That's not how you make porridge.....

but if you're in the mood to treat yourself (or if your face is showing signs of sliding off your head) this oatmeal scrub is hard to beat...I haven't made it for years, I used to make up batches all the time when the boys were little....it's so good for your skin, I used it all over with them...they looked like little mud monsters and smelled divine!! Now bear in mind, I'm not a measuring cup girl...more a chuck-it-in-and-mix-it-up-till-it-looks-good kinda person, so you can vary this basic formula till you get a combination that works for you...

In a large bowl mix the following....
2 cups (mugs, large handfuls, whatever...) of plain rolled oats, (NOT the sachets that are already flavoured...unless you want stray dogs licking your ankles at the bus stop). Depending on how abrasive you want the texture, give the oats a medium to severe pounding with a pestle or wrap them in a tea towel and belt them with a rolling pin a few times. SO theraputic. I feel better already. Where was I?? Oh yeah, ingredients. So, after you've pounded your oats, add about half a carton of natural yoghurt (again, unflavoured....stray dogs, yeh...)which is probably about
150 grams or maybe not...the idea is to mix it into the oats until you get a thickish paste, so by the spoonful is probably the way to go here. So, are we pasted yet?? Cool..now comes the smell good bit. It actually doesn't smell too bad right now, kinda like Weetbix-au-natural, but that's not always to everyones taste so we'll move on....Depending on how sensitive your skin is, and whether you're sensitive to anything (please check this, 'cos I really don't want people leaving me comments about how they blew up to three times their normal size and had to be surgically deflated...it really defeats the purpose of making this stuff in the first place, OK) With my kids I used two drops of lavender concentrate and a teaspoon of rosewater, which is a mild astringent, and they never blew up or anything although Sebi did lick quite a bit of it off his face and hands once and produced some world beating nappies afterwards...which just goes to show that it's edible and
fibre enriched. When I make it for myself, I add a spoonful of honey, just for the smell and the ick factor, and the fact that your skin really does feel like a babies ass when you rinse it off. Lovely. Keep in mind that this mixture DOES NOT KEEP...so if you put the leftovers in the fridge and have a lost weekend, by Monday it'll be taking over the kitchen in search of nourishment. Are we relaxed yet???
Fabulous....my work here is done.

On my must see list....

LOVED the book, can't wait to see this....I'm even prepared to forgive Eric Bana for his HIDEOUS portrayal of Henry VIII in The Other Boleyn Girl, because this looks absolutely fabulous....of course, I'll be seeing it sans family, since the tribe of three have minimum standards of carnage that must be met before viewing anything. Oh well....more jaffas for me....

Club Dead /Living in the 80's

Michael Jackson is dead. There goes another slice of my teenage years. I wasn't a particular fan, but anyone with a pulse in the 1980's tried to moonwalk at least once....admit it. The man had problems, but his music made a lot of people happy.
News like this always gives me a minor "mortality check"....I felt the same when Michael Hutchence died, although I was a lot younger and a lot more upset.
I guess you always hope that the things you grew up with will remain constant....I hate the idea that I'm now explaining to my kids who the icons of my youth were...that's a process guaranteed to age you considerably in only 30 minutes. I look at #1 son and his idols and his tastes in music and movies, and I'm suddenly nostalgic for my fluoro socks and my "Frankie Says" t shirt. So, instead of a eulogy to Michael Jackson, I'll leave you with a few 80-isms that still make me smile....

Valley Girl - remember Nicholas Cage's funky punk 'do ??
Pretty in Pink - didn't we all want to dress like Molly Ringwald??
Radio 10 Fantastic Plastic cards...we'll take caller ten.....
Max Headroom and Fido Dido....'nuff said.
Tears for Fears and the Thompson Twins....saw them live at
FESTIVAL HALL !! God, how cool did we think that place was !!
Adam Ant and his new romantic wardrobe.
U2 before Bono went off to save the world.
Sons and Daughters.....I had the biggest thing for Andy!!
Prisoner....we were TOTALLY obsessed!!

Sigh....think I'll play my Prince Charming LP.

Vampire Chronicles, Hartwell Style.......

Second son is looking a little on the pale side today....

courtesy of yet another late night bloodbath....I think the cold weather is aggravating things, but it's still a little freaky when your child walks up the hallway looking like something from Night of the Living Dead, courtesy of a nightime nosebleed. He seems fine, but I figured a day inside where it's warmer wouldn't do him any harm as it's seriously parky outside ATM. He's raring to go to Tae Kwon Do tonite, which I'm not really in favour of, only because it took me hours to get the bloodstains out of his dobok last time he bled all over it. But that's just my anti-laundry agenda rearing it's ugly little head....

Bedroom Blogger....

In an attempt to avoid football fallout I have assumed my alter identity of Bedroom Blogger and I'm posting via laptop from bed. Not that I have anything against football per se, it just freaks me out when finer 50% adopts his alternative identity "Stupid Man". Stupid Man and I have a long and unhealthy relationship, stretching through years of sporting events, driving disasters and other 'bonding' moments. Although he bears a striking physical resemblance to fave husband, on the inside he's 80% caveman and 20% mad dog. Not the most endearing qualities in a life partner, but since his appearances are not all that frequent, I've learnt to put up with his umpire hating/referdex phobic tendancies in favour of peace and harmony and the speedy return of finer 50%. Which will be later this evening if Queensland wins, and several LONG LONG days away if they don't.

And this one time, at band camp......

Here is number one son....all ready to go to band camp.

He's SO excited. Yeah.

His departure gives me three full days to continue banana warfare with second son.
Now who's excited??

Bananaman and the Kitchen Exorcism

I have just finished scraping secondhand banana from every surface in my kitchen in the name of better parenting. Sebi's clinic results came back and apart from being skinny enough to see through, he's also lacking folic acid, iron and a few other things. This really doesn't surprise me, since he has long held the title of World's Pickiest Eater, but it does add several hours to my day as I chase him round the house with plates full of child enriching substances while he leaps the couch in a single bound and threatens to call Child Protective Services. Whatever he's low on, it sure isn't energy. He has a pathological fear of anything unfamiliar, although how he developed bananaphobia in this house boggles the mind....Finer 50% and number one son eat so many I'm surprised they haven't grown prehensile tails. But the mere sight of one is enough to send him into full panic mode, which is a major bummer as bananas are top of the list of "Things Your Son Must Eat Before His Next Visit". I managed to corner him in the kitchen this morning and actually got him to swallow a mouthful, along with several glasses of water "so I don't taste the badness", and things were looking up until number one son happened to mention that bananas are full of potassium. Seconds later my kitchen is inches deep in recycled monkey chow as second son has a major gag attack. His reasoning...."you know I hate potassium, mum!!" I bet Nigella's kids don't do this.

Goin' Animal.....

Here is number 2 son at the end of term concert last night....the only drummer amongst a sea of little pianists.....

He was seriously fabulous and got the biggest round of applause, probably because people couldn't tell how loud they were clapping, lol. He loves his drum kit, because it's the only thing he's allowed to hit without getting grounded.
Just ask his brother....

Fantasy Vs Reality/ A study in Character Assassination

Hi, my name is Kjirsten and this is my bubble. You're welcome to join me, provided you leave reality outside. Don't get me wrong...I don't mind reality. Most of my time is spent up to my neck in varying shades and smells of it. As a general rule, I'm a fairly grounded person...I'm the practical one, the list maker, the appointment setter. I'm not romantic either....it's just not in my make up. I love my husband and adore my kids but I'm not into grand gestures and passionate poetry. AT ALL. Which makes the little part of my life inside the bubble that much more enjoyable. Because I do enjoy other people's romances. In books and on the screen. I love getting so involved in someone else's life story that I can temporarily put my own stuff to one side, knowing it'll still be there when I put the book down or turn the TV off. What I don't like is when reality gets in the way of my fantasy. Case in point. I'm a die hard (or should that be twi hard) Stephenie Meyers fan. The Twilight Series came into my life at a point where I was desperately in need of some total escapeism. I probably read and re-read the series for three months without looking at another book. It gave me what I needed....a fairy tale with plenty of action and a happy ending. I loved the characters, their stories, their reactions. On the strength of the books I went and saw the movie, and again, it was great....pure fantasy, where you didn't need to think too hard, or wonder why they didn't do this instead of that.
With the second movie well on it's way, I'm finding it very hard to keep my bubble intact. Do I really need to know if Robert Pattison smells manky?? I'm thinking no. Do I want to know anything about him at all, regardless of how he smells. Again, no. If he was to show up on my doorstep, it would totally burst my bubble...I already have three manky men at my place...there's no room for a fourth. Mind you, I would probably feel the same if Edward the Vampire showed up...what am I going to do with a sparkly bloodsucker in Queensland...he'd have to stay in the linen closet pretty much permanantly...what sort of life is that?? I don't want to know about the actors In Real Life. I don't even want to think about the characters outside the books. I just want my little slice of fantasy, inside my bubble, untouched by reality in any form. Please close the door on your way out.

Sports Day

Today was Sports Day for the senior school at Wishart. Sebi was not keen, being cursed with the combined co-ordination problems of both parents, but I managed to bribe him into attending with the promise of Maccas for lunch and some more Bakkugan to add to his collection. And it was so worth it.....

First we had target practice...always a big favourite. Sebi excells at this...he's a born target.

Then we had a few rounds of uncoordinated flailing about....

Followed by grand prix egg laying....

And onto the serious stuff....Jumping Over Things....

we did a lot of this....

God bless the uncoordinated for they shall trip over the earth.

Words to live by...

"come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest"

Well, I'm trying....but it's hard to give up control to someone else, even God.
I know that if I don't stop trying to do everything I'm going to melt down. But even as I say it, I'm still tying myself in knots about things that are going to happen anyway. I'm such a control freak....and it's not doing me or the ones I love any good. It's basically a territorial thing....this is my responsibility and I will not hand it on even though I'm going under. I've missed my calling peeps...I should've captained the Titanic, lol.
Today has shown me that no matter how prepared/responsible/in control I like to think I am, things are gonna happen that just plain suck. That doesn't mean it's my fault, that I wasn't fast enough/smart enough/there enough. It 's just the way it is. There's no screwing with the master plan...all you'll do is give yourself a headache it'll take a month to get over. So I'm gonna step back (a little) and breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Repeat as required.

15 minute challenge update....

After a couple of weeks of regular yoga, I finally got my mind decluttered enough to start work on my house. As of today I am proud to report that I have been through every wardrobe in the building and have discarded enough clothes to open a branch Vinnies. I also went through the Bear Pit (aka teenage bedroom) and removed a truckload of assorted crap as well as finding the chargers for the ipod and the DS. Sebi's toy shelves and desk have been sorted, and I threatened DH with the ultimate penalty...any disks of any description that weren't in the right cupboard were going in the bin. (!!!!!) My kitchen is still not my fave room in the house, but that's more because the whole thing needs replacing....at least I can find the groceries.
The bathroom is still a big bone of contention....when you live with the tribe of three you kinda figure that it's gonna have that "locker room" feel to it, no matter what you do. The best I can manage ATM is a random laundry sweep every day plus the usual sink/shower/floors. I have decided that when I win the lotto, we're going to have a "girl house" and a "boy house" with a communal room so we can hang out. BLISS!!

Scooby Snax

I just like the way they look. And taste.

Black Hole in Aisle 8

This afternoon I spent 15 minutes reliving my childhood, with the added bonus of looking like a complete Norbert while I did it. Remember going shopping with your mum/dad/responsible adult and turning round from looking at something more interesting than canned tuna only to find that said responsible adult has disappeared?? You look around at all the belt buckles and shoes (I'm talking short 5 year old here) hoping to recognise your mother's incredibly manky brown roman sandals (we're in 1974 at this point) but there's nothing familiar in sight. At this point your choices are
A) cry softly
B) cry loudly
C) look for the freddo frog display and party down until you're taken into custody by a pair of cork wedge heels (1974 remember) and the announcement goes out.....

"Attention customers, we have a little girl at the checkouts. She may possibly be wearing a white skivvy (ewww) but it's hard to tell due to stains incurred while committing grand theft freddo in aisle two. If her mother is in the store, could she please come to register nine with a wet washer and enough money to cover costs or we will be forced to press charges. And thank you for shopping at Woolworths"

Ahhh....memories. It has to be said that reliving the same moment when you're 40 and your mother has once again disappeared into another dimension while you inspect the Tim Tams leaves a lot to be desired. There's nothing quite like the humiliation of standing at the customer service counter trying to convince a well meaning checkout operator young enough to have given you a caesarian scar that you're not lost, you're just waiting for the black hole in aisle 8 to cough up your parent from the deli at the end of the universe. And I was going to pay for the freddos. Honest.

Jim Pie and the cow paddock.

Well, we are back from our monster trek to Gympie (or Jim Pie if you're one of the tribe of three)...it was a great weekend, lots of food, lots of booze and lots and lots of Hartwells of all shapes and sizes. The boys ran wild for the duration, stalking the cows and damming the creek amongst other things, while finer 50% and I had a little R'n'R by the campfire with a bunch of neices and nephews who used to be small. I am ashamed to admit I got very little in the photo line, because it would have meant putting my drink down, and I have my priorities in the right order thank you very much. But I can assure everyone that we had a great time and the mild-to-moderate Sunday morning hangover just made the night before look better by comparison. (She says, while eating a panadol sanger). Ahhh, good times...

Family

is big on the cards this weekend for finer 50%....the Hartwells are having a family reunion this weekend at Gympie (head north till you hit a big paddock) so we are going up this morning and heading back tomorrow afternoon. I am in my usual state of utter disorganisation although I did manage to find myself the funkiest pair of uggs this side of everywhere (pix later). The boys are packed....DS's fully charged and headphones at the ready. DH is stuffing about with the camper trailer, so departure time is anywhere between now and sunset. See you on the other side.

Goodies....

I'm so excited!!! My polarity locket arrived this morning, and I absolutely LOVE it!!
It features my favourite of Diane Duda's paintings, and it's just the cutest thing you've ever seen.....

Just looking at it makes me smile. Sebi saw it and straight away said "the littlest one is me 'cos of the freckles" lol. He also wanted to know who the big one was, (because Kit's a brunette). I explained that this was the way I saw him and Kit in my dreams, when they were still angels waiting to be born. His response...."and I look just like that only better, 'cos I'm real" Out of the mouths of babes.

Still going strong

Today marks 18 years of legally wedded for myself and finer 50%. It sounds like a long time and sometimes it feels like I can't remember what I did before himself came along. But it's still good. We're partners in the fullest sense of the word. We've kinda got to that not-quite-mind-reading stage where a couple of words is all it takes to get the message across. Plus he still makes me laugh like no one else has ever done or ever will....it's a wavelength thing. He's been my rock and my right arm through feast and famine, and when you consider what that has involved since we said "I do" in 1991, that in itself is no mean feat. He has loved me, given me two beautiful sons, embraced my friends as his, stood by my side and supported me without question. And that's priceless. Love you Bru. xox

Not that I'm counting

the days or anything.....found this on Alaine's blog and couldn't resist.