Shout me a drink

Last night we had dinner at the local pub.  Ginger and Peta loved the beer garden and let me know in no uncertain terms that they would be having fish’n'chips.

I indulged in a wine.  It was totally necesary once I read the description of the shiraz on the board (smells like the inside of a lady’s handbag; tastes like a man’s wallet).  My meal of swordish was a bit salty with its bed of mash and olives so I wanted a glass of lime and soda to refresh the palate.

Ginger wanted to order me the drink at the bar.  She and Peta excitedly made their way with babbo at hand.  She practised her order “lime and soda, lime and soda, lime and soda….”

The bar staff asked for her order but she was very low comapred to the bar height and babbo had to raise her.  She then propmpty requested a “slime and loda”.  You should have some next time you order the fish meal.

Ginger’s banter

Ginger made up a  great joke today.  We were discussing oak trees while she was having a hard-boiled egg, courtesy of Nellie (or perhaps Ivy).  She said:  “A yoak is a tree that grows eggs.”

The other day she walked into the room and spied something she really loved and claimed:  “That is delightful!”  I love hearing her talk like a woman of 82.

Show offs

1.  New haircuts for little girl, big girl and very very big girl (but no need to show off about that last one).  Little girl about to turn three, makes her way to the hair salon with handbag, sunnies and hat for this special milestone.  She squeals:  “Mamma, I so excited!”  Rat’s tales from babyhood are finally cut off.  Big girl loves the whole process just like her little sister.  She now looks like a child of the 30s with her new bob.  Very cute.  She celebrated by making pretend ’stew’ all afternoon.

It's a fine bob, Ginger

Let go of me

Ingredients for stew

2.  Little girl turns big girl 3 on Anzac Day and smiles all day.

3.  I bake my first real birthday cake for little girl turning big girl 3.   It’s a lion cake.  Both little girls pretend to be scared of the lion.  It’s the best reaction I could have had.

My first real birthday cake

Giggles, not tears, this time

More birthday afternoon tea treats

Blowing out number three

They are actually scared of lions.  Once, at the zoo, we were watching the lion pride.  The lions were sort of lolling about when a zoo official made a public announcement on the PA system.  One of the males stood up with arched back and fanned mane, and roared a ginormous roar.  RAAAAAAAAAAAA!  Impressive.

I commented out loud on the thrill of it all.   Problem was there was no one there beside me to respond to my harmless banter.  The two little girls who had been beside me were about 500m away crying effusively and screaming about lions coming to eat them up, refusing to go anywhere near the lion enclosure.  It took about 20 minutes to calm them down.

They don’t like lions.  Who would have thought it?

Cute things they say #5

Ginger, 4 years, 6 months old:

Ginger: Yuk.  (About her sister.)

Me:  Stop saying that to her.  It upsets her because she thinks you are calling her yuk.

Ginger: It’s only an expression mum.  It actually means “Yum, nice”.

Nice try!!

Ginger  when seeing the water sprinklers across the road : Why are there water sprouts on the oval?

Ginger playing with Peta in the shower: This drink is poison. It kills people who drink it.  It’s for people who want to be dead.  If other people say they are ugly or yucky then they can drink the poison and be dead.

Ginger: Mummy, I just did a burp and it tasted like salad.  I think I eat too much salad.

Peta, 2 years, 10 Months:

Peta: I like babbo.  He is nicer than crocodiles.  Crocodiles bite with their sharp teeth.

Ginger, 4 years, 7 months old:

Mum, look, I’m painting just like Jackson Pollock.

Ginger was playing at the local playground with her cousins.  The big slide is a complicated bit of machinery with climbing frames, portholes and viewing platforms, lots of steps.  She was instructing all the two-year olds on how to navigate this ‘rocket ship’ but got sidetracked  and commented as follows:  I’ve got to go on the swing now.  I’ve just paused the rocketship and I’ll be back later.

Peta, 2 years, 11 Months:

Peta, at three o’clock in the morning with eyes wide open: If the Beatles have a song called daddy, daddy, daddy then I could sing daddy, daddy, daddy but the Beatles don’t have a song called daddy, daddy, daddy, so I can’t sing daddy, daddy, daddy.

I’m glad that’s all sorted.  Can it wait until the morning next time?

Captain Beefheart was playing on the stereo.   Peta was very excited and shouted out of the blue:  He’s just like Captain Feathersword.  Is he a pirate?

Oh, he’s definitely a pirate, darling.

The girls also heard The Slits on the radio this morning.  Their punk reggae version of Marvin Gaye’s”I Heard it on the Grapevine” (Bassline according to the lovely Slits) really got their attention.  Peta cried when I turned off the stereo and got us out of the car.  She implored me to pause the song for when she returned.

Big smiles

Perfect days are those where we have big smiles.  Yesterday, Peta and Ginger woke up late (8.30am).  Some smiles right there from babbo and mamma.  After breakfast Peta and Ginger ink stamped just about everything in sight and Peta drew her first figurative image.  It was a black texta picture of babbo.  I’ll have to photograph it. Then we spent the morning at the Children’s Garden at the Botanic Gardens.  We picked up R who took her place in the backseat of the car between Ginger the bunny rabbit and Peta the possum.  There were lots of giggles and Peta pretended that R was her mum.

The Children’s Garden has finally grown into a dense rainforest, market garden, lush lavender field,  and waterway sanctuary.  The water features have finally been activated following approval by the water authority and it is enticing to little feet as well as captivating big folk.  There is a living bamboo house, dense bamboo forest, light and shade, bumps and flats, rocks and grass,  and texture and colour.

Dirty and smiley monkeys

Ginger the talker (it never stops)

Ginger the runner

Peta the eater

Peta the smiler

Our stomachs rumbled so off we went in search of food as peaches, nectarines and strawberries didn’t do the job.  We found a solitary place open in Smith Street and enjoyed Japanese noodles, gyoza, tempura and beer (ahem, me only). R was dropped off at home and we resumed the search for wine barrels as tree pots.  Mission accomplished, we spent the rest of the day sorting out the vegie garden and edible pot plants.  Have I mentioned that we also have two bantam silkies named Nellie and Ivy?  Don’t you love the way chooks have old lady names.  I wanted to name them Patti and Debbie but was vetoed by the dirty monkeys. J did most of the hard work and was rewarded by children sticking out their bottoms to him.  They were paid back by having some water dumped on them.  Smiley faces were aghast at the nerve of him. And guess who ate all their dinner of roast lamb and three veg.  Ginger and Peta, that’s who.  More smiles.

Cute things they say #4

Peta, 2 and a half years old:

This one tastes like tomatoes.  This one tastes like strawberries.  (Referring to breastfeeding flavours.  )

I have nappy ache.  (Trying to get out of eating dinner.)

Peta, 2 years and 8 months:

Have you been in the fridge?  (Questions J after he has cycled home from the gym.)

Ginger, 4 years and 3 months:

After not eating a Thai green curry one night for dinner, ginger made it perfectly clear what she wanted the following night:  “I don’t want Japanese or Chinese food.  I want Orstralyan food that tastes yummy!!!!!”

One evening out of the blue, Ginger phoned babbo on his mobile phone.  He happened to be in the next room when he answered it.  I hadn’t been paying attention.  She normally only phones when he is at work and we have left his number written in large numerals next to the landline phone.  This time the piece of paper with his number wasn’t near the phone.  She had remembered the whole number and dialed it!!

The questions, oh the questions.

We visit the market every Tuesday for our grocery shopping.  It’s a great day.  Not too busy, always done in the morning to provide a great excuse for a Turkish borek and hot chocolate.

Today, we were walking away from our parked car to the where the action happens.  Two women walked past in gothic black and a small child of about 5 years of age trailing behind.  The kid was very cute and wore dishevelled rockstar hair, a Halloween style Tshirt with a skeleton frame image on black background and runners worthy of the Ramones. Both women had seriously dreadlocked and coloured hair, one orange, the other purple.  Their attire was not scant at all, and seemed to be voluminous and tight at the same time.  I could just make out full-armed tattoos.  They were breathtakingly urbane in a black eyeliner sort-of-way.

About a nanosecond after we walked past them, Ginger pipes up:  “Mum, are those ladies witches?”

What we do

I’m here to report that I, yes, little old I, can make some things. Admittedly it’s not the fast-paced juggernaut of knitting (I’m looking at you Kelley Deal) or the cool crafty salt-of-the-earth retro sewing gig that a lot of mums have going on. I need to find a tutor who will will teach me knitting and sewing.

Mum has been whipping up some outfits for Ginger. There is one cord pants and vest number that makes her look like a dancer in the video for Moskau, Moskau by Genghis Khan.  Not that I know what that video looks like.  Oh heck, of course, I do.  I just YouTubed- not very handsome men.  Too much shiny fabric and fluffy hair. Check out the translation. I just imagine Ginger squatting and jumping with Ruski verve every time she wears it. It has a certain ethnic flair to it.

I shouldn’t josh like that. Really, mum is a master of thread and fabric. If only I could make her sit down long enough to teach me how to sew with flair. My ideas and her technical expertise would make a great combination. I’m so keen to make a garden dress for Ginger with foliage and buds. I’d like to make a more demented version too with toadstools and bugs and delicate moss.

So what have our fingers racked up this winter gone?

I have made short crust pastry, puff pastry, pies, chocolate cakes (hard as rock though), lemon delicious pudding, pizzas from scratch including dough.  Ginger and Peta have helped with kneading and mixing.  Of course, they have also tasted.

I have created a craft box for Ginger’s birthday full of lovingly cut our pictures from mags and cards, sparkles, ribbons, buttons, transfers and stickers from gorgeous friends, curios, gluesticks, craft idea books, cookbook recipes for children.

I have helped mum establish our vegetable garden with lots of good food for our kitchen table.  We never buy lettuce or silverbeet or peas from the market anymore.  I have weeded and fed scraps to our worms in their clever little farm.  I have composted and trudged out with bucket loads of water form our rinses to feed seedlings and trees in pots.

J—- has made a small water tank from a derelict wheelie bin to hydrate the soil around the perimeter of the house.  He has set up a chicken coop, fenced of the vegie patch and allowed for future chooks to free range throughout the rest of the backyard.  He has set up the girls’ room with sea creatures hanging from teh ceiling and all their momentoes from our trip to Japan.  It’s only taken a year but that’s what winter is for: catching up with the things we must do.

Now we can sit under the neighbour’s palm tree which straddles our backyard and watch all the spring growth.

Cute things they say #3

Ginger, nearly 4, as retold by babbo

I have remembered the fairy name she came up with yesterday: Fairy Colossalus.

I thought it was a great fairy name. I was imagining a childrens’ book about a little girl who dreams of being a fairy and magically wakes up in fairy land, only to find that compared to the fairies there, she is big, clumsy and a walking disaster.

Ginger, 4 years and 1 month

We talked about different types of bridges and what they are used for: cars, buses, trains, people, bicycles. The footbridge next to our home is being altered to suit cyclists who will no longer need to cross the road once it is finished. Ginger talked about it’s current users: “It’s one for pedestrians, and people and humans…and bumble bees.”

Peta, 2 years and 2 months

The girls often pine for their father when he is working. They ask why he can’t stay at home. I explain that he works so he can bring home the bacon. They love the sound of that : yum, bacon. The other day, I asked Peta where her father was. She explained that he was at work. Then she claimed: “He brings home the pizza!” Let’s hope it’s family size.

After reaching two years of age, J—- and I decided to try and encourage Peta to sleep for longer stretches at night. We call it the ‘tough love’ approach. No lengthy reading or procrastianting. Ginger objected a bit but then zzzz’d off straight away. Now Peta…..she cried and screamed as expected. However, she gave up the fight after a good 20 minutes. Incredible outcome. The second night the crying lasted for about 3 minutes. Peta stirred when Ginger screamed for water, then she did a very good impersonation of a two year old in deep slumber. Kerplonk, just like that. I could have wept but was too frightened of waking her up. Instead I creeped down the stairs with J—- and then did a flying leap into his arms and jigged around the living room a la a drunken cheer leader on prom night. At 11.45pm, like I knew she would, she screamed and cried and got out of her cot (no side). We put her back in. I tried to distract her with fuzzy thoughts: Are you going to dream about Ginger’s birthday? Should we make her a pink cake? Do you want to hold Leo your lion? This stopped the tears a few times, enough to induce sleep again.

In the first week of our tough love tactics, this is what Peta shouts at James when she then wakes up in the middle of the night, wanting his attention: “I sick!! Give me medicine! Now!!” She cracks me up. It’s not true, the part about her being ill and requiring pain killers. She just says it to get him to go to her room. Very imaginative, our Peta. Or sometimes she screams: “Ididda wee, get me new nappy now!!!!” Or “Give me some pepperment tea!” She obviously has a fine palette and needs some help digesting her dinner.

I love the way her verbal range has accelerated over a period of a few short months. No longer indecipherable babytalk but full sentences although Ginger and I still occasionally have to translate for babbo and grandmothers.

Peta, 2 years and 4 months

Learning how to spell (or just copying Ginger): “What does boat start with?”

Four years worth

The bunny rabbit pose

Ginger has always enjoyed napping and sleeping and resting. She’s always slept as if she has dozed in the middle of a sentence. There she is, with hands and fingers curled in a transcendental baby pose. She made my heart sing then and still does. She’s four years old today. Four year s worth of Ginger. It makes me catch my breath.

In hospital waiting for her to come out, the OB arrived to check me and her. I think back to how great Ginger was from the very beginning. At some point the OB used pincers and plucked a hair out of head as she was about to embark on her journey down the birth canal. At the time I was just stunned and had no idea as to the rationale of his hair plucking technique. I’m somewhat grizzly about it today. Unlike Ginger I grizzle easily. The hair plucking didn’t seem to agitate the little Ginger baby. She was calm then and now (well, mostly calm).

In the last week she has attempted to impress me with addition and subtraction, shown me some jazz ballet moves (she doesn’t do jazz ballet so it’s pure free form on her part), write out Happy Birthday to friends and cousins, eaten salad and broccoli, fallen asleep on the couch with curled limbs and restful eyelids and demanded Peter Pan in its entirety.

Her commentary to Peter Pan and Wendy is impressive. Must be all that sleeping she does. it gives her time to formulate impressive theories and elaborate questions. She has asked about Wendy’s house and why it’s three storeys. She thinks we ought to add another storey to our house. It would require another stair case and that is a good thing according to Ginger. That would be fun. She pauses to think some more and suggests we have ten stories. Then we could roll down on ramps. Good thinking, I say. She even demonstrates the appropriate rolling technique.

The book also mentions a height of 30 feet. Ginger asked if that was taller than her. I answer that she is about three foot, so yes, it is ten times taller than her. She asks the same about Peta, her babbo and so on. i explain how much taller 30 feet is in comparison to all these examples. I say there aren’t any people 30 feet tall. The cogs in her brain start to whir and spark. She looks at me with conviction and says it isn’t true. Giants are as tall as 30 feet. Of course they are. She got me on a technicality.