Hello there poppets! / L Plate Mama

Sometimes I amuse myself…. Dun dun duuun dun…. Durn durn durrrr durrr….. The Quinoa Incident…. Sounds akin to the Bourne Identity don’t you think? With much less violence, but maybe just as much mess. Now bear with me, I have couple of things to say about quinoa. The word that may first spring to your mind when someone says quinoa is wanky …. Followed perhaps by other choice words such as faddy superfood and frigging expensive . As you probably know quinoa, pronounced keenwa , is a South American grain that is packed with protein and high in essential amino acids, a good source of fiber, phosphorus, magnesium, iron and calcium and is gluten free. A great food for everyone, especially vegos and vegans. So a big tick all round? Unfortunately not. The good people of Chile, Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador and Colombia have been eating quinoa for 5000 years, and now us newly enlightened souls have cottoned on to its benefits the production has tripled as well as the price, squeezing ou...

A climbing, crawling, coasting and clapping Moo turned one a week back.   He is such a little tornado of baby on the very brink of toddlerhood. His fine fair fair hair collects in a rush of curls at the nape of this neck, along with his pale blue eyes and olive skin this makes for a triple whammy of adorableness  (no I don’t leave him out in the Aussie sun with no protection, just a lick of sunshine turns is all he needs for a little tan - very different from his brothers milky white colouring).  He loves his big bro with such open hearted devotion; taking many a biff without the blink of an eye. The two share gorgeous giggling fits and some very sweet tender moments amongst he argy bargy of testosterone.  He loves his pets; all of which he refers to as “Ba”. He can sign dog, cat and fish, so the excited call of “Ba” is accompanied by fervent hand/arm movements. The dog and cat are both being extremely patient with his very rough displays of affection,...

(I wrote this 5 weeks ago on my last night in the UK, found it in Notes on my phone today... so I'm sharing it :) ) Far far away my baby is sleeping. Well he's almost four but he's still my baby. He's nearly 17000 kilometers away. I miss him, especially in the morning and most acutely at night time, when I'm dog-tired and I want to know my children and Other Half are safe and close. Tomorrow Moo and I fly home. Home to home. One side of the world to the other. So so so far. I don't know when I'll be back to the UK, and it's a retch to leave the hanging baskets of pansies, the skies filled with planes, the sound of the car wash across the street that my Dad and Step Mum pretend is the sea. It's a retch to leave my Dad. His uniform of black jeans and reeboks, his funny half pretend explosions of temper at people who might deserve it. My Dad has moved since I was here last. This house is charming, it is a lovely home and I have been so ...

I can see the golden lights of the coast shining below us as our plane pulls us along and away from Rome and back up to Blighty. Moo is asleep on my lap. He's too long to fit on my lap and his little foot is jutting out on to the arm rest. No one is next to us to complain. There was less room yesterday on the coach from Siena to Rome and his feet rested squarely on the poor chap to my left. He didn't seem to mind, there was little I could do, no other position I could hold him. As it was my back ached from holding his sleeping form for most of the 3hour journey. I feel sad. We said goodbye to Chops and the Other Half at the airport. They are off to Bangkok for a four day adventure before heading home to Melbourne. It'll be just over two weeks until I see them again. A long time for me. Moo and I are going to back to London-town for more time with family. I wish it wasn't such a massive long bloody way from Aus to the UK, it is almost cruel.  The love...

(written last week)  It's 2pm in the afternoon, Oscar has spent all morning splashing, chasing, smashing, jumping, romping and floating in the pool on the top of a Tuscan hill. This kid doesn't know how good he's got it, but he has loved every millisecond of it. Alfie loves the water, but hot sun he's not such a fan of, and him and I have been hanging out in the cool shade of the villa for a while now. Oscar forced from the poolside is now near comatose watching tom and jerry cartoons in German. Today is our first full day here in Tuscany. Yesterday we took two planes, two taxis, a train and another car trip to get here, with all those modes of transport you'd think we'd have come farther a field than Berlin. Moo is now 8 months and HUGE. He's long, strong and heavy, weighing in at about 10kilos. He's not crawling, which is a godsend. He can turn 360, shuffle backward in an unintentional manner but we don't have to worry about him and all t...

I've joined a group on Facebook . Up until four months ago the only group I was a part of on the indispensable social networking site was my Mothers group. Now I am joined electronically to like minded people all over Aus , mostly non-animal-eating people but also one group encouraging gentle parenting. Chopchopchop-ararma was in childcare 2 days a week. The Aus Government pays half the fees when you work or are on maternity leave. I needed/very much wanted some time just with Moo, and one child time to do 'stuff', exciting stuff like go to the Doctors or pick up parcels from the post office. Then Chops started kicking up a fuss about going to care on the day his best little mate wasn't there. After a few weeks, I thought hey? One day a week for watching TV when moo naps is enough. Big mistake. Next Chops started not wanting to go on the day his lovely little friend was there. And it built in it's force and intensity until it got to the point where I ...

My life has been shaped by television. Anyone who knows me knows how much of a TV addict I am. I wish I could pretend it was sophisticated high drama or intellectual debates. Alas each night I turn on, tune in and clock out a couple of hours and it’s the crime dramas that keep me coming back for more, preferably from the home country and even better if there is some incredibly grumpy soul stamping around in the damp countryside. You’ll be glad to know it is not the crime drama that has shaped my life (huge sigh of relief). It was antipodean staple of British life at the tender age of six that changed my life forever. Harold in the pivotal episode of Neighbours was explaining to someone, no recollection of whom, that he was a vegetarian. This was 26 years ago and I was a little girl growing up in South Wales; it had not crossed my mind you could choose not to eat meat. What a revelation! If you’d have been there standing next to my little head I swear you would have heard the synap...

I’ve been using these lovely little app called TinyBeans   - photo journal , a photo a day (or more) of my beautiful boys shared via an automatic email to family or whoever you’d like to share with – people who absolutely adore you and don’t mind being bombarded with daily pics of your snotty/cherubic offspring. Each photo is a ‘moment’. We had a lovely moment – a sparkling jewel of a moment; all the more lovely for tricky and testing behavior of Son Number 1 in the last few days. We’d gone to pick a parcel from the local post office, and me being me we took the opportunity for a sneaky hot caffeinated beverage and slice of something terribly bad for you. The littlest one fell asleep just as we were ready to leave, so across the two major roads and the train tracks we went, down to the windswept beach, so Mr Moo could continue his slumber. Chops suggested, in that wonderful assertive way that three year olds do, that we sit down on the concrete in front of ...

My first born looks a little pink after a trip to the beach, which ended in tears (first born son) and screams (second born son). I make an offer: aftersun will be applied, if he does not cry he can have a bit of the lolly house, if he cries he won't. The after sun will be applied either way. Protest. Apply. Response: It does not smell nice, it smells awful! I do not like it, get it off. It is disgusting. Made in indignant tones, as he rubs himself on our lounge room rug much like Bella dog does after a bath.