Vonerable

This is what it looks like

through the camera lens of a seven and nine year old. There's a lot of time spent looking through the side windows of the car, some grumpy siblings, towering adults, blinding sun, and the joy of spinning fast in the playground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

    

 

We are recovering from a TKO 12-hour gastro (5 of us in one 24-hour period) and packing for our holidays so I probably won't get back here for a few days. "Happy New Year" to you all. Even if you found your way here by misspelling "vulnerable" (it happens a lot) or by Googling, "eye shrinkage" or "caffeine sniffing". Note to self: do not use post titles that might also be search terms for obscure ailments or habits.

 

xo

It's all very quiet now

There were 24 of us on Christmas day and 15 of us yesterday. After two days of squealing children, clatter in the kitchen, people in conversation throughout the house, a disco, and constant carols in the background, we are on a sensory diet. I did not even have my iPod on today. That never happens. Just relishing the relative calm (wouldn't really desribe our children as 'calm'), but so glad for the blessing of a life full of family and friends. And that they so enjoy each other's company!

         

  

 

        

   

 

The Night Before

 

Weren't the reindeer gorgeous?! So fleet of foot and red of nose. So delicately nibbling the carrots you left out.

 

 

The ones that landed in your yard.

 

 

On Christmas Eve.

You know!

 

 

C'mon .... the REIN-deer.

No?!

 

 

You didn't have reindeer on Christmas Eve?!

 

 

Oh, that's too bad. 

I bet I know why.

 

              

You forgot the Christmas Eve Reindeer Food didn't you?! Silly!

If you live too far from the North Pole to pop into Santa's shop to buy some you could, in a pinch, make a mixture of oats and glitter. Reindeer are very partial to glitter and it helps them spot your yard from the sky. Or so Super Boy told me. It certainly worked for us. On Christmas morning there were many reindeer hoof prints and, um, some droppings.

 

It was

fairy lights and feathers 

   

gumnuts and tinsel   

     

oats and glitter for reindeer  

   

gathering

 

    

lame jokes   

   

bon bons    

 

ill-fitting hats and beautiful Aunties

 

the 4.00pm snooze 

 

wonderful

noisy

feast

laugh

rip

cuddle

splash

flicker

sip

groove

bubbles

joy

 

To You

Merry Christmas to you, one and all. Today will be 38^o (100 F). It's an Aussie Christmas, for sure!

 

Everyone should have one

We just might scrape into Christmas Day with all the jobs done...it will be close. Discovered this morning that our pool pump is broken and Geronimo has an ear infection, so not quite as prepared as we otherwise might have been. Which is to say, we've gone from "I wonder if we'll pull it off" to jetisoning some plans.

 

   

If we do wake up tomorrow with boxes ticked it will have a lot to do with my personal elf, Twirly. Who wouldn't want to hear, "Is there anything else I can wrap?" or "Let's make a list of what we need to cook tonight, Mum"? She has been a lifesaver and seems to be enjoying all the fussing. As we speak, she is melting copha to make some more coconut ice. This recipe has converted me, but leave out about 1/4 or 1/3 of the sugar. It's what we made for neighbours and some of the teachers along with this rocky road.

 

 

12 Days in Toto

You're tired. You're up late wrapping Christmas presents and printing out your annual letter for the relies. You need something other than endless cups of tea to keep you going. Try this:

 

   

 

Then put these on the tree. They're made for Oxfam and look as good as they feel morally. Also, they make excellent gifts for teachers when you can't face making bucketloads of rocky road. But you might have to go back to the Oxfam shop to repurchase the ones you gave away because you really wanted them for yourself. Thats okay! Noble, even. Now you know where to go next year. Or tomorrow.

Infinite

Vondafone have asked me, because we're tight, what I would like an infinite amount of. Hmmmm. My initial thoughts: (i) Caredent Periotape, because my stockpile is running low and I feel panicky about having to switch brands, (ii) Patience, (iii) Fairy lights, or (iv) West Wing episodes (if they can bring back Polaroid film, surely Sorkin can have another crack at it now they have Obama in the real Oval Office). I finally settled on: a bottomless cup of tea as made by my man because I'm too slapdash to make it well and he has prioritised his career over staying home and making my beverages. 

However, if I had to choose something for my children to have an endless supply of it would be:

a certainty that they are loved

An unassailable conviction that despite how they feel, how they are received, how they fare, they are loved. That their status as a cherished person is absolute, invulnerable and eternal. I'm talking about our love for them as parents, naturally, but also, the fact that they are loved and celebrated unconditionally by God. If they grasp that they are fiercely loved 24/7 they will be dangerous.

 

 

Thank you, Vodaphone, for the prompt to articulate something fundamental and galvanising. Now I must cook dinner so they can get to bed on time or they'll be so grumpy tomorrow, my unconditional love will slink off in search of that perfect cup of tea.

   

P.S. Check out their infinite plans