Steaming!

Out of my ears, that is.

We got back tonight from our trip and I grabbed my coffee and ice water and blissfully sat down on my desk. My relaxed finger pressed the power button of my computer and I had a sip of my drink and awaited the awakening of the beast.

Awaited…

The black screen slapped me with an error. Cannot start whatever…missing file…crap!…black screen…error. I pressed Enter in hope that its a fluke or just a random warning…nothing. Error and black screen.

For the next two hours I was running between Mr.Blab’s computer and reading on solutions and mine. Digging through boxes of software and CDs, drivers and pulling my hair. My coffee got cold, the ice water was warm and the dreaded machine started. I got in.

The monitor is gobbely gook looking, half the things dont work, but I am in. The verdict? My hard disk has decided to go half dead on me. So I need a new one. Its all fine and dandy, but that means I need to install all my things back on – software, drivers, settings, emails…you get the sad, cold coffee picture.

So now instead of a post about the trip you get my steaming ears. But dont you dare complain, because I will eat you with your clothes. Dont mess with me, see the ears!

So long, my relaxing night back home. So long my Friday.

See the crocodile tears?

Why ME?! Uaaa…waaaa…..waaaaah

(disappears in a cloud of self pity)

The kids have these stainless steel bottles that they use for water in the house. Since they are without any decorations we end up drawing stuff on them from time to time with a permanent marker. Which turns out to not be that permanent, because it rubs off in time. But that is not a bad thing really, as it means diversity of art and opportunity to try new things every time.

The kids started with simple names or letters. Then it grew to drawings. Then we the grown ups started being asked to contribute creative input. It was mostly Mr.Blab’s market. He is the water guy around here. He monitors the water supply in the house and makes sure we have a steady flow of cold water and ice. That entails careful planning and prompt refilling of any empty glass bottles and putting them straight into the shelf of the fridge door – in order – from left to right, right being the coldest. He also keeps a hawk eye on the ice bucket in the freezer. He is able to HEAR the level of the bucket by the sounds we make while getting ice from it! Impressive. Lets just say his job is hard during the summer months, we drink a LOT of water and we are never out. Props.

So, he also usually fills the girls bottles and had taken over the orders for art on the before mentioned water vessels.

But then one day I was asked to do something on the newly cleanly rubbed off metal canvas.  And then again.

This day Little B had her bottle adorned with daddy’s creations. Miss Fab asked me a little bit later.

Mr.Blab saw his business slip right in front of his eyes like the reel of an old movie. There was a bit of moaning, I am sure.

But wait, that is not the end of the story. Even though we could clearly see where the girls get that specific gene from, Little B looked at daddy and said:

- I love yours, daddy! You can do mine any time.

That kind heart they get from him.

We just finished working on the kids presents. Yawn.

I decided in a moment of mad exhilaration to make the little ones a tipi (teepee). And then found some beautiful organza on sale and later on planned some puffy skirts as well.

So yeah.

If you are asking why I left it till the last moment…what is it to you? Are my half asleep eyes an issue? Man’s magazines use that look to suggest attractiveness – bed eyes, you see. Sexey.

Thats it, I did it for the eyes. Too bad Mr.Blab has the same ones and I doubt he is paying much attention to mine. So its all lost in the end. Thank goodness the gifts are looking great, cause the sex aint happening.

Night, night.

Ta-ta…zzzzz

Yes. Yesterday I went to upload the latest batch of photos and it, in not so many words, informed me that my obsession with taking pictures has caused it great pain and it refuses to accept any more. Period.

In less than 2 years I have managed to fill its mega gigabyte belly full of the memories of my life. My portable hard drive is buckling too, so I need reinforcements before something explodes on me. And no, I am not exaggerating at all.

I remembered this picture I took a few days ago and thought I will use it instead.

The last three weeks or so have been quite an emotional roller coaster for me. I know horrible things happen around the world. I know suffering and pain is part of the lives of many around the world. I know that. But when you have connection to it in any way or form it suddenly becomes real, tangible and hard to process. Distance is what makes most of inequality and unfairness possible. If each of us had to actively ignore and walk past a starving, swollen bellied infant to buy the next useless, but highly desirable object, we wont be able to do it. Yes, should I give these 20 dollars to the mom of the child to feed it, or should I purchase this thing that will end up in the bottom of a drawer full of crap I have been trying to sort through for months? And yet, that is what we do daily. We live in our lovely worlds, buying all this stuff that we dont really need, the syndrome of I Have Nothing To Wear with a wardrobe full of clothes, while people are starving and dying. The only thing that makes it possible is distance.

So I have had this distance cut on me and ended up in the middle of a heap of quite unbelievable practices and beliefs that have left me horrified and…sad. Maybe even a little bit lost. Mr.Blab and I have done our best to make a life for our family that is worth living. Life that makes us happy and content. At the same time there is so much suffering, injustices and unimaginable pain out there in the big blue world. One can easily go and spend their life trying to do something about it or one can just ignore it and pretend its not happening. And then there is the middle ground, or some kind of balance between the two extremes.

Its just one of the decisions we have to make daily. And there are many, many more that shape our experiences and eventually our life.

That brings me to the theme of a proposed guest bloggers submissions:

Dont be fooled by my serious intro, its just what brought me to this line of thinking. I am not looking for some grand idea or anything in particular really. This is not about the meaning of life. That always seems so scary and impossible to answer. I am interested in your own unique view on how you see this question, based on your experiences so far and on your own perspective. Maybe you never thought about it? Maybe you dont want to? Maybe you have a whole book written on the subject? All of those are welcomed.

So if you want to share, drop me a message with your name and link if you have one.  I will make a post of all the takes on the question later.

Cheers!

The girls had their first experience with a political protest today. Caramel Popcorn is a seasoned fighter for women’s rights, so he didnt bat an eyelash, just slept on my back in the heat of the day.

The issue is becoming ridiculous. We have made our voices well heard through letters and record submissions to the Senate inquiry. We flew from all around the country to Canberra to stay in the rain and let our Government know how we feel about the changes they are making to the health regulations. We are not asking for special treatment. We are not asking for new hospitals. We dont want anything more than what is given to women who chose to go and give birth in a medical setting. And yet, we are shunned.

Part of my letter to my local representative:

…Now, few months later, the Health Minister is putting into law a requirement for “collaborative arrangement” between independent midwives and doctors. A requirement that is not even possible, since the Medical Association officially refuse to support home births and dont accept it as a viable choice. The midwives will have to work with people who dont see their value in order to be registered (get indemnity insurance), while the Ob/Gyn practitioners will have no reason to “collaborate”. The power will shift from the woman to the doctor and suddenly her wishes will be secondary to the will of the doctor with whom she is forced to ‘collaborate’.

The reason women choose independent midwives and pay thousands of dollars for their services is often because the system has traumatised them or refuses to respect their right to bodily integrity. Its their last option to ensure they will be respected during their birth and free of undue pressure to accept unwanted interventions. With these changes, this option will be taken away and the medicalized system of childbirth will have full monopoly over the services offered to birthing women. The independent option will be demolished. At what cost, obviously nobody cares.

I loved this scene, not sure why, women..together:

Greens Senator Rachel Siewert:

Why is it so hard to accept that its:

And again, women’s rights are met with a silence and shut doors.

How could this be an issue in a country like ours?

.

A bit late, but we have started on the potty journey.
Wish us luck.

Mr.Blab: You havent blogged in awhile.

Me:…(confused)…it has been TWO days.

Mr.Blab: Exactly!

Ok, am I the only one that finds it worrying that after more than 11 years together he is still so eager for my  blabs? Should I take him to be seen by someone?

I am still here, blabbing away.

Most of you are there, reading and chatting with me. Some new faces, not many, lets face it.

A bit over 800 comments, which seems a lot, but not if you visit a popular blog with 100 comments on each farting post and they fart more than once a day. No, no jealousy, just some envy mixed with owe and a good measure of comfort in my own quiet comfy place with 200 posts.

Thank you. Thanks for being part of it all and sticking around. I would like to say it wouldnt matter if anyone was reading, but that would be a full fat farting lie with an eye twitch on top. It matters. I am no lonely freak, I like the company and its appreciated.

Hip, hip, hooray!

P.S. And no kidding, my trip blogs were bloody awesome! I kid you not. Every time I just take a peak at one of them I end up wasting hours just reading through all of them. Can you send Mr.Blab some stalk mail so he sells his body for another trip? Yeah, that will be good.

In 1 Year:

• • He has transformed from Dotty Dotty to DoddMan
  • Grown 3 times his original size
  • Learned to eat, sit, crawl, grab, pick up…
  • Popped 7 teeth without a second of fuss or complaint
  • Not slept even a night in a cot
  • Never tried formula
  • Has never been left to cry or refused a hug or comfort
  • Has used one packet of disposable nappies, most while on our trip
  • He has gone through two sniffle noses and two colds, one with fever
  • Has not had any medication, be it homeopathic, gripe water or “just a paracetamol”
  • Never slept through, but who cares
  • Never used soap or shampoo
  • Still hasnt taken solids to heart and loves to just explore them and eat small quantities..when in the right mood
  • Yes, still breastfeeds around the clock
  • Learned to kiss months ago and does it constantly
  • Flown across the country
  • Attended political rally
  • Eaten chili, garlic, dirt, sand and just about anything really
  • Still thinks I am the world and all that matters
  • We have never pressured him to be “independent” or had any power struggles
  • It has been pleasure to get to know him and
  • .. He has managed to make us fall in love with him without even trying
  • Oh, and I have taken 1,982,233 pictures of him, approximately