treats for friends

Every year around this time we are madly getting organised for Christmas stuff.  I know, I know - crazy hey?  But it seems to happen every year, so here we are.

Part of being at school is being in a class.  And part of being in a class is handing out treats for your friends and writing cards at Christmas.  So my girls have been busily writing meaningful 'to-from' cards - the younger one has been decorating her envelopes with beautiful drawings, and I thought I had the treats thing covered by buying cheap candy canes a month ago.

Apparently not good enough.

I made the mistake of making little holly things last year (and the year before) for the friend treats.  And now they are expected.  I couldn't get away with $2 shop candy canes.  Holly things it is.

Here's how you make them.

Gather supplies - Jaffas, mint leaves, red and green cellophane, locate the only pair of scissors in the house, and sticky tape.

Twist one jaffa in a square of red cellophane and two mint leaves each in their own green cellophane.

Then twist them together to look like a little branch of holly and tape up the sucker.

Try not to eat too many mint leaves.

I made 20.  My oldest daughter made six.

In case you are interested it takes one packet of green cellophane and one of red, half a packet of jaffas, and one packet of mint leaves to do a class of 26 kids.

My oldest daughter is probably right - they are more interesting than candy canes that someone just bought from the shop.

Do you think my four packets of candy canes will last until next year?

tree house

When my daughters were three and one my husband built them a wonderful treehouse.  He designed it himself, and built it in the mango tree in the back yard.  He had to get out his year 12 maths book to work out the angles for the pitch of the roof, as the four posts are not evenly placed.  It is quite high - safety not being my primary concern. I figure they will learn.  It's the same reason I don't have a trampoline with safety pads.  Old school for us!  No-one has fallen out of it yet.  Although I have caught a visiting young boy doing a piddle through the branches from the roof of the tree house.

It has provided hours of fun for the girls and a place to escape when their mother is reminding...nagging..about cleaning their rooms.  The mango tree and the vines have started reclaiming some space over the last couple of years when it has actually rained in Brisbane.  It's a jungle out there.

We even had a family portrait in the treehouse!

minute to win it night

Thanks person in TV world who thought of minute to win it.  It supplied a great night of fun material for our end of year kids club break up with heaps of church and community families attending.  It was crazy, loud, sugar loaded, touching, exciting and fairly injury free - all the things a kids club night should be.  God has done great things through this ministry.

The games we played were:
- the one where you move the cracker down your face moving only your facial muscles (a crowd favourite)
- the one where you wrap someone up in toilet paper like a mummy without breaking the paper
- the one where you keep two balloons in the air for a minute
- the one where you strap a pedometer to your head and see how many times you can shake it
- the one where you have to blow up as many balloons as you can and then pop them
- the one where you see how many sandwiches you can spread in a minute
- the one where you throw ping pong balls into a bucket on someone's head and see how many go in

and, my personal favourite

- the one where you have a minute to clean up the whole hall

We used the minute to win it timer from youtube.  I need to install one at home and see if we can play such fantastic games as:
- minute to put away your washing
- minute to have a shower
- minute to get ready for school
- minute to do your homework
- minute to clean the chook pen....

It was also a bittersweet night as it was my last night at kids club as a leader.  I got a lovely unexpected gift and lots of parents and kids came and said thanks.  One beautiful little girl came and stood in front of me patiently as I was handing out some Christmas presents and organising clean up, and then gave me a quick hug and said thank you.  I have had a great time doing it - and there is a wonderful team taking it forwards.  But I will miss it!  Thank you everyone who has been part of the kids club team with me for the last five years.

Some evidence:

mickey stories; chapter three

I have a small friend called Mickey.

Not his real name.

He is inventive, cheeky and we will all be amazed at what he does when he grows up.  I have taken the role of Mickey-chronicler as his mother is taking the hard road of Mickey-raising.

This year I attended his sister's birthday party with my two girls.  It was a great party, with cake and games and shrieking.  There were seven adults present, and four children - the three girls and Mickey.  The time came for the cake.  It was carried ceremoniously to the loungeroom, upon which the candles were lit.  We all sang happy birthday, hip hoorayed, and congratulated the birthday girl.  We turned to Mickey to ask if he would like a piece of cake.

He was gone.

In the time it takes to sing 'happy birthday' he had taken the matches from the candle lighting, scooted under the house, and was lighting them to see what would happen.  And there were fourteen pairs of adult eyes there.

He is a ninja.

The end.

my daughter...the star

My oldest daughter performed in the school musical tonight.  She had a MAJOR role - well, she had some lines and a song.  She did fabulously, and I had many proud mummy moments.  She played the role of 'Simple Simon' in a musical about nursery rhyme characters and a birthday cake for Old King Cole.  I was amazed at all the kids remembering their lines and entrances for an hour and a half.  And I was amazed at the teacher's dedication to the kids.  And I was amazed at how surprisingly good it was for a primary school musical.  And I was amazed at the kid that decided to do laps of the hall for the last ten minutes of the show - he was an audience member with the wriggles I guess.

All those times spent sitting in the lounge room watching her 'shows' have been worth it.

She has become an attention seeker like her mother.

a proud sister moment

a proud grandma moment

show in translation

On Sunday wide eyed stories was invited to come and perform at the family service at the chinese methodist church.  A translated show.  Into chinese.

We had to send the script a couple of weeks beforehand so they could subtitle our show, and for the action parts we had a live translator.  I had that experience when you are being translated of saying one word and listening to the paragraph of translation.  And the opposite one of when you say a whole sentence and the translator says one or two words.  And the embarassing situation when you have a go at a chinese word and get it completely wrong in front of a crowd of two hundred people.

It was very exciting and the church made us feel very welcome.  But very difficult to not improvise (only slightly!) with a puppet.  Oh the jokes I thought of and didn't say!  Wasted gold!

It was a wonderful experience, and confirmed to me that we are all part of one family in God.  I handed someone my camera and asked her to take a couple of photos.  My camera was returned at the end of the service with 80 photos capturing every moment.  Fantastic.

relaxing......

Last year we put a deck on our house.  It was a long held dream.  I had imagined the deck so many times in that corner of the house that I would hang up the clothes on the hills hoist (where the deck now is) and fantasize about sitting in comfy chairs one metre higher in the air - drinking tea on the deck, having friends over on the deck, reading the paper over a morning scrambled free range egg, having BBQs on the deck, absorbing the sunset over Mt Gravatt, reading my Bible on the deck, and RELAXING.

My husband hung a hammock and a swing chair in the corner of the deck.  I think he was also visualising quiet afternoons swinging in the hammock, beer in hand.

It has turned into gymnastics corner.

Whatever child comes to our house cannot resist swinging and contorting in the hammock and the chair, and doing death defying acts in the swing chair.  Wrapping a friend in the hammock and wildly twisting the ropes has become the best game.

There have only been a couple of accidents so far.....

I guess the relaxing part will come.

In time.

When the sleeping hormones of adolescence hit.

puppet theatre

I thought I would take a couple of quick photos of the puppet theatre I made for the girls a few years ago (with some help from a sewing friend - I am not a sewer - I have the vision - others support me in the sewing part of the vision).  They use it fairly often, as puppetry in the home is modeled by their mother. 

It is based on no design except the one from my head.  I bought a clothes rail horse thing from Kmart, then made the material to fit around it.  I used thickish navy cotton and shiny sparkly red fabric.

Here is it with the curtains open.  You can un-velcro the puppet navy bit and it becomes a stage with red curtains.

Here it is from behind.  There are yellow pockets down the side bits of fabric to store props, extra puppets, snacks, your little sister...

And here are the performers modeling the theatre again.  I also made a big yellow bag for it to go in for storage.  It takes up as much room as...ummmm... a big fold up camping chair.  It lives up the top of a cupboard when not in production.

As far as I know this is the only clothes rail puppet theatre I have seen.

On other exciting news, my wonderful husband is making my very own Logosdor puppet box. Yayy.  Here is a sneak peek....

I hope there is room in the box for the spa and the pony paddock that Dizzy (my puppet) insists on.

mickey stories; chapter two

I have a small friend called Mickey.  Well, let's call him that to protect his privacy.

He has a cheeky smile and is very inventive.

This is a true story as recounted by his mother from when he was a toddler.

Mickey's mum had been getting lots of migraine type headaches, so she was advised by the doctor to lie down quietly on the couch with her eyes closed and a cool washer on her forehead when she felt symptoms coming on.  One afternoon, after Mickey-wrangling for most of the day,she felt a headache coming, so she lay on the couch, leaving Mickey quietly playing with some toys.
A little while later she came to suddenly when she smelt smoke, looked around, and saw no Mickey.
She rushed to the open front window and saw a naked Mickey bottom winking down the street.  Smoke was coming from the oven.
As far as she can tell, Mickey put a tea towel in the oven, turned all the knobs as far as they could go, climbed up onto the kitchen bench, opened the front window, undressed, waited for the postman to come, and, when he rounded the corner, leapt out of the window to chase the postman down the street while the teatowel burned.

I asked here what she looked after first - the child or the fire.

She said she put out the fire, then chased the child.

Her headache did not subside.

The end.

when communication happens

I am going to go on an excited speech therapy rant again.  Stick with me. 

Today at school the teacher and I introduced a PODD (Pragmatic Organised Dynamic Display) book to her class.  This is basically a big book of small symbolic pictures, all laminated and colourful, arranged in category pages eg  an ouside activites page, a cooking page, a feelings page etc. 

All except one of her kids have no words yet, and so we are encouraging vocabulary growth and understanding.  And we decided to use this symbol book to help us.  Basically you point to the pictures as you talk, and to communicate back the kids point to the pictures.
So I started telling the story, using the PODD book, of my sailing adventures and how I go a big bruise on my arm. And one kid pulls the book over and points to 'hurt' 'arm'.  And then I go on to tell them using the book that I had forgotten my lunch today, and what should I do.  Another child, who has not communicated with me all year with words or signs or pictures or even eye contact, pulled the book over and pointed to the pictures (which were on different pages)
'shop'
'pizza'
He thought I should go to the shop and buy a pizza.
The teacher and I melted with excitement.  He had seen my problem, thought of a solution, and communicated it well.
I wondered out loud if there was a healthier option.
He pointed to
'sandwich'
'apple juice'.
SO exciting.
So cool.

Needless to say, I felt compelled to buy a chicken sandwich and an apple juice for lunch and go and eat it with him.

A very good day when communication happens.

raising girls

We have just been to a talk by Peter Janetzski on 'Raising Girls'.  A very interesting night, and here a few things I learned.

- I am an equity feminist, not a gender feminist
- We need to be honest and up front with the girls about 'the talk'
- we should advocate strongly against culture influences of over-sexualising our children, and let them play more (see Collective Shout)
- I should tell my girls how much they are worth and what they mean to me, and how beautiful they are!
- family role modeling is very important

I am sure there is more - but I am tired and need to process.

hmmmmmmmmm
processing..........

dancing concert

Well.  It's done.

Dancing concert 2010.  My fourth one in a row.

All things considered, it went very well.  There were minor costume dramas (somehow my oldest daughter lost half of her costume between the dress rehearsal and the performance - from a sealed bag!!!), parts where the youngest dancing class made everyone laugh out loud, lovely dancing from everyone, and very proud mummy moments as my two girls remembered all their steps and looked amazing and smiled.

5 things I like about our dance school
1. I don't have to sew costumes for the concert - we just hire them each year for $15 and they get reconfigured into different dances
2.  I have not met any pushy dancing mums - every other mum is happy to lend a hand with my dancing mum inadequacies - forgetting pins, lipstick, hairspray, where the children are supposed to be
3. All of the girls in the concert look beautiful, not tarty.  Even the big hip hop teenagers.
4. Our dancing teacher is calm and nothing ever seems to phase her.  I have never heard her shout - even when she had a baby in between the ballet exams and the concert last year.  She understands we have lives other than her dancing school.
5. My girls seem to have learnt to dance!

Some pictures...

sailing

Today I helped the youth group with a sailing day.  I had to sail a laser (read - small boat) out of the canals at Raby Bay into the wilds of Moreton Bay, and then find the right beach where all the teenagers were.

I set off confidently down the canal, tacking past the million dollar boats and houses, until - just within sight of the mouth of the canal - I flipped the boat when the extension bit on the tiller got stuck up the back of my lifejacket.  So I floated for a while, pondering what I should do, then I swam the boat over to the barnacle covered rocks and managed to get going again (with thanks to Mat for being a gentleman!).  All was going well until I tried to come into the beach from way out in the bay.  Then I flipped it again. 
As I lay in the water, hanging onto the centreboard and wishing I had way more upper arm strength to get it upright again, and thinking Jessica Watson was very amazing to go around the world  by herself in a little boat - I thought 'how am I going to get out of here?'  Eventually the tide will wash me in....I'll just look up at the clear Brisbane sky, and pray a bit. 
After what seemed about a year of floating (probably ten minutes) a huge wave came and flipped the boat right back up again.
Thanks God.
So I sailed into the beach and sailed teenagers around all day, then sailed back down the canal in the afternoon.  And cannily avoided cleaning the boats by saying I had to look after my children.

Bruise count = 12 (five bumps on my head from the boom, a very impressive upper arm bruise which I don't remember getting, and legs that look like someone has taken to them with a big stick.)
Sunburn count = back of calves and lower back (didn't even notice my rashie riding up!)
Aching muscles count = all of them  Maybe I am getting too old for this....

Level of self satisfaction after canal manoeuvres = very very high..

end of a season

I have done ten years straight of kids ministry at church.  Five years in playgroup and then five years in kids club.  And tonight was the last kids club for a while (apart from the big Christmas shindig in a couple of weeks.  But tonight was the last night with my small group).

I decided to stop and have a break in 2011.  To explore other things.  To do RE and wideeyedstories stuff.

I think it is a good idea.  My husband thinks it is a good idea.  I thought and prayed about it a lot.

But tonight as I was running around playing with the parachute, singing like a lunatic and chatting with my grade two girls about physics prizes, take home bears and the meaning of life I thought - this is really fun.  I am going to miss this.  I like the wildness of kids club on a Friday afternoon.  The kids feel unshackled.  It is the end of the week.  We can run around and be monkeys.  I like the conversations with kids the are interested in life and not afraid to ask the big questions.  I like sending them off to run around with our wonderful teenage helpers.  I like eating afternoon tea with them and reminding them to eat a piece of fruit.  I like watching their faces as they learn something new in a story.

Here is a story from one of the afternoons  - I think from last year.
I had a group of six year old boys, and we had just finished doing the story of David and Goliath.  I had talked about how hard it must have been for David to be so brave.  I asked the boys if there was anything hard in their lives.
Silence.  Looking at the floor.  Picking of scabs.
I persisted.  Surely there must have been a time when they found something hard.  I was ready to tell them that God could help them.
Then one treasure spoke up.
'Bricks are hard'.
Yes, I said, trying very hard not to lose it.  I had an important point to get across.  I was focused on teaching.
Someone else thought they were onto a good thing here.
"Concrete is hard too.'
Then I lost it. We giggled and giggled about all the hard things we could think of.
Then we went outside and played soccer.

That's why kid's club is awesome.
A leader.  Some kids.  A Friday afternoon.  God's love.
And hard things.

Bye!

mickey stories; chapter one

I have a young friend.  Let's call him
Mickey.
To protect the innocent.

He is an inventive person with a cheeky smile.  He always wants to see how things work.

I feel compelled to document parts of his life as his mother will not believe she lived through it when he is older.  And as she is currently Mickey-wrangling I can take the role of Mickey-chronicler.

Here is a true story.

One day Mickey's mum was hanging out the washing.  A normal, everyday task that needs to be done.  Mickey was about two and a half.  She heard him inside laughing and talking to himself, with some occasional splashing.  'Great' she thought 'he is amusing himself'.  She continued pegging up the undies and socks.
Until she heard screaming from Mickey.
Running inside she found him inside the top loading washing machine as it started the agitation cycle.  To get rid of dirt and blood and stains.
He had climbed into the washing machine and pushed some buttons until water started coming out.  He happily splashed in the running filling water until the machine decided it was ready to agitate the load, upon which Mickey discovered it was more than a paddling pool.
Mickey was hauled quickly out of the machine
shaken
but not deterred.

More Mickey stories to come.

The end.

as a triathlete...

Three weekends ago I went in a triathlon.

I had wanted to do one for about a year, and to my husband's great credit he did not laugh out loud when I said that it was one of my goals.

I was talking with one of my friends at my 20 year school reunion (!!!!) in April and she said we wanted to do a triathlon as well.  So....the word was out. I was semi committed.

Then I googled 'triathlon' and found this one.  We paid up, we chose a team name ('have a crack at it'), and we were fully committed.  To the medium course.  200m swim, 6km bike ride, 2km run.

I did some mild training with swimming and cycling.  Well, I had to get a bike out of the shed and dust off the cobwebs - I don't even own a bike.  I figured with the running part I could just walk.  I am sure I had walked two kilometres around Carindale before.

We arrived at Runaway Bay with the 600 other ladies in the event.  It was like a big fete. For sporty people who liked pink.  Who punched the air and knew what to do with their bikes.

 A lady wrote my number on my arm and leg.  I instantly felt athletic and ready to go.

Although by the time I got to the pool I had lost my timing chip and forgot to put on suncream.  Before I knew it I was in the water DOING A TRIATHLON!

My swimming leg was great - I overtook heaps of people, and only hit one lady in the head accidentally, and I burst out of the water feeling strong and ready to ride.
Then it took me ages to put on my shoes
and I had lost my hat and water bottle and had to borrow my friends.
I really need to work on my transitions.
That's what us triathletes call the bit where you get changed ready to do the next bit.

The riding was fine
except for the bit where the chain came off my bike
Luckily I just flicked it back on and kept riding.
Then came the running.
My worst leg.
I think I ran the 200m out of the stadium
then walked around the carpark a bit
then ran the 200m back into the stadium to the finish line.

But I had done it!
In a personal (and only) best of 49 minutes.
I felt really proud of myself and my friend.
We are goal achievers!
We are girls who are committed!
We are TRIATHLETES!

And now I feel I can start conversations with
'as a triathlete....'

I am going to do it again.  Improve my running leg and my time.

Who's in?