Kids In The Kitchen With Tetsuya

Last week the Doctor and I went on a date. To Tetsuya's.

I know. Right?!

Electrolux invited us to enjoy a Kids in the Kitchen Masterclass with Tets. Who was I to decline?

We enjoyed such a wonderful night learning from the master - two easy recipes - scrambled eggs with ricotta, creamed corn and truffles, and twice cooked chicken with bread sauce. So easy and accessible you can get the kidlets involved cooking dinner. Plus - those eggs, oh em gee peeps. Make them for Father's Day. I am telling you, they are a winner.

As well as enjoying the gentle company of Tetsuya, we learnt about the Electrolux Induction Cooktop. If you are in the market for a new kitchen - check it out. You will thank me. Yes. Yes you will.

There's no use crying over spilt milk, because if you're boiling milk on your Electrolux cooktop it won't bake it on to the stove. The heat is only retained where the saucepan has a magnetic field. Pretty cool if you ask me. Plus it distributes heat evenly which means perfectly cooked pancakes and scrambled eggs. This is clearly a big deal for me because we are a family that loves pancakes and scrambled eggs.

The Doctor got a behind-the-scenes tour of the restaurant with Rich (see bottom two pics by the Doctor). Rich is beyond genius and his passion, enthusiasm and knowledge just blows you out of the water. Not to mention his supersonic hearing abilities.  Big thanks to Electrolux for hosting such a wonderful evening. This was a date night to remember with my little man.

PS - Do not tell Tets that the Doctor's highlight was riding in the hire car. It filled him with such glee. Boys and cars baby, boys and cars.


Please note: This is not a sponsored post. Electrolux invited me for dinner. I loved it. I went. I wanted to share.

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.

Sunday at the Movies:: Brave

The smalls and I are going to see Brave tomorrow. We three are super duper looking forward to it. And it's super good weather for a movie. Yes. Melbourne is sharing their weather with Sydney.

A female lead that's strong - Scottish and brave? I am IN like FLYNN!

Because dudes, my lineage denotes I am of Scottish descent. I was born to love Scottish accents. And with Billy Connelly - well hellz yeah!

I will report back and let you know if this is a goer for the upcoming school holidays (how did we get to July already?!).

What Today Looked Like

We woke up early - but not too early. The Doctor is an early riser (usually 6am, if not earlier) - but today gave us a sleep-in 'til 7ish. Maybe it's a new seven for 7am thing. 


We opened presents in bed, then he requested breakfast. In bed. He wanted pikelets, so I set to work whipping them up to be devoured amidst a mess of flannel sheets, wrapping paper, and presents. 


A lazy day at home was enjoyed. We watched Diary of a Wimpy Kid (gosh that is SUCH a funny film - highly recommend), hung out together, I mustered some energy to bake (I've got a cold. Poor me) a birthday cake. Cuddled. Reminisced. Cuddled some more. And altogether had a lovely day at home.


I tried to get the Doctor to go ten pin bowling but he wanted to stay home. So what's a mama to do?


We did as he wished, then went out for Chinese (as his heart desired) at our local. Because that's the way we roll. I estimate the Doctor ate about a bowl full of fried rice before declaring that he was ready for cake. READY FOR CAKE! We hurried up with the eating - and then brought out his dream cake... A Freddo ice-cream cake. I know I've talked about this cake before - and I struggle with this cake! 


So above is the cake we're having after dinner tomorrow. To celebrate both boy's birthdays and to continue the birthday festivities. Because that's the way I roll. 


You can read the Doctor's birth story here. (If you're that way inclined.)

On Newborns Turning Seven

My little newborn is turning seven tomorrow. 


I can't quite believe it. 


I so vividly remember everything from before his birth right up to to his birth. Everything. - vomiting spaghetti bolognaise, to telling Matt quite tersely that he'd better hurry up and anticipate my needs. And stop turning the damn lights on. I am an animal. I am in labour. I want to labour in the dark. In the nude. And PS - do not mess with me. 


I remember walking over 2 kms the afternoon before the birth - hiring Sex and the City and laughing when the guy shrilled "see you soon". I remember in my head thinking - "you will NOT see me soon sucker, I'm in labour!" I walked all the way home, having to rest every hundred metres or so while I rode out a contraction. 


I remember when Matt got home that evening. He worked as a framer (as he does now) and hugging him and bursting into tears. 


I remember my sister driving like the clappers to get us to the birth centre. The labour aid exploded all over my foot. And her car. Oops. 


I remember arriving at the birth centre and quite literally tearing my clothes off. 


And I remember coming home with that newborn in my arms. Terrified - the revelation that: "I am responsible for this baby surviving and thriving."


Happy 7th Birthday to my beautiful little man. I am so, so happy and proud that you chose me to be your mama. Ever since we first found out about you, you've brought us great joy. Thank you. x

Birthday Grand Central

This is a big and beautiful week in our household. In fact, it's a big and busy month! 


On Thursday it's Matt's birthday.
Three days later it's the Doctor's birthday (of course LEGO is top of his wish list). 
Then seven days after that it's my Dad's birthday.
Then four days later it's my sister's birthday.


Full steam ahead.


Tiny is home sick today. Sick. Yes. I use that phrase loosely. She was sent a gift from Moose - Stick-A-Lulus. She's just been sticking Stik-A-Lulu stickers all over the house. All. Over. The. House. They are now approximately everywhere. 


Tiny loves her some mischief. 


The Doctor will be chuffed. He had a hissy fit yesterday - because everyone got something except him (Matt got a lightbulb, I got a pair of socks, and Tiny got some shoes because she only had sandals). He got some Trash Packs. There'll be great joy today after so much stinking six year old emo going on yesterday. 

Bottoms Up!

I have a thing for San Pellegrino. I really, really love San Pellegrino water, and if I am a bit down, or want a treat, I buy myself a bottle (I know, last of the big spenders). 


Not only that, I really like drinking out of those bottles. I am a bit pedantic when it comes to tracking my water intake, and I prefer to drink out of glass. I just have a soft spot for San Pelle. 


Sometimes I have a bottle after a difficult day at work, or if I'm not feeling well. Or I just refill the bottle with tap water. I hold onto those bottles because I am cray.


However it came about in a conversation the other night, when Tiny asked me for some. The Doctor said: "No Tiny, you can't - that's Mum's wine."


The Doctor thought after all these years of me walking around with the big green San Pellegrino bottle that I was swilling wine from a bottle. In the morning, at lunchtime, at night. In the car. Everywhere. 


I promptly informed them that it was in fact fizzy water, and they could indeed have some. 


Vintage San Pellegrino poster image from here

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. 

Home Is A Salve

Going home this weekend was exactly the tonic I needed.


To hit that open road and get the hell out of Sydney.


The world knows I needed it. I felt lighter getting out of this city. To escape the traffic, the crowds, the noise. I could list endlessly why I needed to get out of Sydney. I'm no longer in love with this city. I feel like it's over between us.


It's not you Sydney. It's me. Actually Sydney - it is you. You've changed. And I don't think I like you anymore.


Going home, feeling my way through familiar spaces, slowing down, feeling the grass underfoot. I got to spend quality time with my babies. Although it's a bittersweet thing, this slowing down. Because when you slow down, you get to know what you miss out on. Everything must be photographed, documented, because who knows when you'll get to do it again? And then by documenting everything, you miss out on being in that very moment.  It's almost a paradox. 


It's most definitely bittersweet - and the only cure is to book in more holidays to look forward to. I'm looking forward to the June school holidays. Busting out of the city again to enjoy more time with my parents and my wee babes, and more time for living. 


Tiny clung on to me this morning as I was about to walk out the door to work. She didn't want me to go. I didn't want to go.


That wasn't bittersweet. It was just bitter. 

The Very Serious Work of Clown Doctors

On Sunday we spent the most spectacular Autumn day at Luna Park. We were thrilled to be guests invited to celebrate Smile Day, which is the Clown Doctors national fundraising day. 


The Commonwealth Bank Staff Community Fund is a founding partner of the Clown Doctors, which was founded in 1999. They invited families to join forces for a really special day, and to help raise money for such a brilliant cause.

In case you didn't know - Clown Doctors play a significant role in children's hospitals around the country bringing laughter and joy to sick and injured children by parodying the hospital routine, while simultaneously offering respite for families and playing an integral part in the healing process.

And seeing them interacting with the kids on Sunday, and imagining the joy they must bring sick and scared kids in hospital - it made me more than a bit teary. They have a gift making kids giddy with laughter - and the health benefits that come from humour? Incredible! 

You can find out about sponsoring a Clown Doctor here. 

Or learn more about fun-raising here. 

And it's not just kids that are getting all the giggles. Now Clown Doctors are working with elderly people, bringing laughter and improving quality of life to those living with dementia or depression in aged care. That's pretty darn awesome I say. 

They touch the lives of a massive 100,000 people per year. They are in all major children's hospitals in Australia - and aim to have Clown Doctors doing the rounds seven days a week. 

Pretty darn inspiring. As a mum, I find it pretty heartening to see these amazing people investing themselves in lifting the spirits of others - and truly love their work (now how often do you honestly get to say that to someone?). 

Sneaky McSneakerson: (Kale) Smoothie

On Saturday the smalls were given some chocolate by a well-meaning friend. We're by no means perfect and pure, but I have been trying to remove refined sugars, colours and so on from our pantry - not in a nutty way - just in a 'we don't need this crap in our diet' way -  and replace it with more and more wholefood. 


All afternoon the kids had been in a slow decline, naturally becoming tireder towards the end of the day. (Halleluljah!)


And then they ate the chocolate.


Literally within minutes Tiny was bouncing off the walls. She was back on. I felt so defeated. Deflated. Meanwhile, she was a helium balloon. Up, up and away.


Fast-forward to this afternoon when I thought, I am going to gazump those little kittehs, whip up a knock-out Vitamix smoothie that they love to love.


I chucked in the following for a delicious smoothie that the Doctor rated as the highlight of his day (high-five!). Just wait 'til you see what I snuck in there:


1 x banana
1 x cup mixed berries (frozen)
2 apples
1 tablespoon of honey
1 small handful of kale. YES KALE! 


Blitz. Serve to two small children - and they will never know the kale is in there. Scout's honour. 


I was so stoked to find kale at my fruit and veg today. The lady at the shop I think was a little bewildered by my excitement - I've been trawling all the local shops looking for it.  It's in season now folks, and is super duper good for you. Get into it! 

There's No Better Way To Start A Week:: LEGO Giveaway

The Doctor and Tiny were ridiculously delighted to come home last week, after a long slog at school to discover a LEGO parcel for them.

Mama was delighted too - because the afternoon activity was completely taken care of.

We live, eat and breathe LEGO. Doctors may warn against this eating and breathing LEGO, but it's a way of life for us. And what's not to love?

The Doctor spends hours putting together LEGO kits, saves up his pocket money and Tooth Fairy money to save up for LEGO kits. LEGO LEGO LEGO. He wants to work at LEGO Land when he's big - and though he'll have to move to Denmark, he'll still come and visit me in holidays - so he says.

Yesterday Tiny busted out her Duplo and they had a LEGO 'expression session*' together, with their cousin Phoebe, building freestyle creations. It's pretty fun. And if I hadn't torn the house apart in an attempt to tidy it - I would have plonked myself right down next to them and created with them.

To celebrate everything good that is LEGO, LEGO have given me two sets of each of the below kits to give away to four completely, absolutely lucky people:

From one of the Doctor's favourite sets LEGO City:
Police Dog Van $49.99

The forest policeman has followed the robber to the cave where he’s stashed the stolen goods. It's time to release the dogs and lock him in the back of the police dog van before he gets up to any more mischief! Includes 2 minifigures: forest policeman and a robber.

From the new LEGO Friends range:
City Park Café $49.99

Andrea works at the City Park Café and loves dishing out tasty treats, when she is not singing into her broom and daydreaming of her big performance (I am clearly Andrea's kindred spirit). It’s the perfect place in Heartlake City for all of the LEGO Friends to meet for milkshakes and burgers or to chill and have fun! You can bake goodies for the girls in the café kitchen, complete with everything you need to serve up café cuisine instyle! Then hang in the outdoor dining area and have a milkshake in the sun! Order up a sweet snack, serve the customers and pay with LEGO money bricks!Includes 2 mini-doll figures: Andrea and Marie.

All you have to do is tell me in 25 words or less why you love LEGO for your chance to win.

Four winners will be drawn next Monday 1st April - no joking.Winners will be announced on PottyMouthMama as well as being contacted. 
Please ensure you include your email address. 
Competition open to Australian residents only. Sorry international peeps. 

EDIT:: Entries are now closed. Winners will be announced this afternoon. Thank you!

When Small People Won't Go To Bed. And Steam Comes Out Your Ears.

I am like this hamster running on one of those wheels. Running. Running. Running. And getting nowhere fast. 


Tiny is totally punishing me lately. 


All week she's been a reluctant sleeper, there have been raised voices. There's been hollow threats. And a threat of punishment (and I struggle with this because I can't think of anyway to punish her - because her response is always so non-chalant).  Once she's finally wrestled down to sleep - I find myself in the middle of the night pushed to the edge of the bed - with no covers on me. Cold, uncomfortable, and with no pillow.


This week her bed linen had been changed after an accident, and had literally been replaced, when she came out to me and told me her bed was wet. 


She denied denied denied, then blamed it on the Doctor and said he wee'd on her bed. I told her that the Doctor didn't do it (because I know the Doctor better than she does), finally she admitted that no, the Doctor had nothing to do with it. Instead she had been playing with water on her bed, and now her doona was wet through. 


I was pretty cross. 


It was one of those nights when you're like a jack-in-a-box, up and down, up and down, putting the smalls back into bed. Then they come out again. And so on for around 15 minutes. Then the steam starts to pour out your ears, and you walk them back and tell them once more - don't come out again. It's late. It's bed time. 


So this is where we were. I stripped the bed again when there was an almighty crash. I peer into the Doctor's bedroom and he's inadvertently smashed his bedside lamp. Glass everywhere.


If someone was checking my blood pressure, I think that cuff thing they put on would have been torn to shreds as I turned into the Incredible Hulk. 


Seriously. The bed humdrum is killing me. And not softly. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Images - despite being totally unrelated were something that made the smalls and I laugh today. We went to visit my sister, Sarah at Calico + Ivy today, and en route to get some smoothies, we spotted a plane vapour trailing his way through the sky. 'Marry Me'. We stood with our mouths agape looking skyward, causing other pedestrians to do the same. By the time the pilot got to me the marry had blown away and looked like a mangled version of the word. Whoever commissioned that - I hope they got in quickly. 

Tying Laces. And Other Stuff

We are currently drowning under a pile of Year 1 homework.


When I was in Year 1 we didn't have homework. Well certainly not to this extent. (And when I was a girl Paddle Pops were 60 cents, and I walked home by myself.) This week we have a daily reader, homework books, Mathletics, and a talk on rhinos to do. Fo' realz. 


Amidst all this, we're teaching the Doctor how to tie his shoelaces. You can pooh pooh me all you like - and say we are late bloomers to this, but I am not one to push, and we do things at our own speed, when we are good and ready. 


On the weekend I found this video that I thought was a cute way to teach your kid how to tie their shoelaces. 

Ordinary people must be saying: "But PMM, why do you need a video?" Well a couple of years ago I discovered that I don't tie my shoelaces correctly, I have some funky way of tying them, and it's not completely successful. It still serves me well, but I thought I'll relearn with the Doctor so we can learn together.


So I am now learning to tie my laces too. 

Tiny the Tyrant

Tiny is putting me through my paces these last couple of weeks.

That little innocent face? Yes. That little person, hamming it up for the cameras, has been a complete and utter whirlwind of mischief.

First stop - weeing on the Doctor's bed in the morning.

When asked why she did this - her response:
"I couldn't see the toilet."

Second stop - a number two not in the loo - in the bathtub, together with a bath towel and a bath mat. The girl is gross.

She did not even deny this.

Third stop on this whistle stop tour of havoc - this time - a jolly big wee on her bed.

And today friends, I went to pick the Doctor up from school - I pulled the scooters out of the boot because I thought - what the hey - it will be fun! Tiny rode her scooter all of 1 metre, then threw herself on the ground and chucked an almighty wobbly. Almighty in the sense that every other parent who walked past gave me that knowing look, and I almost listed her on eBay. Yes. That kind of almighty look.

At home she's been turning her bedroom into a librarian's nightmare by tossing all her books all over the floor. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Together with a nice mix of clean and worn clothes. I've given up assessing whether the clothes need washing or not, fold half of them and toss the others into the wash.

Then there's the kamikaze attacks on the Doctor. I arrived home from work last week to find the Doctor sporting a hefty bite mark on his cheek. Seriously?

And on a separate day, the smalls were in the bath, I walked in to find the Doctor completely covered in scratch marks, and Tiny reclining at the other end of the bath. They now have separate baths because they fight too much.

What is going on with Tiny? Do I need an intervention? Or just a holiday?

LEGO LEGO LEGO

I showed this to the Doctor and his jaw literally dropped. This is probably where he's going to work when he's a big boy.

Toothless

The Doctor has lost his second top tooth over the weekend.

As he noted, it's the first tooth he's lost at home, all the others have fallen out at school - and only one made it home.

Not to worry. I wasn't pinning all my hopes and dreams on those lost teeth.

The Tooth Fairy came and went, and now he's checking his other teeth for wobblies - the Tooth Fairy is a lucrative deal.

It dawned on me today how big my boy is growing. He'll be seven before too long, which means I've been a mama for just as long.

There's the revelation that old people are right. The older you get, the quicker the time seems to pass. I can remember clutching that newborn to my chest after two hours of pushing.

A Snapshot: We're Here. Now.

Sometimes I forget to report back on stuff. And things.

Like how months and months ago I wrote about the Doctor battling with case after case of tonsillitis. And how I was determined to not let him have surgery if I could help it. After visiting a cache of different GPs - and most were not interested in finding the root cause of the problem.

 Of course I am not so bonkers that I wouldn't book him in to have his tonsils removed  if he had to, but I am someone who is determined to investigate alternate options. I clearly remember having surgery under general anaesthetic when I was just five, and that awful murky feeling that follows. Of course - that surgery - was unavoidable - and I am so gratedul my parents had my wonky eye fixed way back when.

And so research we did.

He's now been visiting the world's most rad osteopath, Jamie, for about five months.

Since he began going to see Jamie, guess how many times he's had tonsillitis?

Zero. Zilch. Nada. None. He hasn't had tonsillitis since.

This is brilliant in my book.

This last month he's lost a tooth too - a big one, one of the top front teeth. There was great excitement when the Tooth Fairy visited.  

Other than that, life is peachy.

Reading + Running

The Doctor is turning into a bit of a bookworm. Which is rad in my books (excuse the pun) - because I was a total bookworm, and from there, my love of the written word formed.

There's so much to be gained from reading a good book. Losing yourself in a story, learning more about language. It's rich and can transport you elsewhere.

On the weekend I bought him Andy Griffiths' book 'The 13-Storey Treehouse'. I thought it would last him a little while. It's a graphic novel, plenty to keep small boys entertained and captive. He read it in one afternoon.

I mean amazeballs. But yikes! This mama better get her game on baby!

Today I went looking for a new book for him. I asked at my favourite children's book store after scouring the shelves by myself. The lady gave me a couple of recommendations, and I wound up with a Horrid Henry book.  

And he read it this afternoon.

So mamas, have you got some book recommendations for my 6.5 year old, book-loving boy? I'm a mama on the prowl looking for new words to share with my little-big boy. I am literally running to keep up with his voracious booky appetite.