Lessons.

Elijah is 8 months old now (yay!). 8 months of joy, and feeling like I am the luckiest mum in the world. Unfortunately it is also 8 months of "he's how old? Gosh, he's huge!". Hey, complete strangers of New Zealand: I KNOW.

I used to justify it to people when they said that: "He was born big - he's actually on track growth wise, and he's in proportion if you take his height into account", but why should I have to? Lately I've just been giving a half-smile and changing the subject, but really I should stand up for my child! Let me know if you have any pithy comebacks I could use.

Here are a couple of recent situations where I could have used something snappy and cutting:

On Friday I popped into the jewellery shop to look at watches (there's a special occasion coming up). The lady behind the counter spots Tim with Elijah and says "How old is he?". "Eight months" I say. "How old?!" she exclaims. "Eight months" I repeat. "Oh gosh, he's big for eight months... are you sure?". Actually lady, you know what? I'm probably wrong.

On Saturday we went shopping again, this time at the appliance store. Just as we were leaving, Tim's name was called. It was his workmate (we'll call him Bryce... cos that's his name). Oh here we go, I thought. Bryce has consistently made reference to Elijah's size - both when I take him into Tim's work, and to Tim at other times. You won't believe the first thing he says... "Hey, is that The World's Biggest Baby?!". At this point, I should have said "Hey, are you the world's biggest dick head?" or something similar, but I showed amazing restraint instead! Then to his girlfriend he goes "He's the size of a two year old!". And I said: nothing. I was flabbergasted (and I am not often flabbergasted). Then we left and I bit my tongue to stop from crying.

My son does not look like this:

And even if he did, I would - most likely - still love him to pieces. I don't know many two year olds Elijah's size either. AND, his size 1 pyjamas are too big for him, SO THERE.

But I'm not justifying myself...

How to be a blog stalker:

Step 1: Sign up to Blogger and pretend as though you are going to make a new entry to your blog each week. Make your blog look all nice and fancy so that people will want to look at it.


Step 2: Find a couple of blogs you might want to follow - a couple I've chosen are Enjoying the Small Things and Our Little Miracle, but you can find your own. Then 'Follow' them. 


Step 3: Check your Dashboard every single day. At least three times. Your Dashboard lets you know when the blogs you are following have a new entry.


Step 4: If you have a spare few hours, and have finished reading the blogs you follow, click 'Next Blog' at the top. This will take you to a random blog, which you can read, click 'Next Blog' again and find out minute details about someone you've never met, their five children, and the craft they enjoy.


You are now a blog stalker. Welcome.


PS. Just in case you were starting to think I was a little creepy, I also follow blogs about craft, like this one, so I'm not so odd after all.


PPS. This is probably my last blog. Turns out I hate blogging, I just like reading.

I love:

1. Having a clean house - a clean house equals a lighter heart. (please note the freshly made cake on the kitchen bench)

2. Getting into a bit of craft.. occasionally. I've been making a cot bumper for about a month now.

3. My boys. They are SO handsome, and so neat!






What do you love at the moment?

Nationals

Today is the first day of National Champs for Tim.

He's the one wearing the hat in fourth seat.
(Photo courtesy of Stephanie Palethorpe.)


I'm excited about this for two reasons: 
The first is that I think he's really good, and have high hopes that they'll make it to finals and win a medal (because how cool would that be?!).
The second, and more important - for me anyway - is that FINALLY, he will no longer have to get up at 5:30am every morning. Admittedly, the last couple of weeks he hasn't had many morning trainings, so we've been lucky enough to have him home. He and Elijah have loved hanging out for a while before Tim has to go to work. He will no longer have to go straight to training after work, meaning he will get home before 8:30pm, and he'll be able to give Elijah his dinner and a bath! For a while there, with morning and night trainings, Tim was only getting to see Eli during his lunch break, for about half an hour... (wears a bit thin after a while!).


I'm so proud of Tim for joining a rowing team - he's really enjoyed learning something new, getting fit, making new friends etc. But we'll be very glad to have him back.


Until next season...

Changes

Notice anything different?


I'm a bit restless in the sense that I don't like things to look the same for too long. I am constantly changing my house around, cutting my own hair (!!), and now this blog. I've changed the look, and I've also decided to change the theme.. as you'll see above in my description, our blog (mine, Tim and Elijah's) is going to be about general things that I happen to be thinking about, or things that are going on in our lives (particularly for those people who are living far too far away and so are unable to follow closely along).


Anywho, I've also decided to make another - rather large - change, and this one you'll have to help me with. I am no longer a lazy sod (and I would appreciate if those negative ninnies could refrain from saying 'yeah right' about now). I've been lazy for about as long as I can remember... I'm really sick of spending all of my time on the computer, or watching television. I'm a homemaker. That is my job, and the description of a homemaker is not 'one who sits on their arse doing nothing all day, but occasionally hangs out the washing'. In fact, the actual description of a homemaker is: 

Homemaker

A lazy woman who sits around the house all day, often under the illusion that their job is just as hard as a mans, and that they deserve to be paid for it. Of course, they fail to take into account the fact that most women waste half of the money their man makes on crap they don't need like about 20 pairs of shoes and other unnecessary garbage. Also, when asked what their job is, many women will say "I'm a homemaker!", when in reality they are unemployed. Brad's mom is unemployed and stays at home all day sitting on her ass. She is a homemaker.

Oh wait, that's the chauvinist Urban Dictionary version (and, scarily, quite accurately describes Lazy Holly).


Here's the aspirational version:


A homemaker handles household responsibilities as his or her main daily activity. Common tasks include cleaning, cooking, and looking after children.

One of our dreams (mine and Tim's) is to own a house in the country and be at least somewhat self sufficient. We will own pigs and chickens and a cow and sheep. We will grow vegetables, and fruit. We will make our own bread and dry our own herbs. For this kind of life, you cannot be lazy. 


I don't want Elijah (and future children) to grow up sitting in front of the T.V. Kids should be out climbing trees and finding curious things in nature. And since we, as parents, are the primary models for our children, it has to start here at home. In this house. With me. 


Today: Cosmetics - dishes, washing, floors etc etc.
Wish me luck!