Thursday, May 20, 2010


Originally uploaded by ninevah
Rory was given this cool handmade wooden car last night by my step-grandmother, Ma. What's even cooler about it is that it was made by my late grandfather, Poppa, as a gift for someone they knew. Now it's been returned to the family and Rory (and later, presumably when Huon's old enough) is delighted with it.

It's his new favourite toy. In the picture, you can see his two teddies have been stuffed in. 'White' Teddy is driving (allegedly) despite both legs hanging out the side door, and 'Yellow' Teddy is rear passenger.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

capabilities vs complacency

I sometime think that Rory was sent as a challenge, both physically AND mentally. My endeavours at the gym - to lose weight, keep fit and be able to chase after a small tornado - have clearly paid off. The mental challenges are ongoing and the goal posts are always changing with no abatement in sight. It's interesting to note that none of the other kids in my Mothers Group appear to challenge their parents in the way Rory does. He, perhaps, sets the trend at times.

Every so often, we appear to reach a point where boundaries and capabilities are met, silently acknowledged and respected. And then, predictably, a sense of complacency sets in and we (both mother and son) know what we are capable of and life is good. That is, until another skill or ability is discovered.

As was discovered this morning.

Since Rory transitioned to a 'big boy bed' in the past month and a half, he's now able to get himself up and out of his room when he wakes in the morning. Usually, he'll run down to our room and snuggle in bed before his father reluctantly gets up and organises his (Rory's) breakfast. In the past week, he's started taking himself off to play nicely with his toys in the loungeroom.

Until this morning.

I awoke sometime after 6am to hear noises in the kitchen. I was sure I'd shut the kitchen baby gate, which is secured from the wall to the bench. My ingenious son had pushed his high chair to the bench and clambered over (no doubt thanking his skills he'd picked up from Gymbaroo in the process). By the time I'd dragged myself to the kitchen, I'd caught him standing in front of the fridge, with the door wide open, plastic bowl in hand, filled with 'bix' (Weet-bix). It was hard to tell him off for showing such initiative.

Unfortunately, this now means more baby proofing is required in the kitchen, as one of the last few 'gated' areas of the house is now accessible to a small inquisitive tornado. But on the flipside, now that Rory is becoming more self-reliant (by showing that he's able to entertain himself and get his own breakfast), it's a comfort to know that he able to carry out 'routine' activities without a lot of parental help.

Still doesn't mean we get a sleep in though!

Sunday, May 2, 2010

there are no donuts in death

Every Sunday afternoon I check the Postsccret site to absorb the writings of postcards of anonymous people wanting to get a secret off their chest. Most of the time, the secrets are slightly depressing, although there is quite often a few gems which shine some basic truth.
Today's batch included the one above. It struck me as being a pretty obvious sentiment. Why forgo all the pleasures that life can give you for an eternity in an unknown oblivion?
I think I want pizza for dinner now.