The Silly Season

Christmas 2013 is done and dusted. The money has been spent, tummies were filled and all the rubbish bins were packed to the brim with festive wrappings and toy packaging.

We had a fairly typical Queensland Christmas; a stinking hot day with all the ceiling fans on (we don’t have air conditioning or insulation in our house), plus a couple of extra desk/pedestal fans aimed at the dining table to help keep everyone a bit cooler while they ate.

It was a tight Christmas financially, but in some ways that made it even better. There were just enough presents so that everyone felt spoiled, but not so many that the significance was lost. A lot of people in our town travel an hour away to the coastal strip to shop, but I pride myself on shopping locally for gifts, unless I can find something cheaper online (hey, we are on a budget).

There was less food on the table than in previous years, but then, we had fewer guests this year too. We still had plenty of leftovers, which was a bonus (because, let’s face it, who really feels like cooking in the day or two after Christmas anyway?).

Of course, for the cricketing males in the house, the day after Christmas was important too – with the Boxing Day test match beginning on television.  The littlest Caveman also joined them in the lounge room, simply because it was where he wanted to build with his new Lego. For the Cavegirl and me, it meant a day at the shops for the Boxing Day sales. With still not a lot to spend, we didn't buy very much, but it was fun to have a look.

So now the silly season is all over. Silly is the right word for it too ... with arguments about whether we should say 'merry christmas' or 'happy holidays' (I personally don't care, since both have been around for generations and mean pretty much the same thing).

Then there are the shoppers getting silly about car parks and crowds at the shops - luckily, most people I met this year were fantastic.  We all know we'd rather not be there, but it has to be done. Some things just can't be bought that far in advance.  

It will be easier now to get a car park at the shops, which is handy if you want to buy hot cross buns for Easter … no doubt they’ll have those on the shelves in the next week or two (and people will complain, even though it makes no difference).

Cynicism and silliness aside though, I really do enjoy Christmas. So does the rest of the family. My little Caveman asked if we could just leave our tree up all year because he loves it so much. I must admit, I’m almost tempted. It would save a lot of work and be a good start on being ready for next Christmas.

I sincerely hope everyone had the best Christmas they could have. May you all have memorable times with loved ones and allow yourself to relax and enjoy the little moments that really matter xx

Graduating Primary School

Well, school is over for another year and we are really gearing up for Christmas now. It has been an exciting time for the kids in our Crazy Cave – especially for our middle child, the Cavegirl, who has finished primary school and is moving on to high school in the New Year.

The Caveman and I usually hover around the school at the end of the last day, just to see the celebrations (and tears!) that come from the kids who are leaving. For the kids in younger grades the holidays are something to cheer about, but for those who are leaving primary school forever, it can be quite sad. 

Even some of the parents have tears, especially the ones whose youngest child has finished their primary schooling. I was mostly okay yesterday, watching my daughter hug her friends and shed a couple of tears, but I know I will be a mess when my littlest Caveman finishes primary school in another five years. All of our children have attended the same school (the first starting in 2004) so I expect to feel very emotional the day I walk out that school gate for the last time.

The common joke among the parents is that the kids who are sobbing as if they’ll never see each other again are usually the same ones you will see walking around at the shops together a couple of days later. These days, with mobile phones and social media, it is easy enough for them to arrange to meet up regularly … and, in a town the size of ours, they are likely to run into each other occasionally anyway. 

Some of them, though, won’t see much of each other after that final day of primary school – we have a number of public and private high schools in the area that they can move on to, and many of those kids have friends they won’t be attending school with anymore. 

So, for my Cavegirl, this is the start of a new era. After the holidays she will start at the same high school her older brother goes to and find herself stepping into a whole new world. She is looking forward to high school (with only a little apprehension) and I know she will cope with the changes – and challenges - very well.

In the meantime though, we can relax and forget about routines for a whole SIX weeks. Hooray!

Lessons Learned

This week I finished my Aged Care course. I can't believe it is over already, the past 6 months seemed to fly by! It has been exhausting, but fun and fulfilling at the same time. I have enjoyed being back in the classroom and especially loved my time on ‘Prac’, doing work experience in an aged care facility. There have been new friendships formed and I have learned more than I ever expected … and not just about aged care.

Here are three things I have discovered about myself:

I am better at studying than I gave myself credit for. Now this undoes all the hard work I have put into forming my low self-esteem over all the years since I dropped out of school, convinced I would never be good at anything. It turns out I CAN study and do pretty well at it. I just need to have the right subject matter in front of me. It makes sense really, if you are interested in what you are studying, you’re going to do better at it. I also got great comments from the teacher, which was a new experience - pride in my work is not something I have had a lot of as a student before.

I enjoy helping the elderly. I know, I know, it sounds like something you should be sure of before beginning a course in aged care, but I was a little nervous about whether I would actually like looking after old people. Doing the theory is one thing, putting it into practice can be quite different. Aged care means dealing firsthand with some unromantic issues, like fragile skin, incontinence and unpredictable moods ... sometimes the actual work is harder than you expect (and not just physically). So, even though I went into the course thinking this would be an industry I could see myself in, it was a relief to find that it does suit me as well as I’d hoped.

I like working, more than I realised. This really was a revelation for me. You see, when I was younger and had other jobs – before having children – I thought I hated working. This was embarrassing … it’s not something you can admit to anyone without being labelled a ‘dole bludger’. It gives the impression that you would rather laze around at home all day watching television. I now know that I just didn't have many jobs I enjoyed. After a few weeks of doing Prac, I was sad to leave ... I actually felt lost when I didn't have to go back the following week. Like studying, if the subject matter is interesting, it's more enjoyable.

To balance all these happy discoveries though, there was also the less pleasant realisation that my body and I have different ideas about what constitutes ‘enough’ sleep. For years now I have known that I need 8 hours of sleep every night (probably to make up for all the sleep I missed when the kids were little). When I was doing Prac, I set my alarm for 5 am, to get to work by 6. It has been four weeks since then and I am still waking before 5.30 every day … no matter what time I go to sleep the night before. One night I decided to get a sleep in by going to bed an hour earlier. The next morning I woke up at 4. 

The Caveman also used this opportunity to prove that he IS capable of running the house without me (mostly, anyway). I was like a new mother not wanting to leave her baby, constantly checking when I got home at the end of the day that all the important little tasks had been done. In the end, I realised he really can cope and I can relax a little bit.

Of course, a little bit more practice really would make him perfect, so my getting a job now would give him plenty of opportunity to impress me even more J

Keeping Busy

Well, I am back at last. After more than a month since my last blog entry (I know, I was surprised it's been that long too!), I've finally found some time to share a little with the world again.

It has been a hectic time here in our Crazy Cave - The Caveman and I have both been studying hard (which in my case also included 2 weeks of placement, or 'work experience', in an actual aged care facility). My course finishes in just a couple of weeks and then I am in the scary position of actually having to find a REAL JOB.

Of course, with us being so busy, it was only a matter of time before our kids decided they needed some extra attention.

It started with our littlest Caveman last Monday. He was playing on the school playground at pick-up time (I was actually standing only a couple of metres away from him when it happened).  He decided, like so many other children, that running up the slide would be much more interesting than the more practical option of climbing up the ladder to slide down it on his bottom. Next thing, he'd slipped and fallen on the slide, landing with all his weight on his right hand. He came crying to me, so I gave him a cuddle, checked his fingers and assured him they were just bruised and would be fine.

Oops. It turned out, after X-rays the next morning, that he had a tiny fracture in his pinky finger. No problem, the doctor taped it up and he went off to school. Of course, convincing a six year old to NOT remove the tape through the day because 'it's annoying, Mum!', is a whole other story, but he's getting better at leaving it alone now.

As if one injured child wasn't enough, our teenager fell at cricket training on Thursday night, also causing some concern. He too went off to hospital the next morning, for X-rays on his right knee and left wrist. Luckily, it turned out nothing was broken, although he has done some ligament damage around the knee, which will take quite a while to heal properly.

It was also lucky for his sister that he hadn't broken anything ... as I watched the Caveman driving away to take him to the hospital, I turned to my Cavegirl and said, 'you know, if he's broken something as well, YOU are not going anywhere this weekend!'. Two injured children in one week is quite enough, thanks.

Although, on second thought, maybe the boys are just catching up with their sister. She has already done her time in the local hospital, after falling out of a tree in our backyard a couple of months ago and landing on her back - resulting in numbness and more than a little parental panic. After a ride in the ambulance and a stack of X-rays, she turned out to be suffering bruises and strains, but nothing more.

Maybe it's time I petitioned the hospital to give us our own room ... we do seem to spend a lot of time there!

Holy Bucket, Batman!

A few weeks ago we attended a special day in our littlest Caveman's classroom - it was a celebration of the 'olden days'.

It turns out the olden days were much more recent than I remembered. The kids were focusing mostly on their grandparents ... we're talking people born in the 40's, 50's and 60's. Doesn't seem that 'old' to me! (Of course, when I studied the olden days at school, it was all about my grandparents' generation, who were born before 1930, which I'm sure didn't seem that old to my parents either).

It was all very interesting really. The kids made PowerPoints about their grandparents for everyone to watch, they played some old-fashioned games (like tunnel ball and quoits) and they sang an old song or two, including 'There's a hole in the bucket'. You know the one ... 'there's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza', 'well fix it, dear Henry, dear Henry' ... etc. Not my favourite song, I'll admit.  I find it so long and repetitive, not to mention mildly irritating. My dear husband knows this, so guess what he was humming for the rest of the day? (I'm sure annoying me is one of his most treasured hobbies.)

Thankfully, time has passed and the song has been forgotten. Until today.

Today we decided to wash the car. It's a big deal in our house (our car sees a lot of dust and not enough water to compensate!). The kids were ready with their cloths and sponges, the hose was hooked up to the tap, the car wash solution just had to mixed with water. I went to the laundry to grab a bucket - at which point the Caveman started singing 'there's a hole in the bucket ...".  All the kids laughed and joined in, but I ignored their silly attempt to annoy me by turning the water on harder so I couldn't hear them.

The bucket filled and I turned the tap off, to notice that they'd given up the song (thank goodness!). I carried the bucket through the house, picking up the car wash solution as I went. Once outside, I put the bucket down to turn and go back in for my sunglasses ... only to realise I'd left a trail of water on the floor behind me. All the way from the laundry to the front door.

Yep. There was a hole in the bucket.

I'm sure my family's laughter could be heard by the neighbours at the other end of the street.

Where is my Spring?

It's another hot, sweltering day here in South East Queensland, although it doesn't seem that long ago we were all complaining about how cold it was.

Honestly, this year we seem to have skipped from Winter straight into Summer. We had a beautiful Spring ... it lasted for about a week before the heat set in.

The kids are on holidays from school for two weeks, so the good thing about this weather is that we can justify throwing towels and sunscreen into the car and heading to the beach.

Not that we often do. We don't live that far from the coast really: about an hour's drive, so you wouldn't think it would be that difficult.

Unfortunately, when it's this hot, sometimes it just seems easier to stay at home. Maybe we should make more of an effort to get out though.

My littlest Caveman and I had the house to ourselves this afternoon, as his sister is at a friend's house overnight and his Dad and brother were out playing golf.  My little boy had already spent plenty of time outside, before coming into the house to play Minecraft on the computer (what is it about that game that kids love so much anyway?).

I was sorting out laundry when he got my attention by dramatically slapping his hand to his forehead.

'Oh I'm so silly!' he gasped, 'I've spent all this time inside when I could have been outside.'

'Well, yes,' I responded enthusiastically, glad he'd finally seen the light. 'That's why computers are bad for you.'

'No, Mum,' he said, 'I meant in my computer game I've spent all day in the house I built, when my character could have been outside instead!'

Well. So much for that life lesson.

On the upside, he really hadn't been on the computer long, and then only in the heat of the day when I'd prefer for him to not be out in the sun anyway.

We're still going to the beach these holidays though.

I spy ... fresh breath!!

I had the funniest game of 'I Spy' with my 6 year old in the car yesterday morning.

It's not unusual for him to want to play I Spy - it's one of his favourite car games. We were on our way to school, just the two of us, and we had fun going through the usual objects.

He went first.  "I spy with my little eye something beginning with G."   "Grass?"  No.  "Gravel?"  No.  Turned out it was Garden. 

My turn.  I chose the letter T.  Tree.  Too easy, he got it first go.  

Although, I don't mind admitting, I will purposely give easy ones if I'm not really in the mood to play.  Also, it's only six minutes to school in our car, so we tend to keep it pretty simple anyway.  

Well, that's the theory.

"I spy with my little eye something beginning with P", came the voice from the back seat.  No worries, I thought.  "Posts?"  No.  "Power poles?"  No.  "Power lines?"  No.  Hmm.

"Is it inside the car or outside the car?"  I asked.  Inside.  I had a quick glance around me, trying to work out what the answer could be, but he was so excited about me having trouble that he jumped in with, "Do you give up, Mum?"  Okay mate, I give up.

With glee, he announced, "It's my Powerful breath!"  What??  At this stage I was thinking maybe I should have checked he'd brushed his teeth before we headed off, until he explained it further.

"Before we left, I had one of your mints and the packet said it would give me Powerful Fresh Breath."

I swear, he said it with Capitals.

It probably did give him really fresh breath too, but how he thought I’d be able to ‘spy’ that (especially with him sitting behind me in the car) I’ll never know.

At least I can be proud that he reads the packaging – and the makers of Eclipse mints would be thrilled to know their labelling has had an impact!

Expanding the Cave

We have been moving house this weekend.

Well, not literally ... we are still in the same house. What has happened is that we have had a major shift in the bedroom situation.

We decided a couple of weeks ago that it was time our boys had separate rooms. Having a teenager sharing a room with a 6 year old is not practical anymore - the older boy wants more privacy and personal space now and the younger one is constantly messing up the space they share with his seemingly endless supply of train tracks and Lego.

In an ideal world we would have a four bedroom home. In this world, however, we don't. Moving to a bigger home is out of the range of our budget right now, so we had to come up with another solution. Luckily, the three bedroom house we currently live in does have a handy family/rumpus room tucked away at one end - big enough to be converted into another bedroom area.

We are renting, so we couldn't just put in another wall, but we were able to pick up some wardrobes at a local second-hand shop - great for partitioning off the area we want. Okay, so the new 'room' has a curtain for a door, but it works just fine.  As an extra bedroom, it's perfect for the Caveman and myself.  It is handy to the living areas, and leaves all the kids with a bedroom each at the other end of the house.

Of course, this has been a very popular move with the kids. They had no trouble deciding which room they would each have (with no arguments, surprisingly) and spent the weekend happily moving various items from one room to another.

I did worry about how our littlest Caveman would cope with being in a room on his own, after all this time with his big brother there for company , but he is doing well so far. The dog spent a night in his room to help with the transition and from there he's been fine - in fact, he's loving having the entire room to himself!

So, in one weekend we have gone from three bedrooms to four ... and found a whole lot of extra clutter. Where do you put everything from the family room when you don't have one anymore? There is a fair bit we can get rid of, but also a lot we would rather keep - and it all has to be sorted out.

No doubt it will give us plenty to do for the next couple of weeks  :-)

The Ghost of Birthdays Past

Tomorrow is the Caveman's birthday - his 41st. If we weren't so busy with studies and, well, life in general, we'd probably do something to celebrate it. It also doesn't help that he is currently on a pretty strict nutrition regime ... which means no cake!

Wondering whether this birthday will still feel special for him made me think of this time last year, when we celebrated him reaching 'the big 4-0'.

We were actually on holiday at Jindabyne in New South Wales. Family holidays are pretty much non-existent on our income, but early last year we won a travel voucher and decided to spend it on a (probably) once-in-a-lifetime trip to the snow.

The Caveman was the only one of us who had ever travelled on a plane before, or seen snow - way back when he was a toddler - so this was a huge family treat. The travel there and back was great (it turns out we all enjoy flying!) and the snow, even better. It was a budget holiday, as snow trips go ... we didn't stay in a resort and we didn't try any skiing.

Although, since certain members of our family are a little accident-prone, putting any of us on skis would have seemed like an invitation for disaster anyway. We did do some tobogganing and that was scary enough!

Staying in Jindabyne meant that it was only a short drive to get to the Perisher or Thredbo ski resorts, but we also managed to fit in other, non-snow activities (such as boating on the massive lake and arranging a horse riding session for our girl). It really was the best of both worlds.

All that, combined with a stopover (and sightseeing!) in Canberra the night before flying home, made for the most amazing family holiday ever. The fact that the Caveman had his birthday while we were at Jindabyne just made it even more special.

So, while this year's birthday will be much more low-key, the memories of last year's will stay with us for a long time.

My own 40th is creeping up quickly now and I will take the opportunity (as I do every year) to gloat about the fact that, for the next six weeks, he is two years older than me instead of just one!

Happy birthday, my darling Caveman xx

My Brain Still Works!

Well, I have had quite a break away from my blog just lately - I do apologise to anyone who might have missed me!

I mentioned when I first started this blog that I was in the process of trying to get back into the workforce.

What has followed has been months of looking for a job, dealing with Centrelink (and we all know that's no fun!) and trying to figure out how to make myself more employable after so many years at home raising my family.

I finally took a huge step and have started a course at the local TAFE college, studying Aged Care. I was very nervous in the lead-up to the course beginning (hey, it's been a long time since I was in a classroom!), but I am really enjoying it so far. In fact, at the three week mark, I can honestly say I am finding the course more interesting and enjoyable than I had ever expected to. My classmates are easygoing, interesting people and the teacher is enthusiastic and supportive.

What more can a student (of any age) ask for?

There is a lot to learn and at times I feel like my brain is being expected to hold a lot more information than it thinks it's capable of .... but I seem to be managing okay so far! The title of this post is no accident - I really am pleased to announce that my brain does still seem to work. The great thing is, I can feel my own self-esteem and self-confidence improving with each day. As an added bonus, the Caveman has gone back to school with me at the same TAFE college (although doing a different course) and I have seen the same changes occurring for him. It is exciting for both of us and, for the first time in years, we feel like we are doing something truly productive toward our future.

Of course, the impact on our kids is significant too .... they have had to get used to all five of us needing to be out the door before 8.30 every morning. There is more expectation on all of them to help out around the house (which they are doing, mostly without complaint!). They seem quite proud of us too, which is lovely.

Naturally, there have been times the adjustment has been difficult. We've had mornings when I didn't think any of us would get to where we needed to be, on time. There have been afternoons I've come home and realised I have to pop back out to do a little shopping and I'm just too tired to think about it. A couple of nights ago I had to do an urgent load of washing and get it dry the next day or the kids would have run out of school uniforms!

We are getting ourselves sorted out though and the routine is smoother every day. We have our study times and relaxation times ... and everyone is generally excited and happy about this new phase in our lives.

Not to mention, it's kind of sweet to drop your kids off in the morning and call out, 'Have a nice day at school,' only to have them turn around and call back, 'You too, Mum!'

Around and around we go ...

Our State's capital city, Brisbane, is home to a number of 'toll road' tunnels and motorways. Not that I'm complaining. To be able to coast easily through the middle of the city (or underneath it) and cut out all those traffic lights is wonderful and I don't mind paying for the privilege.

Naturally it's not cheap - and I'm sure I'd be the first to complain if I was driving those roads and paying the tolls all the time - but for those of us who only visit 'The Big Smoke' occasionally, it's a cost we allow for. We have a toll tag attached to our windscreen, so I just top up the account online before we go and the fees are paid automatically as we pass the toll points.

The only problem is that every now and then a new road or tunnel is built and, for 'occasional' visitors like us, it can be tricky to learn which ones to take and how they all connect to each other.

We visited family in the southern suburbs of Brisbane last weekend. Normally we have two options - either go the long way around on the Gateway Motorway to get to a connecting road which then takes us to the right place, or go through the middle of the city. The Clem 7 tunnel goes right under the middle, cutting a lot of traffic lights (and a fair chunk of time) out of our journey, so it's usually our preferred option.

This time we decided to fit in a visit with family members living out past Ipswich before heading to the usual suburbs. No problem, what a great opportunity to check out the new Airport Link tunnel. We piled the kids, the luggage and the dog into the car, programmed our destination into the GPS (that was our first mistake!) and off we went.

We had no trouble finding the tunnel.  In we went, feeling very clever. Until the GPS, which is usually great, told us to 'take the ramp and keep right at the fork'. The poor thing ... having trouble keeping up with our location, it was giving the instructions a few seconds late. So, since we were almost at the fork, the Caveman assumed it meant for us to take the left turn (admittedly, it could have been mistaken for an exit ramp). A few moments later, it became clear we were heading towards the airport - the exact opposite direction to where we needed to be going!

After this unplanned detour we found a place to turn and head back to the city, toward the Inner City Bypass (which is where the Link Tunnel was supposed to take us in the first place). This was going well, until we were going past Queensland's hallowed ground of sporting events and concerts alike, Suncorp Stadium. It was at this point I turned around to speak to the kids in the back seat, forgetting to warn the Caveman which direction our next turn should be. Unfortunately, we missed it. So, our tour of inner city Brisbane included a another unplanned detour, this time over the river and into a quiet little area behind the State Library.

This was getting frustrating, to say the least. We drove back over the river into the city area on a different bridge, missing another turn into the Bypass, before we found an intersection where we could turn and head back past Suncorp Stadium again. This time we paid attention and went where we were supposed to go. In the end, to our surprise, we arrived at our destination only 15 minutes later than we'd planned to.

The experience hasn't put us off using the tunnels on future trips to Brisbane (although we may choose not to bother with the GPS next time). However, since we had also gone through about double the number of toll points I had been expecting, the first thing I did when I got near a computer again was to top up our toll account!

The Joys of Modern!

Isn't it amazing how ingrained technology is in our lives?  It's not just computers and the internet, but our mobile phones as well.  I commented to the Caveman just a couple of weeks ago that it's almost hard to remember back to when we couldn't just check our in-phone calendar for appointments or to send a quick text to each other with a reminder to pick up a bottle of milk on the way home.

This is a technique he, in particular, is very fond of.  He often adds to my grocery list, even while I'm standing in the supermarket - usually with a text message along the lines of, "also: tomato sauce, dog food, paper towels", or whatever the items might be at the time.

A hundred years ago (or maybe it just feels like it!), before we were married, we had no way of getting these all-important messages to each other. If I was shopping and missed a couple of items, it was just too bad. If he was about to leave work and we needed milk, I couldn't tell him until he had arrived home. I love the fact that we can get messages to each other so quickly and easily now. It saves on petrol (not to mention the grumpy mood that might ensue when somebody realises they have to drive back out for one item!).

I often wonder about the "good old days" ... when people had to make their own bread, do all their laundry by hand, scrub the floors on their hands and knees and wipe their backsides with newspaper. A lot of the nostalgia is usually from the generation who were children then, not the ones who actually had to do the endless cooking and back-breaking chores (speak to one of them - trust me, they love their automatic washing machines and vacuum cleaners!).

Now, I personally don't mind making bread by hand, but I'd get pretty sick of it if it was a daily chore instead of an occasional fun activity.  My washing machine is easily my favourite household appliance, closely followed by the fridge.  As for toilet paper, well, I'm sure no one regrets that little invention!

When I was a teenager we lived for a while in a house where we had a proper "outhouse" - since there was no indoor toilet - as well as an ancient copper tub to have a dip in (that was just for fun, there was actually a bath in the house), an old-fashioned combustion stove to cook on ... and we even had a wringer in the laundry, which we had to use for the washing.  It was an unusual thing for someone of my generation to experience, and was great fun at times, pretending to live in the "olden days", but I'm not sure it was so enjoyable for Mum!

It's nice to be nostalgic about times gone by, but there are plenty of conveniences available now that none of us would be too keen to give up. Indoor toilets, for one thing, are great (it was no fun walking to that outhouse on cold, rainy nights!). I love the fact that, on the weekends, I can put a load in the washing machine, do the floors and then spend time with my family - I'm not tied up with never-ending chores like my own grandmother was when she was raising her seven children.

Getting back to technology, very few of us would be happy to go back to the days before the internet  - having information at my fingertips is still an amazing thing to me. As for mobile phones, I have one, the Caveman has one and our teenager has one. It means he can contact either of us if he needs to be picked up in a different spot after school, or at a different time.  There are people who moan about technology taking over our kids' lives and how "we managed fine without mobiles when we were kids, why can't they?". Of course, the same people comment that it can be dangerous for our kids to walk anywhere alone anymore. As with anything, it's a matter of weighing up the options and deciding what is best for you and your own child. It's all about balance.

As long as we still encourage them to be kids - enjoy their outside activities regularly and have time away from technology where possible (and maybe I'm just blessed, but I don't know many families who don't already do all that) - then this generation will turn out fine.

No doubt, when they are older, they will be reminiscing about their own "good old days"!

... Z Z Z Z Z Z Z ...

I can hear my dog snoring. There is a hallway and a door between us right now, but her rumbling can be heard clearly by all in the house.

I think it's an age thing - as she gets older, her "sleep sounds" are definitely getting louder. It doesn't matter that her bed is outside the back door ... even when the Caveman and I go to our own bed, which puts an extra room and two doors between us, I still hear her.

This makes me think about bedrooms and sleeping arrangements. We are currently living in a three bedroom house, which can be a little too cosy at times. We unfortunately can't afford to upgrade just at the moment, so the two boys have to share a room. Most of the time this works well - it has encouraged a close relationship despite their eight year age gap. Very often, if our littlest Caveman is feeling a bit out of sorts, he'll scramble into his big brother's bed for the night.

The only problem this causes is that, if big brother is away overnight (as is the case tonight), our little guy becomes quite insecure about having the room to himself. He is so used to having someone else in the room that he has trouble settling in there on his own. Luckily, it's usually easy to get around this issue by letting him spend the night in his sister's room - he gets a mattress on her floor and thinks it's a great adventure.

Admittedly, this doesn't actually take away his discomfort about sleeping on his own, but it does make life easier for us.

The funny thing is, our last house had four bedrooms - so he was used to sleeping on his own there. It's just, since we've been in a smaller house for the past couple of years, he has forgotten how comfortable he was with that. Now, however, our older boy is a teenager and would love to have his own personal space again. The plan is for our next house (when we can afford it) to be a four bedroom again, so that all the kids can go back to having a bedroom each ... and our little Caveman will have to adjust.

When I tried to gently explain this to him, his response was, "What if we get a house with five bedrooms?" I told him that we don't need five bedrooms, four would be enough. His reply? "But, if we get five bedrooms, you and Dad can have a bedroom each as well." I laughed and started to say that wouldn't be necessary, when he leaned closer to me and whispered, "Then you won't have to listen to Dad snoring at night time."

Since the dog isn't the only one snoring more loudly with age, I have to admit he has a good point there!

Maturity is Overrated.

They say age is just a number, but 

maturity is a choice.

There is a new game in our house at the moment - no, not like table soccer, although the kids are loving that right now too.

It's "Scare people with the toy spider".

We have this little plastic spider which looks surprisingly real, especially if partly hidden or placed on a dark background. A few days ago I came across it in the hallway and yes, there was a moment when I wondered whether it was the toy one or not. I very casually leaned down and picked it up by one leg with an outward appearance of supreme nonchalance, but if it had wriggled I'm sure I would have screamed like a little girl and jumped a metre into the air!

The only reason I knew it was probably not real is that I've been seeing my kids trying to trick each other with the same spider for days now ... every now and then our Cavegirl will stomp out of her room waving the spider angrily at her brothers while she lectures them about not leaving it on her pillow/in her wardrobe/under her bed for her to find. 

Of course, the culprit is always easily identified - the boy in question is usually so proud of their handiwork, he can't help but grin broadly and claim responsibility (which is inevitably followed by laughter and  a congratulatory high five from his brother).

Even the Caveman got in on the act, leaving the spider in the dish rack next to the sink yesterday in the hope that it would frighten me when I went to wash the dishes. Luckily, again, I realised immediately that it was a fake. 

Which brings us back to maturity - a choice my man is not a fan of. We seem to go through the "fake spider" phase every couple of years and he enjoys it even more than the kids do. I've seen him scare a number of people by leaving the toy on a chair for them to find. He doesn't discriminate either - he's done it to family, friends and even people we barely know! 

It's at those times I shake my head and wonder how I came to be married to such a juvenile man . Then I find myself wondering just how he'd react if I happened to slip the spider into his side of the bed tonight? 

Hmm ....  after all, I can't let him have all the fun ;-)

It's Showtime!!

Our town has just had its yearly "Show" ... you know, the event where livestock are paraded around, cakes are awarded ribbons and everyone spends too much money in Sideshow Alley and on showbags. Oh, and nearly everyone goes home with the added bonus of having caught every nasty virus that happens to be doing the rounds right now.

We don't normally go to the show. The rides are expensive and so is the food. With two adults and three kids, it's harder every year to justify the cost.

We decided to go this time though, just because our younger two kids were so keen - and our littlest Caveman hadn't been since he was a baby.

Unfortunately, he was a little under the weather (even before he ran into the collection of viruses already floating around at the show), so we knew it wouldn't be a long visit. We got there mid-afternoon and stayed about four hours. There were a couple of rides each and I even splashed out on a very expensive ice cream cone for my little guy.  His favourite part was riding the Dodgems (or "Dodging Cars", as he called them). I wished we'd got home sooner, before the cool night air had set in, but there really is nothing like the atmosphere of the show at night.

For the older kids, at this age the show is a real social event. Everywhere we turned we saw their friends and classmates. Our Cavegirl, aged 11, was thrilled to be allowed to separate from us and walk around the show with a friend for the first time ever. I'm sure her being away from us was much easier on her than it was on me - I kept my eyes peeled for her at every opportunity! As hard as it is to let them become more independent though, it's also great to see them having a good time with their own friends.

We left the show and bought dinner on the way home - yes, sadly, even takeaway is cheaper than show food.  We were home before the fireworks, which pleased the dog immensely since she really doesn't like them! We can see them from our street though, so that was a great way to end the night ... accompanied by the sound of our poor old girl barking away frantically in the back yard.

Expensive it might be, but no doubt we'll do it again in the future. It adds to the memories for the kids (and, despite our whining, we "big kids" really do enjoy it too!).

Happy to share

Tomorrow is Mother's Day here in Australia. I usually receive lovely little gifts from my gorgeous children and the Caveman makes an effort to get out of bed a bit earlier and help them get my breakfast as well. We don't go overboard, since it's too easy to get caught up in the commercialism of the day, but I always get to feel a bit more special (at least until the kids start arguing!).

This year though, I don't get to have the day all to myself.  Our littlest Caveman was born the day before Mother's Day, 6 years ago.  Thanks to the passage of time (and a couple of leap years), this is the first year his birthday has landed right on Mother's Day. Lucky for him, I don't mind sharing.

We decided to have his birthday party this afternoon, the day before his actual birthday (I figured asking all the other parents to give up THEIR Mother's Day for a 6 year old's party might have been pushing the friendships a little). Plus, I really could do without the extra stress tomorrow, when I'm supposed to be relaxing. Doing it today made much more sense. It has come on top of a very busy week though so, with the party guests gone, I'm now anticipating a foot rub and maybe even a glass of something strong before bed tonight.

I had a funny conversation with my little man the other day.  We were in the car and he had just eaten one of those chocolate eggs with the little toy inside.  He wanted to put the toy together, so he pulled out the instructions to look at.  I asked, "Are you sure you're right with that?  I can help you when we get to where we're going."  He assured me he would manage but then, after a few seconds consulting the instructions in silence, he threw them across the back seat of the car with a frustrated sigh and said, in his best grown up voice, "Well, that was a waste of time."  I asked what had gone wrong and he answered, "Well, first of all ... I can't read!"

Of course, that was stating the obvious - he is still learning to read. This is exactly what I find so amusing though; it's not what he says, but how he says it. He has always been our little entertainer.

His reading is coming along better than he thinks too ... he read every card given to him by his party guests today, with no problems at all.

Mother's Day is fantastic, it's great to feel appreciated by my family. We will have the Caveman's mum here as well, and my own mum knows she will be in my heart even though she lives too far away to visit for the day. This year though, it will be extra nice to celebrate a special birthday as well.

Happy Mother's Day to all mothers everywhere and a very happy birthday to my little Caveman xx

What's in the Box?

Our littlest Caveman came out from his bedroom last night, proudly carrying something that looked a little like a breathing mask in his hand. He put it over his mouth and nose, saying, "Look, Mum and Dad, it's one of those things that people use when they're having trouble breathing!"

Nice try, son. At this point, the only person having trouble breathing was his older brother, who had followed him down the hallway and was laughing so hard he couldn't catch his breath.

You see, our older boy plays cricket. I'm sure anyone who knows anything about cricket can already see where this is going.

For anyone unfamiliar with the game, one of the most important pieces of personal player equipment is a protector, or "box". Basically it's a triangular shaped article (and yes, moulded a little like a breathing mask) which is designed to be slipped down inside the front of the pants for the purpose of protecting a player's ... er ... even more important "personal equipment".

This was what our younger boy had picked up in his bedroom (which he shares with his brother) and had decided was a vital piece of first-aid equipment. Once the rest of us realised what he was actually holding, we all experienced trouble with our breathing - laughter can have that affect.

I explained to our little man that the article he was holding in his hand had nothing to do with breathing and suggested to his brother that he should explain to him what it actually was. In the privacy of their own bedroom, to save further embarrassment for either of them.

The two boys disappeared back down the hallway and I could hear the murmur of their voices as big brother talked to little brother about what he'd found. The next sound we heard from their room was a very loud "Eeeww!" from little brother. Cue more laughter from the rest of the house. Yes, now he knows what it's used for.

It was perfectly clean but, when he has a chance to think about it, I'll bet he wishes he hadn't put it anywhere near his face.

"Me" Time?

I'm feeling slightly ripped-off today.

I was looking forward to having the house completely to myself. I love those rare days when every other member of the family is away for the day. It's my idea of Heaven. I turn up the music and dance my way through the housework (and usually get a lot more done than on any other day). More importantly, when I'm done with cleaning I can relax and read a book - or spend an hour or three on the computer - knowing I won't be disturbed by anyone else.

Last week was a step in the right direction ... it was the first week of the new term at school, so the kids were out of the house all day, for 5 days in a row! The only person at home with me was the Caveman - which is a case of "situation normal", but I do get more done if he's gone as well. He doesn't interfere too much with my routine, but he gets in my way. It's surprising how much harder it can be to clean the house with even one extra person at home. Plus, he complains about the music I play (hey, we don't all want to rock out to "Bad to the Bone", while we're mopping).  Also, with him at home, there is more coffee and chat time - which means less housework done at the end of the day.

I got my hopes up when the Caveman was called up for two weeks of Jury Duty. He went along to the courthouse nearly every day last week, but didn't end up being selected so he was home by 10 am each day. This week, however, he has been selected for a jury - he was gone all day yesterday and all of today so far as well!

As it turns out though, there wasn't a lot of joy in this new development for me ... just as the Caveman made it onto a jury, two of the kids have come down with illnesses. My dreams of peace and quiet (and writing a blog about the joys of being home alone) have been crushed.  Instead, I'm looking after a teenager and pre-teen with nausea, headaches and the sniffles, as well as tripping over blankets and pillows in the lounge room (that's where the telly is so, naturally, that's where the kids have to be too).

The only advantage to all this is that, because I'm convinced they can't possibly do without their mum (whether they agree with that or not), I have the perfect excuse to abandon the housework for today and watch movies with them.

I think I can live with that.

Family Time

Our two week Easter school holiday break is nearly over. This is the stage of the holidays where some
parents can't wait for school to go back, while others wish the holidays didn't have to end. Lots of families have spent their holidays driving long distances to go camping or visiting relatives.

If we had done any of that, then I'm sure that is what this blog would have been about.

As it is, we have had what most people would consider a very boring school holiday break here in the Crazy Cave ... mostly spent with each other, in our own home.
 
We always look forward to the holidays - let's face it, it's great to let go of routines for a while. No need to get out of bed early in the morning and get everyone dressed, breakfasted and ready for the school run. No lunches to pack, uniforms to wash, homework to supervise. It's great!

These holidays have been particularly lazy for us ... with two weeks at our disposal, we could have organised all sorts of interesting activities. Normally we would have considered a trip to Brisbane to catch up with my family - but finances didn't allow for that this time. Another option would have been to make a couple of day trips (maybe to the cinema, the beach or a camping ground ... even a simple picnic at a local park). We haven't done that either. I could blame money again, or the fact that a couple of us began the holidays suffering from colds, or even the weather - there has been a lot of rain - but really we just haven't felt like leaving home.

For once, we have just been happy to stay in our cave and enjoy each other's company - and it really has been lovely. The kids have all been getting along well (here's hoping that continues) and they have also had a number of their friends come to visit. They have enjoyed being able to relax with their computer games, lego and books. Our family activities have included rearranging the boys' bedroom, watching some old movies together (with popcorn!) and beginning construction on a new guinea pig mansion for our five beautiful girls to move into. Sounds exciting, doesn't it?

Well, it got a lot more exciting when the Caveman caught his finger with the drill bit during construction of the mansion, but the doctor says it should heal nicely.

I am still optimistic that we might get to the cinema before school goes back next week. I also hope we'll be able to manage a picnic if the weather is kind to us between now and then as well. I do know the guinea pig mansion won't be finished this week - between the injured finger and the miserable weather, construction is now very slow ... but that's okay.

The important thing is that we are all relaxed. There has been no rushing around visiting other people, dealing with holiday traffic or spending money we can't justify. We have cooked together, played together, talked a lot (as all families should) and laughed a lot too.

Sometimes the best holidays are the ones you take at home.

Hoax Buster!

One of my treats, if I am up before everyone else in the house, is to sit in front of my computer, with my coffee, scrolling through my newsfeed on Facebook. It's nice to catch up on the latest news from my friends and family before I start the day.

I love Facebook. It's a great way to keep in touch with far-flung loved ones who I don't get to see or can't phone often because we live in different time zones. It's also handy for keeping up with local events, current affairs, other mums from the school ... as social networking goes, it's everything I need. It has made it easier for me to be in touch with people I haven't always kept up with in "real life" - I may not have spoken with someone from my school days for years, but we can share photos and keep each other informed of happenings in our lives and it feels like the friendship is kept alive, when it would have otherwise fallen by the wayside years ago. I have also been able to re-connect with people I hadn't seen or heard from for years (even decades!).

My only gripe with Facebook is the number of hoaxes filling up my Wall. This is not Facebook's fault. The blame here lies entirely with people who follow others and share blindly without checking facts - rather unkindly referred to as "sheeple".

Anyone who has had anything to do with Facebook will know the kind of thing I'm referring to ... everything from famous people being credited with speeches they didn't actually make (Bill Gates, Bill Cosby, Robin Williams, to name a few), sick children and injured animals to those touching "memes" that ask you to "share if you are against (insert word here)" - drink driving, abuse, racism, cancer, bullying, etc. The underlying message is that if I don't share, I don't have a heart.

Of course I am against all those things ... but sharing a picture on Facebook isn't going to do anything to help the cause. No doctor is going to treat a child according to how many "likes" they get and sharing pictures of injured animals does nothing except cause distress to animal lovers who see them. Trying to push me into sharing something if I'm against bullying is a form of bullying in itself - a bit ironic really.

That's not to say I don't like all the memes I see. The difference is, if I want to share a lovely poem that has the usual "Share if..." at the bottom of it, I will type it out myself as a status update, or even google the poem - chances are it can be found on another picture, without the added line, and that's the one I'll share.

I was joking just last week that I am probably getting a reputation as a "hoax-buster" among my friends. The person I was speaking to immediately responded with "Yes, you are!". I was a bit hurt by this, to start with. I don't like to think I am annoying anyone by pointing out if something they have shared isn't true - I guess I prefer to think that I'm being helpful. My usual response is to share a link to an article as proof that something is fake, along with a friendly message and a smiley face emoticon so they know I'm not trying to upset them (because we all know a smiley face fixes everything, right?).

Then, when I thought about it more, I realised that I was being too sensitive. There are plenty of other people out there who share their opinions with others without a second thought for whether they are offending anyone. If anything, I've always been a bit mousy and shy about having my own opinions, especially if others disagree with them. So I am now happy to be a hoax-buster. I suppose it could be considered a form of research - which, if I'd discovered this enjoyment earlier, could have led to all sorts of interesting career opportunities too!

I try not to comment too often - I know that can be annoying, just like someone picking others up on their spelling all the time. That's another gripe of mine actually - incorrect spelling - but I am proud to say I've managed to turn a blind eye for the most part where Facebook is concerned.

I do prefer not to take things too seriously, including Facebook. When it comes to the Share memes, I generally just scroll past without commenting at all. I often get a giggle at seeing just how many hoaxes do the rounds over and over again. I am also aware that none of my friends would knowingly share anything false - they really think they're helping in some way, and who can blame them for that?

The Caveman used to call me "Madam Teacher" (he is a terrible speller, so he has often found himself on the receiving end of my corrections!), but now it's "Madam Google". I guess there are worse things to be called.

Oh, time to end with a smiley ... :-)

Easter Fun

It's Easter and my kids have just completed a treasure hunt. Not for the eggs the Easter Bunny brings - they will come later in the day and just be scattered across the floor while the kids are playing outside. The treasure hunt was for the chocolate treat their Dad and I bought them.

Rather than just give them their eggs/bunnies, we will hand the kids a clue written on a piece of paper. Something like "Look inside the washing machine". There they will find the next clue ... and so on. It makes it so much fun for everyone, the kids love following the clues and we love watching them run around the house wondering if the next clue will give the location of the "prize".

We discovered the treasure hunt when our teenager was in Preschool. He was having some trouble learning his words and we wanted to help. We did the usual trick of labeling objects around the house, little stickers everywhere with "door", "shelf", "bed", etc, written on them. At some point though, we came up with the idea of a treasure hunt - something that would really get his interest and inspire him to WANT to read the words on the paper. I went and bought him a very cheap little toy and we buried it in a box in the sandpit. Then I wrote out the clues (at his age then, I drew pictures beside the words to help him). He loved it, following each clue until he dug up his prize from the sand. It was a lot of fun for him and, as a reading activity, it worked a treat.

Since then, treasure hunts have been a semi-regular feature in the Crazy Cave. We have used it for birthday presents and other special occasions, as well as just for a fun activity every now and then.

For today's hunt, I changed things up a little. Usually the three kids walk around as a group, finding the clues and reading them together until they get to the prize. The older two are great at helping their little brother with the clues (and of course he is now the one who benefits most from this exercise as a reading activity).

This time I had them working in a group for the first half dozen clues, then they found one that said they should each look under their own pillow. From there, they had separate clues to follow, which turned out to be even more fun - they were all moving in different directions and at different speeds. It was great to just watch and enjoy their enthusiasm - which is always the best part for parents.

When the Easter Bunny comes, he'll scatter a few dozen small eggs on the floor which the kids will then race around collecting when they come in and see them there. It's still the main event, but maybe on a smaller scale than in most homes. Partly because we only have one "believer" in the house - although his big brother and sister are great at playing along and getting into the spirit of the day for him - and also because it's the way we've always done it.

Mythical creatures don't get a lot of credit in our house, they are more of a token symbol (I'm the same about Santa, actually ... he only fills the stockings. Maybe it's selfish, but I like the kids to know the big expensive gifts come from us!).

I wish you all a very happy Easter, whether you celebrate it from a religious perspective or just as a devoted chocoholic like me :-)

On a Serious Note ...

 
It's time for a serious blog. This one is about my man having Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I started typing about it a few weeks ago, but decided not to share it because it was so long (and depressing to read - I must have needed to vent that day!). The reality is though, living with a long-term chronic illness is not easy ... for the sufferer or their loved ones.

So, since this is my blog and what I share here may be helpful to someone else, I have decided to share an insight into our life with anyone who would care to read on ...

The Caveman has had CFS since his mid-twenties - around fifteen years now. It started with a bout of Glandular Fever a few years before that, which apparently caused what the doctors called "Cyclic Fatigue" ... meaning simply that symptoms of chronic fatigue came and went.

He would be well for a while, settle into a new job, then come down with CFS and lose that job as a result, be well again a few months later, find a new job, then come down with it again .... well, you get the idea. Most employers don't have a lot of patience with a worker who just can't get himself out of bed in the morning because of an "invisible" illness.

CFS is not a very well understood condition and was even less so back in the nineties. A lot of people just didn't believe it was a real condition, so the reaction my man got from employers was also exhibited by his friends, associates and even family members, who thought he was being lazy and should try harder. Never mind that, when I first met him, he had a great work ethic. He had a very physical job and loved it.  He was also incredibly fit, going to the gym regularly and playing competitive cricket every weekend - he was a formidable fast bowler - the epitome of the expression "work hard, play hard".
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After being cyclic for a period of time, it progressed into full-blown CFS. In the years since then, I have lost count of the number of doctors he has seen and blood tests he has had, with no clear answers as to what causes this or what can be done about it. Then there are all the times well-meaning people have said to us, "Oh, I knew someone who had that and they got rid of it by trying (insert random alternative therapy here)". We know it's natural for people to share ideas that they really believe will work and we are still open to suggestions. The fact is, every case is different and, after all these years, we haven't come across any definitive cure. He has tried dietary changes, lifestyle changes, hot/cold therapy, various vitamin supplements, crystals, massage, counselling (in case it was being triggered by something emotional) ... the list goes on. No-one can explain why he has had it for so long either.

CFS has had a huge impact on the Caveman's self-esteem and confidence. He is on a pension as he hasn't been able to work for years. He has suffered from severe depression as he came to terms with not being able to work and provide for his family. He has put on weight, but it is a struggle for him to perform even basic regular exercise to get rid of it. He still plays cricket with a local team during Summer, to try to maintain some level of fitness and self-belief, but he has had to give up fast bowling and focus more on batting - he has become a big hitter of the ball so that he doesn't have to do much running between the wickets. He gets tired, angry, frustrated and downright moody at times, because he can't live the life he wants to.

As for the impact on the rest of us ... well, I get tired and frustrated too. We joke that he is my fourth child, and it's true that I often have to look after him as well as the kids. The fact that he is at home full-time, while I've been a full-time mum, meant a major adjustment to our relationship - most couples get a break from each other and the "daily grind" for at least a few hours a day. I sometimes envy my friends who have fit, healthy husbands - I know they don't cringe at the thought of other people asking what their man does for a living. Then I feel guilty, as though I am letting my husband down by even thinking that way.

It's hard on the kids as well. They know their Dad can't do a lot of running around with them. They don't get to see him going off to work every day like all the other Dads. They know that, because of the lack of work income, we can't afford to do a lot of the great things they see their friends doing. As much as we've tried to shield them from it, they have even heard other people talk about what their much-loved Dad "should" be able to do.

Those things hurt. The Caveman worries enough about the example he sets for our kids. Like any decent father, he just wants to be a good role model for them.

Despite all this, we do look for the positives. He enjoys being a full-time Dad. He has seen milestones that other Dads often miss out on. When he has the energy, he helps out at school and with any other activities our kids are involved in. He is a good husband - my best friend, in fact - which means us being together 24/7 is not always the hardship it might be for some couples. He is very supportive of my efforts to get back into the workforce and I know that, if I get a job that doesn't fit in with school hours, he will pick up the slack for me where the kids are concerned.

He is a genuinely funny guy, as well as being easy to talk to, and we usually find something to laugh about in almost any situation. When we have had an added hardship to deal with - my post natal depression, his father's death - I have admired the inner strength he has shown. He is optimistic about getting healthier (and back to work) as time goes on and I have faith in him achieving that goal.

Of course there are difficulties, especially if he is having a particularly bad day, but we work through them together. In many ways, this experience has made us stronger as a couple and closer as a family.

This journey through CFS has a big impact on our day-to-day lives, as well as our relationships with other people. We have learned to take each day as it comes and accept that there will always be others who refuse to believe it's really that bad - it's another one of those experiences you just don't understand unless you go through it yourself (and we wouldn't wish it on anyone).

Ours is certainly not the only family living with a chronic illness, nor do we have the worst one to deal with. We work on keeping our sense of humour and being thankful for what we do have ... making the most of the life we have now and trusting that there is a brighter future ahead.

But it said Anti Burst ...

Here in the Crazy Cave, we have recently re-discovered exercise (or balance) balls. You know, the big inflatable balls that you sit on and do exercises (to strengthen your core muscles, among other things).

I say "re-discovered" because I had one about ten years ago. I absolutely loved it for the couple of months that I used it daily - I was so toned and fit! Then the ball developed a leak. As it slowly deflated (and I didn't rush out and buy another one), my interest waned. Bad move ... I lost all that beautiful muscle tone I'd worked so hard to achieve.

Not that I really cared at the time, life was so busy with a house renovation and two small children to take care of. I looked back fondly on my time with my ball as one of those exercise "fads" that we all experience at some point.

Back to the present ... a little before Christmas, the Caveman and I were discussing the back pain he had been experiencing. We figured out that the seat he was sitting on while using the computer was probably causing the problem. Our solution was to buy a couple of exercise balls, thinking that they would be better for posture while sitting at the computer and they could be used for fitness as an added bonus.

It was a brilliant idea. The Caveman was absolutely thrilled with his new "computer chair" and the spare one we got was well used by the kids and myself too - it made a great spare seat in front of the telly AND we got to exercise with it as well!

Also, of course, it gave the boys in the house (and I include the Caveman in this) much cause for lots of jokes referring to "their balls".

Then the hot season arrived. In our research before buying the balls we had double checked things like what size ball you should have for your height and how firm the balls should be when fully inflated. We even made sure we bought the "Anti Burst!!" type. What we didn't find out was that it is a good idea to release some air from the balls in hot or humid weather, as they expand in the heat.

This was a lesson learned the hard way. I arrived home from a trip into town recently, only to be greeted by my children with giggled warnings. "Mum, whatever you do, don't laugh at Dad when he tells you what happened while you were gone." What?? I went inside to check on the Caveman, only to be told that his ball had burst in the heat. Worse, he had been sitting on it at the time.

Luckily my man can laugh at himself. He wasn't offended by the fact that I couldn't help chuckling as he regaled me with the dramatic story of his sudden trip to the floor, landing on his hip. There he was, concentrating intently on something he was reading on the screen, when all of a sudden .. BANG! Followed quickly by THUMP as he hit the floor. He hit his elbow on the way down but was otherwise okay. Stunned, but okay.

We still have the spare ball, which is used mostly by our teenager, but even he has fallen off it and bruised his tailbone.

The moral of the story is that exercise balls are great for improving core strength and posture, as long as you're using them sensibly and remember to let out some air at the height of Summer.

It might take a while, but I'm sure one day the Caveman will consider sitting on one again.

All Toys Welcome

The Caveman was getting our kids into bed the other night when I heard him say "Stay in bed and settle down, or I'll take your Barbies away."

There is nothing unusual about this ... apart from the fact that he was standing in the doorway of our sons' room when he said it.

That's right ... one of our boys loves Barbie dolls. A room that has long been the domain of Thomas, Lego, Hot Wheels and various types of sporting gear has now been invaded by a group of small shapely blondes.

I've never been too picky about what our kids play with - if our daughter wants to build something with blocks, or race toy cars in the dirt, we're fine with that. If our boys want to wear dresses, or play with dolls or tea sets, that's fine too. The Caveman and I always figured it was better to not set gender-specific rules for them when it came to toys. It often turns out they will gravitate toward the more stereotypical items as they get older anyway; our boys both love construction and our girl went through the usual "Fairies and Princesses" phase that most girls seem to experience at some point.

So, it didn't bother me at all that our five year old got excited about his big sister culling her Barbie doll collection recently. He sat with her while she sorted through them, working out which ones she was happy to let go of, then patiently letting him choose which ones of those he would like to keep. He took his new responsibility as a doll-owner very seriously - when the sorting was done, they even put the Barbies in a tub and gave them a bath.

I have no idea what he plans to do with his new dolls ... he's going through a pretty strong "Star Wars" stage at the moment, so no doubt he will have them swinging lightsabers and using the Force on each other for weeks to come. On the other hand, he might build them some furniture out of Lego, or even have them riding his dinosaurs.

He is a great doll-owner, from my point of view. Unlike his sister, he isn't interested in all the accessories that go along with them, so I don't have to clean up (or trip over) little bits and pieces that have been left on the floor. The Barbies tend to stay naked too - he doesn't care about putting clothes on them, which is pretty much in line with his attitude toward clothing for himself!

He is such a character. I actually got some sneaky photos of him last week, running around in the back yard, in the mud, playing "Star Wars".  He was dressed in only a pair of undies, with a shower cap on his head and brandishing his toy lightsaber at imaginary figures as he went. It was a joy to watch. I do love seeing how kids get caught up in their own imaginations.

Those photos might come in handy in the future too ...

The Keys to my Fridge?

We currently have two cars.  For one of them we have three keys (one for each of us and a spare).  For our other car we have only one set of keys.  We had a second set, which we lost over a year ago and we still haven't got around to replacing.  That situation is changing very soon.

I had to make a mad dash home from the shops today, after discovering that I had two sets of car keys with me - one for the car I had driven to the shops and one for the car I had left at home for the Caveman to drive to his cricket match. That's right, the car with only one set of keys.

Luckily I had finished what I was doing at the shops, so I was able to leave immediately.  Also luckily, it was early enough that he hadn't had to turn the house upside down looking for the keys just yet, but I knew I was pushing it to get there in time.  I drove with visions in my head of my man getting very grumpy because the keys weren't hanging up where they should have been and then conducting a frantic search of each room in the house, getting more panicked by the minute.

I've seen this routine before.

You can imagine my relief when I got home to a very calm husband, who actually laughed when I told him I had the keys he needed.  It turned out I had confused the time he was meant to leave and he hadn't even thought about looking for keys yet!

It reminded me though, of another time we lost the car keys.  We only had one car at the time - you guessed it, that same car with only one set of keys.  I had been shopping for groceries, come home and put the shopping away.  The car wasn't needed again until the next day - again, for cricket.  It wasn't until the Caveman was about to walk out the door to go to his match that we noticed the keys were missing.

Madness ensued .. the whole family got involved, pockets and handbags were checked, we searched the table, benches, bedrooms, under the lounges, on top of the fridge and pantry, even inside the fridge and pantry.  Finally we accepted defeat and a phone call was made to a team mate who arrived, laughing, to give my poor frazzled man a ride to cricket in his car.

I waved goodbye to them as they drove away and went back inside the house to relax.  I figured the keys would turn up once I stopped stressing about where they were - and I was right.  A little while later one of the kids asked me for an apple, which jogged my memory ... a memory of juggling three or four bags of shopping at once as I entered the house the day before (in a hurry, as always) and of absentmindedly throwing my keys into the bag of apples.  Naturally.

It's been a long-running joke in our house, as we get older, that if something is lost you should check in the fridge. All joking aside though, I would have assumed that the missing item would be in plain sight on a shelf. Not this time. I went to the fridge, pulled out the crisper drawer and opened the bag of apples - and there were the car keys.  Well chilled, but otherwise unharmed.

After my sigh of relief came the realisation that I would have to call the Caveman and own up to my mistake ... knowing that he would take pleasure in telling all the other guys in his team.  It took me a while to live down the embarrassment of that day!

It's definitely time to organise that second set of keys.

Guinea Pigs vs Spiders

We got ourselves two more guinea pigs yesterday.  We now have five - all girls (we don't want any surprise babies!).

I didn't think we would do the guinea pig thing with our kids.  They seem to be a common pet among most families at some point, but they never held any interest for me.  I like dogs and cats.  The Caveman and I have also had a few budgies and goldfish along the way .. not to mention the other, more unusual creatures we've allowed our kids to take in.  We have cared for silkworms, various types of lizards, injured birds, a turtle that had wandered away from a creek and more "pet" spiders than I care to remember.

I used to have a phobia about spiders.  The very thought of a spider being in the same room as me would have the hair on the back of my neck standing up.  There was once a huntsman in our bedroom that the Caveman had to remove before I would even consider entering the room.  I stood in the doorway while he was attempting to catch it, with a container and lid, on the opposite wall and I still squealed every time it moved.  The strange thing was, despite my intense fear of them, I didn't like spiders being killed.  I understood that most would prefer to be outside anyway and, as long as that's where they were, they weren't doing me any harm.  Once that spider in the bedroom was released into the garden unharmed, I was happy.

Then there was the time we were driving along in our car and another huntsman crawled along the inside of my car door, right beside my arm. I saw it and completely freaked out, unbuckling my seat belt and launching myself into the Caveman's lap while he was driving!  Not a safe thing to do at all but in the panic of the moment my fear didn't allow a lot of room for sensible thought.  The car was an older style with a bench seat in the front, so scrambling over into the back seat wasn't really practical until we had pulled over and stopped (which my man managed very well, considering I was blocking most of his view).  That spider was also released unharmed, although I was left a little shaken and apologising profusely to a rather grumpy Caveman!

The cure for my phobia came in the form of our first child, now our teenager.  I didn't want to pass on my phobia to him, so I learned to stay very calm if he was nearby when I saw a spider.  As it turned out, he did better than not catching my fear - he actually developed a love for the creatures.  As a toddler he would often come to me saying, "Mummy, look what I found!", only to open up his chubby little hand and show me a spider he'd picked up in the garden.  (Of course, he admits now that he was bitten by quite a few ... it's just lucky they weren't deadly).

Our solution was to buy him a bug catcher - it meant he could catch spiders "hands-free" and keep them for a few days before releasing them.  We would catch moths to drop into the bug catcher for our "pet" to eat and, to my surprise, even I started to find spiders more interesting.

I guess it's true that the best way to overcome your fears is to face them head on.  Through trying not to pass on my phobia and learning more about spiders, I ended up being much more comfortable with them than I ever expected.  I still don't like them in the house but, if I do see one, I don't freak out and I am happy to do the "catch and release" myself (most of the time anyway).

I think, after some of the pets we've had, I can be quite happy with guinea pigs!