A puppy for Christmas

We’ve been waiting 5 weeks to get our beaglier x mini foxy puppy. I had these day dreams of our family going to the park together in the evening with the puppy, all of us running around, laughing and having fun.  We will do that, in addition to taking her for runs, walks and play dates with other dogs.  It’s hard waiting, but puppies are vulnerable to the canine parvo virus, which is spread by faeces, and can kill young pups.  Going to the park, or anywhere else a puppy might come into contact with other dogs poop could be deadly until they turn 12 weeks and receive their parvo virus vaccination.  Right now she is only 8 weeks old.

I also didn’t realise that having a puppy would deprive me of sleep for a number of weeks.  They can’t go all night without needing to pee and/or poop, which means I also have to wake up to take her out to pee/poop.  It’s like having a newborn.  And like having a newborn, even though they are hard work, looking at her adorable face, and getting great cuddles makes it totally worth it.  I’m just glad this night waking thing should be over by the time university starts back up next year so my brain won’t be in a sleep deprived fog whilst I try to get good marks in chemistry.

On Christmas eve, I picked up our new puppy.  I got home long after the kids had gone to bed, upping my chances of concealing the puppy until morning.  She whined a lot over night, had to go to the bathroom 3 times, and kept us up for many hours.  We couldn’t really blame her though, we did take her from her mom and dad, we were strangers, and we completely changed life as she knew it.

In the morning, we woke the kids from their slumber (perhaps I was more excited about seeing their reactions to their presents then they were about getting them in the first place…), sat them in front of the Christmas tree, and then brought out the special present.  I’d wrapped the flip lid box  so that it was still a flip lid box, just a very Christmasy one.

Hannah and Daniel groggily sit in front of the tree

I should have waited for the kids to wake up a bit first, but we were impatient, so their reactions were not exactly the over the top, screaming with excitement type we were going for, but they were groggily excited nonetheless.

Each day Rosie settles in more and more.  Hannah adores her and wants to cuddle and play with her all day long.  Daniel is a bit scared of her since Rosie thinks a human running means they want to play.  Daniel runs from her, which entices Rosie to run after him, which in turn scares Daniel, makes him run faster and then gets Rosie even more excited for play time.  He’ll get used to her though.

When she wakes up in the morning, Rosie is like a 6 year old who’s consumed a huge bowl of lollies.  Absolutely wild.  She tears around the house trying to chew on anything and everything like a tiny ball of energy.  Needless to say, she will be going for morning runs with me as soon as she has that vaccination.

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Copyright 2013 Sheri Thomson

Christmas lunch

I’m not going to lie, it’s weird having Christmas in the summer.  Christmas was always my favourite holiday growing up.  I always woke up multiple times per night in excitement, so my parents made the rule that after 2am, we could open one present from our stocking per hour until 5 (or maybe 6? I can’t remember), when we could get up and open our whole stockings.  My brother usually just slept until one of us woke him up.  I, on the other hand, would be up every hour getting my one present.

After my parents and my brother and I all opened our stockings, we’d delve into the pile of presents that appeared under the tree over night.  Before then, there would be a couple of presents so that I could shake a couple and try to guess what wonderful things jiggled around inside, but my parents only put out most of the presents after we went to bed.  A tradition I’m keeping. Although we don’t have any presents under our tree.  I’m sure the minute I turn around, Daniel would be opening them.  It’s a bit mean to leave out presents and expect a 2 year old not to touch them.

We’d then indulge in some delicious breakfast, usually cinnamon rolls, before getting ready to go to my grandparents house for more presents, and early dinner with the extended family.

I loved seeing all of the relatives on my mom’s side of the family on Christmas day.  We didn’t see them often, but every Christmas, we’d all pack in to my Grandparents, or my mom’s aunt and uncles house and everyone would be there, laughing and talking.

Dinner always consisted of the same thing: Turkey, cranberry sauce, bread rolls, sweet potatoes cooked in butter and brown sugar, and vegetables.  I was, as you know, a completely ridiculous fussy eater though, so I just ate the bread rolls.  I think 7 was my record.

It was cold over there at Christmas time though, so a turkey and all the fixings worked.  Over here? Not so much.  I don’t want my oven to be on, heating up the already scorching house in probable upper 30 (c) degree temperatures.  Plus, if it’s a super hot day on Christmas, I don’t really want to be eating a hot turkey in the heat of the day.

Instead, we’re having a BBQ.  Barbeques Galore has a huge range of BBQ’s and other outdoor stuff if you don’t already have one.  This is the very first Christmas that we’re having at our house, since we have one now, so we can actually do that.  We won’t need to have the oven on at all, and I don’t even need to do the cooking.  BBQ-ing is Aaron’s job.  I bought some Christmas themed paper plates and paper cups, which are perfectly acceptable when one is eating BBQ’d food, so I won’t even have to waste precious Christmas time washing up the dishes.

The humble BBQ: Our Christmas feast vessle

I even found the perfect sausages: Turkey with cranberry, sage, and pine nuts. If that’s not an Aussie version of my childhood Christmas dinner (well, the one my family prepared, not that I actually ate most of it…), I don’t know what is.

*This post was brought to you by Barbeques Galore

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The Christmas crowds

It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but walking through the aisles of any supermarket, I am alerted to Christmas’ near presence by the abundance of displays filled with Santa Claus, advent calendars, stockings, and tree ornaments.  Alright, most people aren’t expats, so they don’t celebrate Thanksgiving over here anyway.  But I’m sure even over there in the U.S., aisles are filled with Christmas stuff.  And Thanksgiving stuff.  And probably bargain priced Halloween stuff that didn’t sell out in time.

Daniel and Hannah on Christmas morning last year.

Last year I left my Christmas shopping until the last minute and had to go out two days before Christmas and brave the crazy Christmas shopping drivers.  Seriously, stuff gets wild that close to Christmas.

This year, I have a new plan.  I’m going to shop online – starting at Quicksales.  I’ve already ordered some of Daniel’s beloved Thomas the Tank engine characters.  That way, I don’t have to take the kids shopping with me, ruining their surprise on Christmas morning, I don’t have to buy everything all at once (which is good for the budget, obviously), and I don’t deal with crazy Christmas drivers.

For their main present, the kids (and I…) are getting a puppy. I’ve researched the best breeds for kids, and I’m getting very excited.  I grew up surrounded by animals, so it seems natural to me.  We were thinking about getting a cat, but settled on a small dog because they are less likely to scratch and bite when you pull their tail or annoy them.  Kind of important when you have a two year old and a four year old.  Even puppies I can shop for online (crazy, right? But breeders have websites, and since we want a particular kind of dog, that’s the way to go), from the comfort of my own home, while the kids are sleeping and won’t have any idea what their present will be.

I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when they come out of their room on Christmas morning and see a puppy with a bow tied around her collar.  This is the first year that Daniel is old enough to understand what’s going on at Christmas time, so I’m even more excited about Christmas this year. Plus this is the first year we will be waking up to Christmas morning in our own house. Hannah is going to be so excited about the puppy, but I wonder which Daniel will be more excited about, the puppy, or more Thomas trains.  He does love Thomas trains….

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A bike for Christmas

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!  I turned over, still half asleep, and looked at the clock with blurry eyes, not recognising what the beeping until a few seconds later.  5am. It was my alarm.

“Merry Christmas Boo! Did you sleep ok?” I asked Aaron.

“Not really.  You?”

“Horribly. Between the wind and the garbage trucks at 3am, I hardly got any sleep.”  Maybe some of that sleeplessness was due to excitement. I couldn’t wait to see the kids’ happy faces when they opened their presents.  But seriously, who allowed the garbage men to collect the bins at 3am? So uncalled for.

Aaron and I wanted to be showered, and have our stockings already opened before the kids woke up. They are too young to sit around watching us open stockings, they want to open their own, and we didn’t want to miss them opening theirs by being distracted with ours.

Daniel and Hannah with their stockings. Daniel was still half asleep and had no idea what was going on.

We were super naughty and ate some of the s’mores Pop Tarts that I got in my stocking. Aaron managed to find all sorts of American goodies for me. I guess it was more of a pre-breakfast snack. We had a proper breakfast with bacon, eggs, toast, and hash browns after church. But you know, it was Christmas, so calories didn’t count. Especially since I went for a 4 kilometer run that evening, which, at the time, was my longest run ever. I’ve since completed a 5K run, after which, I nearly exploded, but that’s another story for another day.

My Christmas evening run. I had to make the most of the cool weather.

We went to Aaron’s Mum (YaYa) and Grandma’s house to open more presents and have lunch. Nothing like the gigantic gathering of relatives my family in the states has, but it was a gathering none the less. Christmas time is always weird for me over here. It just doesn’t seem right having Christmas in the summer.

This year felt a little more normal. The clouds opened and saturated the area with what turned out to be the most rain on Christmas day since 1942, and the coldest in 5 years. A mere 21 degrees (69.8f).  That’s more like a Seattle Christmas. Only far warmer.

Hannah decided she would be the present hander-outer. Which of course was difficult, since she can’t actually read.

“Mommy, who is this one for?”

“That one is for Aunty Jess and Uncle Jim.” I told her.

She skipped off, present in hand and gleefully handed it to Aunty Jess. “That’s not all Aunty Jess, there’s a coffe machine too!” Hannah told her as The Jess opened up a box of chocolates.

Everyone froze for a second, looking at each other wondering what to say, quickly followed by bursts of giggles.

“Well, I guess you can open it now then.” I said, giving The Jess the wrapped coffee machine.

Everyone opened presents all at the same time. There were no turns, there was no order, just chaos as we all got handed presents and opened them at our leisure.  Turn order would have taken hours and the kids would have been over it after 10 minutes.  Maybe when they’re older….

Daniel was running around putting things on his head and trying to steal Hannah’s things until he opened a box full of Dora figurines, his present from Aunty Jess and Uncle Jim. He does love Dora.

After about an hour of present opening (I know, there were way too many presents, Grandma and YaYa always buy the kids way too much stuff and spoil the them rotten), it came to the end. I took Hannah out of the room and when we came back, there was a big thing sitting there, in the middle of the room, covered in sheets.

“Hannah, that’s your present.” We told her.

She excitedly ran up to it and pulled the sheets off, revealing a shiny new pink bike with a basket, tassels, and even a seat in the back for her dolly.  Or in this case, an obnoxious penguin that sings Jingle Bells over and over again. Hannah cuddled that penguin all day.

Hannah on her first bike ride

She was over the moon. Immediately, we took her outside to give it a spin, which we filmed with our new GoPro camera (that Aaron and I got each other for Christmas) mounted on her handle bars.

Hannah got to ride for about 15 minutes before it started pouring down rain.

We stuffed ourselves silly at lunch time, followed by a decadent, choc mud mirror cake that I made from an Adriano Zumbo cake mix. Oh. My. Gosh. Delicious. It was an expensive mix, but totally worth it.

Adriano Zumbo choc mud mirror cake. The one that I made.

And then after the kids went to bed, I went running. On Christmas. As you do. And yes, I am a hypocrite. Earlier that day, I told The Jess she was crazy for wanting to work out on Christmas, and earlier in the week I told another friend the same thing. Oh well….

Hannah doing gymnastics on the handrail

Hannah with one of the sparklers Aunty Jess got her

Grandma’s table decorated for Christmas lunch

The Jess and me with our Christmas earrings

Hannah after eating her small piece of mud cake. We had to take her shirt off because it was covered in cake

The gingerbread house Hannah and I made in November. She finally got to have a piece on Christmas day

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Copyright 2012 Sheri Thomson

Flashback Friday: Legend of the leg lamp. I mean fish.

I haven’t done Flashback Friday in a while.  What can I say, I have an infant and a toddler, so going to the bathroom without anyone with me is hard, let alone keeping up my blog.

This weeks post is by Lois, from My Cruise Stories, AKA, my mom.  I was supposed to put it up for Christmas, but I didn’t have the time…. P.S. A while back, I wrote a post featuring the very same fish.

The Perfect Christmas Tree Ornament

I found the perfect Christmas tree ornament for Sheri this year.  OK, it’s not a leg lamp, but close.  In case anyone wonders why a leg lamp would make a great ornament, I’ll have to go back in history a bit to the point where this story begins.

 

It all started one dark foggy morning driving across the trestle on my way to work.  The trestle is a raised road passing over a couple miles of floodlands and sloughs (slow moving waterways).  Everything seemed fine until I spotted a dark car with no lights stopped dead in the road ahead.  Just ahead, in the dark and the fog by the time I saw this car I could not stop in time to avoid hitting it.  Luckily this road has two lanes.  However the car in the other lane prevented me from moving straight over.

 

I hit the brakes and hoped the other car would hurry up and get by.  At the last minute I dived over to the other lane. I just about made it, but the front corner of my pick-up truck barely clipped the mirror hanging out of the side of the car.  Not hard enough to break it off or anything, but it did leave a little dent in my truck.

 

After driving past the dark dead car, I saw some cops stopped in front of it.  Not right in front of it where their lights would have showed through the fog, but close enough to know it was why they were there.  Knowing the law frowns upon those who leave the scene of an accident, I pulled back over to the other lane after I got around them and stopped.

 

Busy apprehending car thieves, the cops pretty much just said go away, we don’t care when I tried to tell them I had hit the mirror on that car.  Perhaps they realized they should have parked behind it where people would see their lights and not hit the car and didn’t want to get in trouble for their negligence.  Or else they were just busy and didn’t want to be bothered.  Either way, I went on.

 

About this time my husband proudly came home from the taxidermist with a giant salmon ready to mount on the wall.  I thought it should go downstairs in his office where nobody else would have to look at it.  He thought it should go in the living room where everyone could see it.  We pretty much agreed he wouldn’t say anything about the dent in the truck if I wouldn’t say anything about the fish on the living room wall, which he hung opposite the front window.

Sheri hated the fish.  In spite of the fact that her dad always insisted people couldn’t see it from the road, when she had a substitute school bus driver and tried to explain where to stop, the driver piped up with “Oh, the house with the fish.”

 

Over the years, we took in a few strays.  Never official foster kids, just people who needed a place to stay for awhile.  Relatives or kids from the 4-H club.  One of the 4-H kids was Maria, whom I mentioned briefly in one of myblogs.

 

Around Christmastime, Maria started comparing the fish to the leg lamp in the move A Christmas Story.  Problem was, none of us had ever seen it.  I don’t think we had actually ever even heard of it.  One day Maria rented the movie and the kids and I watched it with her, anxiously waiting for a leg lamp to appear and laughing hilariously while comparing it to the fish when it did.

Maria moved on, but it became a family tradition to watch A Christmas Story every year.  One year Sheri’s dad even watched it with us.  When the father on the movie put his new leg lamp in the window, her dad looked at the rest of us quite seriously and said, ”Don’t even compare that to my fish.”

 

At which we all burst out laughing, having compared that leg lamp to his fish for years.

 

While out shopping for Christmas gifts this year, I looked at some Christmas tree ornaments.  There, dangling from a peg in between Sponge Bob and the Grinch, hung a row of little boys in glasses wearing pink bunny suits.  Ralphie, the main character of A Christmas Story in the much-hated fluffy pink bunny suit his aunt made him for Christmas. One of those had Sheri’s name written all over it.

If you don’t know what a leg lamp is, or find yourself wondering what this blog is about, just watch A Christmas Story. Everything will come to light.

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When is Christmas?

Me: “Guess what Hannah?!?!?!”

Silence.  She was probably giving me a funny look, but I was driving at the time, so I can’t really be sure.

Me: “Tomorrow is Friday, then there’s Saturday, then Sunday is CHRISTMAS!!! It’s almost Christmas!!”  Ok, maybe I’m a little more excited than she is, but I can’t wait to see her adorable little face when she opens her presents.

Hannah: “No. Not Sunday, MONDAY.” *giggles*

Me: “No, Christmas is on Sunday.”

Hannah: “No, Monday. hahahahahahahaha.”

Me: “No, Sunday.”

Hannah: “Monday.”

Me: “Sunday.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

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A surprise for Hannah

Hannah loves music.  Singing.  Dancing. That sort of stuff.  So I decided to finally put some Christmas music on my iPod for us to listen and dance to.

“Hannah, I have a surprise for you!”  I told her when she woke up, all excited about seeing her happy little face.

Her face lit up.  Her mouth turned up into a gorgeous big smile. Her face radiated excitement. “BUBBLES!!!!??????!!!!!!!!” She shrieked.

Uh-oh.

“No sweetie, I put some music on my iPod for us to listen to.  We can dance!”

Her smile turned upside down.  Her face turned to sadness.  There were no bubbles.  “Oh.” She said, clearly disappointed.

I turned on the iPod dock and let the Christmas cheer loose.

“I have my own music.”  She told me as she turned on an annoying tune from her keyboard.

Sigh.

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The Santa photo

My dad is a photographer.  I used to be a photographer (and of course I can still be one if I so chose…).  So you’d think with cameras around all the time, Hannah would be the most photogenic little thing ever.  Except she’s not.  She never has been.  I hardly have any photos of her smiling.  The only way to get one is to have the person taking the photo pretty much hide in the bushes while Hannah goes about her business.  As soon she sees that camera, the serious face, the frowny face, or the angry face comes out.  Or the running legs, straight towards the camera in hopes of grabbing it.

Needless to say, getting a good Santa photo is pretty much impossible.  Last year The Jess and I took her while Aaron was at work and we ended up having to sit with her in the photo.  That of course, was kind of odd since Aaron wasn’t in the photo, so we had to go back and get one with Hannah and Aaron.

But now Hannah loves Santa.  He features in a couple Mickey Mouse episodes, and even a Dora episode.  I told Hannah we were going to see Santa, and that she’d get to sit with him, and tell him what she wants for Christmas.  She was very excited.  She was asking to go all morning.

Aaron carried her over to Santa’s sleigh, but there was no smile.  No squeal of delight.  No excited “Hi Santa!!”  Nope, there was a frowny face, silence, a lot of staring, and about a foot between her and Santa.

On the other side of Santa, there was a little Daniel, sitting on his lap, ravenously hungry after waiting in the Santa line for half an hour.  Fingers in mouth, eyes anywhere but the camera.  Then the crying started.  Seems babies really are ruled by their stomachs.

Before we got there, I had high hopes of getting the perfect Santa photo.

But instead, it looked like this:

Maybe if Santa wasn’t just sitting there, with his blank stare and unmoving body.  I remember sitting on Santa’s lap when I was little.  He always asked me what I wanted for Christmas, showed lots of enthusiasm and then gave me a candy cane at the end.

A couple days later we decided to try again, since I didn’t have a decent photo to buy the first time.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!  I don’t want to see Santa!!!!”  Hannah screamed.  She was not impressed.

The moment her bottom hit that squishy seat next to Santa, her face crinkled up, tears poured from her eyes.  She stood up and held out her little arms, screaming for me to come and get her.

Daniel was in a good mood.  His belly was full, he’d had a good nap. He was smiling like a trooper.  So in the end, this is what we ended up with:

Which is great, if we only had one child.  Oh well, it’s better than nothing.

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Smells like Christmas

I was going to blog about this

Some of Aaron’s relatives came over for Christmas breakfast and presents this morning.  I was going to blog about eating waffles with stewed strawberries, real maple syrup, and ice cream, plus cheesy eggs and bacon and cinnamon rolls for breakfast, opening a million presents, and not actually cooking the turkey I bought because it was 33 degrees (91.4 F) and we really didn’t want the oven on all day in that heat, but then something happened.  Something so funny that I had to blog about it instead.  Something I had to change someones name for in order to be given permission to actually blog about it.  I’m just going to refer to the relative in this story as “Alex” because without changing the spelling, Alex can be a girls, or a boys name.  Plus, the person in this story doesn’t want to be named due to possible death by embarrassment.

“I think Hannah’s nappy bucket needs changing.”  Alex said to Grandma.  I put Hannah’s dirty nappies in a small, sealed, garbage bag lined bucket, changing it when it gets full (which is pretty much every day, as I said, it’s small).  “It’s really smelly.”

Grandma opened the poo bucket, tied the garbage bag shut, and took it to the bin outside.  She re-lined the bucket and put the lid back on.

“It still smells, we really need to find out what that smell is.”  Alex said, as he/she sniffed around the house.

I went in Hannah’s room.  No smell in there.  I could definitely smell something in the hall area.  “It smells like sewerage or something.”  I said to Grandma.

Grandma went outside, sniffing as she walked.  “There’s nothing out here.”

She went out the back, fearing that maybe, just maybe, the pipes were leaking and  poo was coming up through the ground.  “Nothing out here.”

“Hannah, time to brush your teeth.”

“No!”  No is her favorite answer to everything.

“Too bad, come on.”  I picked her up and headed to the bathroom.

As we neared the door, the smell assaulted our nostrils.  “Grandma, I found the source of the smell!”  Aaron checked the toilet to see if someone had left a nasty surprise by accident.  Nothing there, only the smell.

“Who’s been in the bathroom?”  Grandma asked.  “Never mind, that’s not important, it doesn’t matter, it just matters that we found the smell.”  It was lingering.  Too bad the fan doesn’t work.

“But I smelled something before I used the bathroom.”  Alex said

“Yeah, but you’ve been farting all day.”  I told him/her.

“No I haven’t.”

“Um…yes you have, we heard you.  Plus, Grandma said the smell was really strong in your room, she just felt bad and didn’t want to tell you.”

“Oh.  Oh yeah, I did too.  Oh, sorry, I guess it was me.”

Maybe it was all the chocolate, cheese, cookies, cinnamon rolls, and eggs.  Whatever it was, it was bad.

 

Braving the crazy Christmas shoppers

Why is it that at Christmas time, everyone seems to forget how to drive?  Or maybe it’s just that those people who don’t usually get out and about haul themselves out of bed to go in search of the perfect Christmas present/Christmas food supplies.  You know the ones, they have their licences, but they pretty much suck at driving because they hardly ever do it.  Either way, people are crazy.  Crazy I tell you.

There are lines to get in parking lots.  Then once I get there, I can’t actually go anywhere because the cars going the other way don’t get that the aisles between parking rows are actually 2 way streets.  They seem to think it’s perfectly ok to drive right down the middle of the lane/aisle/road/street/whatever you call it in a parking lot.  I finally get to the end of the aisle, ready to turn left and go to the next aisle when another stupid car with an equally obnoxious driver decides that it would be awesome to turn down the aisle I am about to exit, but instead of turning into the left lane as they should in this country, they decide to cut the corner and turn into my lane.  The cars in front of obnoxious car are still waiting in the aisle as traffic is appalling, so now no one can turn left, or even move because obnoxious car is blocking the whole lane.

All the crazies come out at Christmas time

There are no car parks anywhere, I’ve driven all over the over crowded parking lot full of useless drivers and didn’t find a single one.  I decide to high-tail it out of there as I didn’t want to go to that particular shop in the first place.  I only did to make YaYa happy.  I started turning left, to the final stretch of pavement that led to freedom.  But then one of those I-shouldn’t-actually-have-my-drivers-licence people going the other direction decided that he would move forward at the same time.  No worries right?  A 2-way road in a parking lot can accommodate cars travelling in both directions.  It can, but not when Christmas drivers are out.  This particular annoying man felt that he should take up his lane, and half of mine as well, because, well, let’s face it, driving in his own lane only is just a silly idea.

I couldn’t finish turning, so now I am blocking all traffic going the other way.  Fine, I’ll just wait until annoying man moves forward, (and hopefully, gets back in his own lane as he does so), then I’ll continue turning.  Annoying man rolled down the window on his hotted up blue Holden and glared at me.  GLARED at me.  Like it was my fault he can’t figure out how to stay in his own lane.  Wanker.