor, this time IN the house....thank you to my commenter who pointed out this is NOT in fact a tarantula, but a huntsman spider, but between you and me any spider bigger than a hamburger is in fact, a tarantula.

The kids and I celebrated " real Easter" today, by dyeing, and coloring eggs, watching movies, and playing in the yard. I have a ham in the crock pot all drowning in brown sugar...add some Kraft Mac and cheese ( a luxury item round here) and some other fixins, and Easter dinner it is!

these are " hot rock" eggs, I found the idea from THE CRAFTY CROW a crafting blog, I love and aspire to use more. We are going to try this with rocks too soon. Basically you dye some eggs, and while they are still burning hot color on them with crayons, and then sprinkle some crayon shavings on top, I popped our back in the oven for a few secs to melt them a little more. A quick layer of modge podge or lacquer keeps them shiny, I didn't have any, so FYI cooking spray works too.

Hope you all have an exhausting, fat and happy Easter too!

Australia Sucks

Its been four months now, and I would be lying if I said I was starting to like it here or that it was beginning to feel like home. What is it specifically that I hate....well, the heat for sure. We are on day 19 of temps above 35 degree's ( 95 degrees in the real world), and I'm not sure we have had a day below 89 degrees in 4 months...its getting old.



the bugs, the spiders, the giant lizards my neighbors cat keeps leaving in my back yard. The weird people, the lack of friends and family..I could go on, but then I would be whining.



The biggest issue, is that this place makes me feel totally flustered and inept a great deal of the time. I normally consider myself a pretty capable person, I mean I have managed pretty well in life until now. I can mow the grass if needed, work a weed eater, change a light bulb, air up a tire, lower the kids bike seats, travel through crowded airports with kids, paint a decent picture, follow a recipe...you know, I can do stuff.

Here....I can't even check the mail, because I can't reach the box. Well I can reach it, but I can't See the dial to turn the combination, and I can't even remember the combination anyway.



I'm also still not that great of a driver or Parker, parallel parking did not get any easier, when my car got smaller as I thought it would.



I still don't know my way around all that well....sure I can get to the school, target, Kmart, the grocery store and the ballet studio....but I got lost trying to find the YMCA on wed, I just could not find the damn place, and it pissed me off. We drove around for so long, the fuel light came on, and damn if I could find a Gas station....there are only like 2 in this town, and I couldn't remember where either of them were.
I finally did find one, with ancient looking pumps, and of course I tried to pay before I pumped, like you do in normal countries...and of course the attendants laughed at me, and rolled his eyes.On normal cars you just open the fuel door, but in weirdo Australia there is a button inside the car to do this, and in the REAL world people don't steal your gas pump while you are trying to find said stupid button. And in the real world, the stupid pump won't squirt gas unless you have the nozzle properly situated into the tank right? Not here.
So of course I sprayed gasoline all over my entire body and the car. At this point I may or may not have dropped the F-BOMB a few times, and shouted at my kids to shut up, when they asked me what was wrong. and I may or may not have screamed like a lunatic and clawed at my face when a fly kept landing on it while I tried to drive home, sobbing and fuel-soaked.





and certainly, NEVER EVER in the real world is there a TARANTULA in your car, after you pick up your kid from school. But here....there is.

I'm just not sure about this place....

I'm a terrible Mother

Last night in our nightly dinner battle, the one where at least one of my children refuses to eat what I cooked, Noah was excused from the table and sent to bed early. After everyone was finished and the kitchen was clean I could still hear him wailing and whimpering, because no one had tucked him in. So I scooped him off the floor, swaddled him in his softie and climbed in to bed next to him. Then I brushed his hair with a little barbie brush until he fell asleep. Because he likes that. I'm a terrible Mother.

Taylor Grace

Ode to Taylor-

Bio- Born September 27, 2002 at Wright Patterson Air Force Base by emergency c-section, after 27 hours of grueling back Labor, Taylor was born weighing a hefty 8lbs 2 oz, and was 19 inches long. My most memorable moments of Taylor's birthday are hearing her cry the first time, whilst lying on the O.R table with tears pouring down my face.. And being so surprised that she was so pretty, seriously the kid was born looking like an Olive skinned cherub, with little rosebud lips to boot. I had expected a little wrinkled old man newborn....not this kid, I should have known right away of the girly-ness that would only grow as time went on.

Interesting facts about Taylor

- The kid HATES mashed potatoes, and always has. She wretched the first time I tried to feed them to her, at 9 months old, and she still wretches. This gag reflex has grown to include most types of vegtables as well.

- She can put her feet on top of her head, this may be a useful trick to hold on too.

- She is quite the Social Butterfly at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart College, each day as I drop her off or pick her up, I hear a chorus of...Hi Tay-lor, Bye Taylor, and little girls of all shapes and sizes run to hug her, or grab her hand and drag her off.

- She loves snakes and reptiles, and jumps at the chance to hold such creepy crawlies given the chance...much to my dismay.

- She didn't walk until she was 15 months old, out of sheer stubborn-ness, When I tried to get her to take a step she would throw her self on the ground, and launch into a dramatic tantrum, this was a prelude to the future obstacles I would face as her Mother. When she finally did decide to walk, she simply stood up and started strolling around, no shaky first steps, no toddling about, she looked as though she had been walking for years....Taylor still prefers to do only things she can excel at immediately, and gets frustrated when she has to actually try or practice. But once she gets the hang of it, she rises to professional levels at astounding speeds.

- She can be sweet, stubborn,dramatic, reverent, sassy, intelligent and understanding, ditsy and ridiculous...all in the same day, she constantly keeps me on my toes, challenges my parenting ability to new levels everyday, and makes our lives a lot more interesting.

My recent favorite Taylorism- After being asked to come in from playing for Dinner, and responding to me in a less than obedient manner, she was sent to her room for some quiet refection ie; time out. She emerged wailing dramatically, tears streaming spouting " I'm no good, I'm not good enough to live, I should never have been born...I can't do anything...wahhaaahaha".

Had I not experienced this kind of Oscar worthy performance before, I would have been alarmed my my mini-manic depressive drama queen, but because I am her mother, and I know her. I simply told her to shut down the drama factory immediately,That silliness was not going to help her avoid punishments, gave her a hug, told her I loved her more than life, and to go eat her chicken. It, of course worked, and she was happily gabbing through the rest of dinner.

Last week she convinced her little brother that she had a " poisonous marker" in her room, that could kill you if you got its ink on your skin. Of course she threatened to write on him with it if he didn't get out of her room, sending him screaming in terror...

And life goes on......

I'm certain it is a bit Narcissistic of me to expect life to pause, cease to change and stand still for the three years that we are away, but I wish it would. I hate to miss anything, and sometimes I feel as though we are missing everything as life goes on with our family and friends back home.

My Brother had his first baby earlier this week, and I am not there to hug and spoil and kiss my new nephew, to pass on words of motherly advice to my sister in law who is also expecting her first baby this summer.

I suppose our families feel the same way, while we are here the kids continue to grow, to change and celebrate birthdays and holidays...by the time we come home Taylor will be 9 years old, and Noah a 6 year old first grader. I can't even conceive of how they will be changed, and it makes me sad and happy all at the same time.

I'm trying to savour every moment that passes, record and archive it all, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Because like it or not life goes on....