Itchy ball sacks

The boys are back.

I haven't had them with me for a whole month which in parenting terms is a lifetime. Mum + I collected them from their dads yesterday. Gus was asleep when they burst into the car - he just about wet his pants when he woke up to see his big brothers 'in his face'... sheer joy. There is a whole lot of noise associated with three boys.... I forgot.

Not only do they seem bigger after such an absence they actually ARE bigger. Shoes have been outgrown, clothes are tighter + shorter, toe nails are like talons, bits are sprouting hair (Maude help us, puberty is here)... The grandparents did a good job at undoing all my hard work with the big son - the lean, mean, lighter boy came back more than a little squishy around the middle after all the festive indulgence. He is brimming with pubescent confidence/arrogance + is sometimes a little hard to bear. He often oversteps the mark with his commentary and likes to think of himself as sitting at the adults table... he loses sight of himself as a child and thinks he can participate with the grown-ups. That's hard... for all of us. Harder still when you find his input amusing + you indirectly encourage him to overstep those boundaries.

We played ping-pong tonight. Hysterical. This is definitely something that all of us will get a huge amount of enjoyment/engagement from. Thanks Salvos for offering up our table! Even Felix, who so often gives up when he feels inadequate, felt a degree of proficiency/aptitude within a short period of time + stayed, played + cacked himself. Al kept his equipment (the 'golden paddle') locked in the shed until it was his turn, the rest of us had to make do with homebrand equipment. Suffice to say we are all as competitive as each other and this was the perfect opportunity to let rip. There will be a trip to RebelSport in our near future where uber paddles will be bought

So lovely to actually really laugh with each other + just play. There will be a tournament. I am 'Methane Lightening' on account of my flatulence at the table (as the mother of boys I understand the benefits of loud farting for effect). Felix is 'Killer King' from the QUEEN lyric. Al is 'Slowy'. Jasper is 'Itchy Balls' as a nod to his constant scratching of his nether regions. There IS hair sprouting + there IS a lot of itching, scratching + contemplating.

Waiting, watching

My mum arrived yesterday. Of course I was late to collect her - I spent the morning cleaning like a woman possessed, scrubbing away a month of domestic apathy in her honor. I promised Gus some up close plain spotting, so after throwing her bags into the car we reentered the departures area for some aero-gazing. Yes, the boy is emerging in earnest. I wonder how many goobery, sweaty, germy little faces have been squished up against that glass.

Mum has flown in from WA to join us for Jaspers first day of high school next week. We were together when when I waved him off for his first day of primary school so it seems fitting she is here for the start of this new chapter.

Gus has her to himself until Friday when the big brothers return from their dads house. It will be a month since he clapped eyes on them and I know their reunion will be divine. He loves those boys.

Meanwhile a boy + his Gran are getting reacquainted.

I have three sons. I never imagined myself as the mother of 3 boys.. really how could you? There is much to say on the subject but I didn't envisage myself with only boys. Really. After having the big boys I did come to grips with how quickly the passage from baby to boy transpires and promised myself that this time I would pay more attention... slow down... be engaged.

 Shit, I woke up and my BABY is a boy child. I may cry.

an anniversary

It is nearly exactly a year since we swapped inner-Sydney madness for the somewhere else. A  year since I packed up a home of 8 years (albeit one owned by someone else) and left that place. The place that had seen me through some incredibly turbulent times, some beautifully fun times, where my big boys did some major growing, where we all had true friends, magnificent neighbours, a crazy newsagent, excellent coffee, good food and comfortable familiarity.

The Illa-who-a? The Illa-what-a? Where... Tirrol?... No Thirroul - rhymes with Ja Rule (thanks Mrs King).

Sod it, it's near Wollongong.

^^ from this

^^ to this

in the beginning

there was a small human making merry mess + a new blog