Take This Waltz:: Date Night

My Mum and Dad are looking after the smalls for the weekend - Matt and I drove back together on Friday, and I must say, life feels very empty without the little peeps.

So last night we went to the movies. Old school date night. We're fancy and crazy like that. I wore Matt's jumper and my Chucks. Hardly dressed up, but goodness, it was so nice to hang together and not have to worry about our littles.

Anyone who follows PottyMouthMama on Facebook knows that I love Michelle Williams. I never ever watched Dawson's Creek, so I only know her from Heath Ledger love and a great selection of indie films.

'Take This Waltz' is a beautiful demonstration of Michelle Williams.

I felt like I was part of the movie. It's beautiful and raw, sad yet very funny, and it will make your heart ache.

Plus there is the deliciously talented eye candy of Luke Kirby. Say hello to Luke Kirby. His sparkly eyes are tres magnifique (this photo doesn't do justice to the magnificence that is Luke Kirby).

But back to the movie. So, so good. I want to see it again. Visually it's a pleasure. And ever since walking out Matt and I have been talking about it. It was that, that good.

Have you seen any good movies lately?  Next on my hit list is Hysteria.

Tides Are Changing

Last time I wrote about the juggle of life - of working, of parenting, of wife-ing, I received a comment from a helpful anonymous commenter that "you chose this and you should suck it up". Clearly that wasn't verbatim - but it might as well have been.

Needless to say, I shut up about talking about family life - and since then I've shied away from sharing family life.

But the thing is, I think that's what most people can relate to.

This term brings another new change for our little family. A new and fresh load of guilt for me to either drown in, or choose to swim to the surface, flap about and save our souls. I'm choosing the latter.

Recently Matt was announced a semi-finalist in the Moran Portrait Prize (bravo Matt!), and within the same week he scored a really, really great job. It had been a long distance between good things for us. It's been a tough year, despite all the hilarity I can muster, it's stretched us to our limits trying to make ends meet, and trying to juggle the mundane.

The flip side was this.

Tiny goes to preschool Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.
Matt's job is going to be Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. 
I work Tuesday - Friday.
The Doctor goes to school five days a week.
Can you see the gap there? The gaping big hole in our week?

Luckily I could switch my day off. So I did. I'll be hanging with Tiny on Thursdays now, and joining the hordes battling Monday-itis.

By design we both work part-time so someone is home with the kids. That is our choice. We chose to have less of an income because family life is the priority for us. And now things are shifting, and we've got to shift with them, and move, like sands through the hourglass.

We've got Tiny going to a different preschool on Fridays - which weighs heavy on my heart. Her current preschool couldn't take her for another day, so I see this as a test. If it doesn't work - we will have to shift again. We'll change things around, switch things up. And I still need to find a solution for an afternoon school pick ups.

I wish I could ask someone at school to pick up my kids one day a week. But since I work - I haven't really struck up any relationships with other mothers to go out on a limb and ask. And it's a big ask, isn't it? To ask someone to take my children home once a week. Is it? Isn't it? I don't know. I've lost perspective now because this change feels so immense for us. I feel the distance even more acutely I think because I am at work. I leave early and don't get home 'til late. The distance and disconnection between work life and family life can be spectacularly damning.

The whole idea that it takes a village to raise a family is an awfully romantic notion. But Matt and I are playing dual-triple-quadruple roles of Mayor, Town Crier (that's me), counsellor, worker bee - we are the village people.

I wish things could have stayed as they were. They were hard, but we had our routine. The smalls had one of us. But I guess this is an evolution of our family life.

This is not a pity party. This is me grappling with what to do next. What's our next move?

the image is Tiny and her cousin P's culinary adventure in the garden this morning. They were cooking. Boy, those little girls, they love to cook.

Of Death and Blogging

The big news here is that my computer has died. It's died party people. Well for now at least.

So there's your reason why I've been blogging sporadically.

I have to divert Matt's attention - point and say: 'look, look over there' - and while he's distracted trying to determine what I am pointing at, I grab his computer, hack into his mainframe, fire off a few tweets, read my emails, and then quickly give him back his computer.

It's a sad and sorry state of affairs.

What's a gal to do but go to bed early and re-read The Great Gatsby, and get some beauty sleep?

You can find me on Instagram though (@pottymouthmama). Until I figure out a solution to my dead computer problemo.

image via here. Someone really, really loved their computer.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVER!

Today is Matt's birthday. 


In celebration, I will probably jump out of a cake. I am totally understated like that. 


Happy Birthday lover. I'm glad we've finally settled on the fact that I am the funny one. 


image via here

Stuff. On My Bedside.

I have a mountain of stuff on my bedside table. Actually, a lot of it is Matt's stuff, because I decided we were swapping sides. Why? Because every single night one of the smalls would come in and wake me up. Every night. I got so exhaustipated that I said we had to do a "side exchange". Much like being an exchange student in a foreign land, I am now sampling the delights that are the other side of world bed. As part of this exchange I have inherited a whole stack of Matt's books, art catalogues and reading matter. 


On his side are some disinfectant wipes that are still there since Tiny had the vomiting lurgy. And another stack of books and some dust bunnies. It's a home interiors photographic dream, quite frankly. 


But back to my side. I have my nightly must-haves. Hand cream (this Aesop hand cream was gifted to me sometime again, and my goodness, it is certainly one of my favourites). And Blistex. I HAVE to have lip balm on before I go to sleep. Or I can not, will not go to sleep. I know. Go figure.


It's all part of my nightly ritual.


I also have a stack of newspapers next to my bed. I still read the news old school. I like the smell of newspaper, I love a broadsheet, and I keep those weekend papers there for the week so I can suck out the marrow of the news for the week. 


I am crazy like that.


What's on your bedside? 

Fairies. And The Like.

A few million years ago, when I worked doing PR for a big department store, I had a friend in one of the book buyers. She used to gift me books that she didn't want. It was a happy relationship. I love books, and I loved chatting with her.


Let's fast-forward a few years, to two nights ago, when Tiny asked me if she could look at my fairy book. I didn't remember telling her I had any fairy books, but I remembered, way back in my brain's archives that that book buyer had gifted me this awesome fairy book many years before. I went trawling through our bookshelves and found it. I'd never actually read it - except to know it was about fairies. 


Tiny was in fairy heaven. 


But not only that, it's a book about fairies AND fashion. Tiny's two giant passions. 


To illustrate this even further, just prior to Easter, Tiny was walking around the house saying something like: "I'm a fashionista for Easter". I have no idea where this came from. But she'd been brainwashed by something or someone and was living Karl's dream. 


Last night Tiny - after about 76 tantrums, finally crawled into bed with Matt, to be calmed into a sweet four year old bliss reading Fairie-ality. 


And then she finally went to sleep. She's so beautiful when she's sleeping. 

It's Showtime, Baby

We went to the Sydney Royal Easter Show on Saturday - as guests of the new Samsung Galaxy Note. 


During the day we visited almost every animal known to man, including this heck of a cute goat, who we creatively named Billy the Kid - he slayed me. I wanted to keep that little kid. Tiny cried over Billy the Kid. The Doctor adored Billy the Kid. And Matt stood there like the Tin Man. He did not find his heart. Until I forced a cup of baby goat food into his hand and I damn well made him feed the baby animals. 


Finally we had to wean Billy the Kid from our tender-loving-care, and walked on to see ducks tumbling into ponds, chickens hatching, sheep headbutting other sheep, alpacas being judged, a cow doing a wee, and other amazing sights. 


We watched skaters shredding the rad at the Monster park. We had our portraits done at the Samsung stand (more on that laterz) - where I learnt I have a massive nose and huge, superhero like chin. Fist pump! The Doctor had a parrot on his head. We watched the pooches getting preened. 


And then I won worst mother of the year when I declared we were not, under any circumstances going to be getting showbags. Harsh, I know. Well the Doctor was so dirty at me, when we asked if he had had a good day he replied: "Not really," and then slunk off like an emo six year old. He didn't talk to me the whole drive home. 

An Ugly Photo Of My Feet

We've hit the frog and toad, and we're out of town for Easter. But not before I tipped a chair over that fell onto my foot. A full throttle blow that continued to bruise throughout the day. Poor, poor me.


Please drag out the world's smallest violin. 


I'd planned a weekend full of running/walking - wogging (walking x jogging) until this accident has left me like a limp biscuit.


Anyhoot - poor me aside. It's so nice to be in the country air. Gives me a chance to further brainwash Matt into letting our little family move to the country. Life in the country is good. Slowed down. No traffic jams. No hither and thither. Country air. Life is good. 


I'm going to soak up this weekend - soak in the heat, the goodness, and the chocolate. 


Happy Easter my friends. I hope you have a safe and happy time with friends and family. 


PS - another apology for my ugly foot shot. I know, I know. Poor form PMM.

Some Snaps: Some Week

I have had a crazy busy week and feel as though I have whiplash as a result.

Early to work, late home. Oh man - I have never felt so blitzed. Well I have. But not for a long time. Totally spent. I have barely seen the smalls and Matt his week - and that my friends takes the wind out of my sails.

Date night was Monday night and it was one of our best ever. Without doubt, date night was the highlight of my week.
Matt and I even held hands. ZOMG! WTF!

Outrageous I know. A PDA on date night. Well, around these parts it's mandatory.

Do You... Tattoo?

Once Tiny asked to see Matt's 'tutus'. It took a moment for him to realise she was wanting to see his tattoos.

I've flirted with the idea of getting a tattoo. But only momentarily. I think I'd get sick of it, and I just don't think it's for me. And basically, I am just a big scaredy cat.

But I like tattoos on other people. Well - content and placement dependent.

And then there's Tiny - who gets felt tip pens and scrawls tattoos all over her body, then rocks up to pre-school - hey guys she's done her own ink. She doesn't need to wait until she's 18. She's forging paths for other only just turned four year olds to make their mark.

I've seen this floating about on Facebook. It's kind of funny - and true, non?

Do you have a tattoo? If so, what is it of?

And Then.

I was planning to write something profound today.

About revelations.

Epiphanies.

About life's little hopes, glories and joys.

About how this New Year is going to be oh-so-much better than the crummy one we just left behind.

Except I've forgotten everything I drafted in my head.

Instead you're going to have to make do with these snaps taken from our last few days. I am still relishing my time at home, on holidays.

A few days ago, I foolishly got sunburnt.
We made a massive sand castle/fortress at Balmoral on New Year's Day, while everyone else was hungover, we enjoyed those first few hours of 2012.
After a sweltering day, we managed to sneak in a swim. Well Matt, the Doctor and Tiny did. I chickened out and thought the water was too cold. Tiny is convinced she can swim. The Doctor is enjoying swimming. He never wants to get out of the water.





How is your Summer faring?

Trawling Through Old Folders

I've been delighting in going through old photos on my computer. Relishing in how small  the smalls were, and those chubby little cheeks. Oh MY !

Despite the advantages of digital cameras, it's a shame that I don't print more photos. I really, really love looking at old photos.

I've even, back in the day, started albums, beginning at the time Matt and I met, however, I have only gotten into the first few months of the Doctor's life. Yes. A little behind on that front.

Truth be, I haven't even done our wedding album, and we've been married over six years. Oops.

Do you do albums?

This photo was from the front page of The Daily Telegraph, obviously a few years ago - pre-Tiny, pre-PottyMouthMama. It was some story about how mothers don't spend as much quality time with their children as the dads do, as the mamas are too busy multi-tasking and juggling life.  

Tangent finished.

What are you up to?

My Own Private Letter to Santa

Dear Santa,

About a month or so ago, Ford kindly lent me their brand new Ford Focus Titanium.

Did you know, I've never owned my own car? When Matt and I met, he had a car, and as we fell more and more madly and deeply in love, it became apparent that his car was a gift with purchase. I got the benefits of a car together with a new boyfriend. Win: Win.

Since returning to working in an office, we tend to borrow my MIL's car during the week, so that I can drive, instead of spend 1.5 hours x 2 travelling 24kms. It's a blessing that we are able to borrow her car, but you know Santa, I can't help but feel life would be so much simpler if we had a second car.

When Ford contacted me and asked if I'd like to drive their new car for a week - I very promptly responded that I'd be a fool to turn this opportunity down.

Santa, I'd be pretty chuffed if you popped the zippy new Ford Focus down my chimney. Though we don't have a chimney, so I'm happy for it to be just parked in our driveway. 

Santa, this car is the shiz.

You see, it parks itself, which is an additional gift when you're trying to slip into tiny spaces in say - Surry Hills or Paddington - and you can say: "Look ma, no hands" quite literally as it reverses into that spot.

It has voice recognition. Heated seats (which when I was driving, I put on so Matt felt like he'd wet his pants all of a sudden - naughty Lexi!), a sun roof, which Tiny sampled (above) and a roomy boot. Just look at that boot full of groceries. What a sweet ride! OH! Not to mention the fact that it has a keyless ignition. So you walk up to the car with your keys in your handbag, it senses you're in the vicinity et voila - it opens the doors. And you hop in, you can start your engine. No more rummaging through your handbag - which is BRILLIANT when you have smalls in a busy carpark. Straight in, no stuffing around.

I even boasted to Matt that, for the first time in my life, while driving this car, I felt sporty. Me? Feeling sporty? Holy cow.

I zipped around in that car all week long. Manufacturing reasons why I needed to drive it. Truly. I loved that car so much. I'm still pining for it Santa. In fact, I whizzed and whizzed around in that car, and even after a full week of whizzing, I still had a quarter of a tank of petrol. That baby corners like it's on rails.

Excuse me Santa, but does your sleigh offer that kind of fuel economy? Didn't think so. 

So Santa, what I'm thinking about is the Ford Focus for Christmas. Red Candy.  

Love, 
Lexi

FYI: this is not a sponsored post. Ford lent me the car. I drove it. I loved it. I wrote about it. I'm still pining about it. Santa, bring back my sporty wheels! 

Really Exciting News

This is my husband.

His name is Matt.
Sometimes known as PottyMouthPapa.
By day he's a father and a picture framer and about to become a secondary art teacher.
By night he's an artist.

And the super good news is that he's a Dobell Prize for Drawing finalist.

So super duper proud. And excited. And proud. And excited.

Childhood

While Matt's show was happening, all the smalls that were gathered with their parents played out on the street (supervised), chalking, customising masks, and doing what small children should do. Playing.

I loved this snippet of life. Slowed down.

It reminded me of when I was small. We'd play with the neighbourhood kids. Out in the street. Enjoying simple play. Remember running in packs?

I love this photo taken by my friend Bec. A glimpse of it. It's a picture of how childhood should be. That innocence is retained so briefly. It's so fragile and should be preserved.

Tiny playing with two gals she'd never met before, but it all just clicked. So simple and fills my heart. Sigh.

So Long, Farewell: Weekend

What a whopper weekend!

It started with Tiny's preschool fete on Friday evening for three hours of action, and ended with the four of us on the sofa watching Toy Story, Matt and I trying to squeeze in some zzzz's.

Saturday morning we dropped in to check out Mr Jason Grant's new collab with Murobond paints. The beautiful new palette is called 'Road Trip' and was a pretty apt name, because after spending some time there perusing the Maker's Market, we drove down to Bowral for Matt's exhibition opening.  (Smalls above pictured out the front of Murobond - drop dead cute set up).

After mingling for almost three solid hours, we had a picnic in a nearby park - which was spectacular despite all the dead tulips, and let the smalls free-range for a few hours.

We left Bowral on a high, perhaps incubating more of a desire to flee the big smoke for a simpler, slower way of life.

I could totes get with that.

Heading South

It's Matt's exhibition opening tomorrow and I can confidently say, I think we're both pretty darn excited.

Come 3pm we'll clink glasses to celebrate this new solo show.

Perhaps you can come join us? Daytrippers? Yes please! 

Thanks for your kind words. When the chips are down, you sometimes wish the seagulls would descend, whisk you away, and float you up to the clouds to dangle your feet from up there. So your words gave me comfort.

Anyway - back to art. Join us!

Heading South

Many of you may know that my husband, Matthew Kentmann, is an artist.

He's holding his fourth solo show on Saturday 5th November.

We'd be ever so chuffed if you'd care to join us:

loft gallery
5 Banyette Street
Bowral
Saturday 5th November
3pm

Daytrippers are absolutely welcome.

Frocking Fatigue: Day 21

10 more days to go of Frocktober. You can still sponsor me if you like?

I've hit a bit of frock fatigue, and the inspiration is flagging.

However, one of my ace friends sent me the below dress. Vintage Carla Zampatti. Um, yes, hello! YES PLEASE! (this was day 13 - we're back tracking peeps!). Big thanks to her - this is Matt's favourite frock of all time, that colour is aye carumba HOT!

I promise I'll think of something new to blog about soon. Promise. Only 10 days left of frock talk. Phew!

Wedding Bells: Echoing Six Years Later

Matt and I are celebrating our sixth wedding anniversary today. Those six years have passed by in a flash. I might sound like some old fogie, but seriously, as you get older, time seems to travel at such ridiculous pace. I can barely keep up.

Tonight we've booked a babysitter and we're heading out for a low-key pizza and beer. Well Matt doesn't know that yet, because he's at work, but that's where my head is at. That's the kind of evening I want to have. Low-key. Low-maintenance.

I bought myself some sweet peas and roses at the markets to celebrate. It's all about low-maintenance. Uh huh.