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Our artsy attempt at a Family Purpose Statement
This vision you see before you is the result of a family bonding event gone this past weekend.
Let me start by being honest: things can get pretty nuts around here. I know this is true of pretty much every family household I know, so I’m certainly not pleading special circumstances, but just with the added factor of Mummy dearest to-ing and fro-ing all over the countryside for performances and such, well yes…I’m pleading special circumstances.
And with more performances coming up this year than ever before in our family’s history, I’ve recently realised more than ever how much we are in dire need of some help in:
a) making our time together really, REALLY TRULY count; and
b) getting more organised in terms of practicalities. (Oh dear HEAVENS when we can finally afford professional help with that I will consider that my moment of having “made it”. You have it in writing.)
So, I headed for the first place any approaching-overwhelm mother would in such circumstances: an all-you-can-drink buffet a helpful e-book. After seeing it plugged on another blog, I opted in for this one: One Bite at a Time: 52 Projects for Making Life Simpler.
Thus far, I’ve checked off a couple of these projects, much to my delight (hello morning routine! Menu planning! IS THERE NOTHING I CANNOT CONQUER?!) and last night, the five of us gathered together to nut out one of these tasks as a family: crafting our Family Purpose Statement. A little cheesy? Sure. But those of you who know me well know how I love to embrace the dairy in life.
We each contributed ideas to the kind of family we want to be, even littlest (whose contribution of a Buzz Lightyear quote: “I come in peace!” was included on the grounds that:
a) we wanted everybody in the family to be a part of the statement; and
b) once we adapted it to “we”, it actually is rather cool indeed. WE COME IN PEACE, YO!
Then today, we set about emblazoning it in gold. Only that didn’t work out, so we opted for the next best thing: a mixed media collage.
It now has prime position in our kitchen. And I kinda love it. Now I finally have something to stare dreamily at when I find my happy place.
Note: I have already uttered the phrase today (that’s right, on DAY ZERO):
“Where does it say “hit each other!” on the family purpose statement? WHERE?!?!?!”
I am not proud.
And yet…I am.
Things To Do With Kids in Brisbane: Get Thee To The Abbey Museum!
My little girl in a low budget ad for stranger danger? WRONG, silly! We're at the Abbey Museum! Oh YOU!
Though my grandma always tells me not to tell people, lest I be suddenly the subject of some sort of medieval ages type prejudice from the sins of the forefathers, apparently our family is in possession of Viking blood.
Perhaps that – or just a fondness for headwear with horns – was behind my immediate compulsion to take the kids to the Abbey Museum when I saw their advertised “Family Fun Viking Week!” Yes! If nothing else is gonna make me feel like Mother of the Millennium, it’s blowing an ivory horn while wearing shiny stuff!
I decided to surprise the kids, not telling them where we were going, so as to spring the amazing awesome on them for maximum effect.
We turned into the museum.
“WHAT?” they groaned. “A museum?” Insert enough whining to make Mummy start staring at the array of blunt axes with a dangerous glint in her eye.
That is, until we walked into the actual museum itself, where shortly after being christened with their new names…
Rechristened for the day!
I took great pleasure in pronouncing this all day with a rolling "R"!
…the kids were handed weapons.
TURNING POINT.
Awww...Holger's first axe. Bless.
I love how he looks actually sliced in half in this one!
Suddenly, Mummy’s lame idea turned into the MOST. COMPLETELY. AWESOME. THING. EVER.
The Abbey Museum, as it turns out, makes a real effort to not just be a museum of the “come in and stare at shizz” variety, but of the “come and interact with things, do stuff, handle bits, dress up, make props, get into it!” kind that pint-sized (and not-so-pint-sized) tikes really do love.
For a day, they became knights. Archers. Shield makers. Archeologists.
Being instructed in the art of archaeology!
Sifting up a storm.
Receiving sage-like instruction from the local village wise man.
Sigrunn Hood
They don't mess around here. The kids take aim at an ACTUAL KNIGHT!
Even Mister 7 got into the beading: I proudly wear this necklace of lovely from my Viking offspring.
Painting their shields. I was overtaken by a desire to come up with a family crest.
And ultimately, they became Mummy fans.
As we drove away, I turned to Mister 7.
“See?” I said. “I told you you’d like it!”
“I didn’t like it,” he said.
“Huh?” I said.
“I LOVED it!”
This viking Mama was just a little bit chuffed.
*This is not a sponsored post. We simply rocked up and did it and loved it. Note that these activities were part of a special Family Fun Viking Week, for deets on what else is going on week to week at the Abbey Museum you’d be best to check their website. I do know they have a rocking Medieval Festival mid-year, preceded by a special one-day festival event focused on the kiddies which we will almost certainly be at!
Dawn French on Being Apart From Her Daughter
I have had to stop writing here to have a little self-indulgent weep, as I allow the significance of your easy forgiveness for my absence, and the sheer warmth of your appreciation, to flood through me. I should be with you today. I don’t feel guilt about it, I just feel the pain of separation, which confirms of me how connected we are.”
Dawn French in “Dear Fatty”.
Things to Do With Kids in Brisbane: Get Thee and Thy Brood to GOMA!
Mmmm. Colour. Sugar.
In an effort to be at least mildly useful in this here life, I’m gonna occasionally be posting some stuff about, as the title suggests, “Things To Do with Kids in Brisbane.”
I might as well call it “Things I Do With Kids in Brisbane.” Or rather, “Things I Have Just Done With Kids and Photographed The Living Bejinkers Out Of In Brisbane”. Or, just “Instagram. Dawwwg.”
Anyhoo, in case I haven’t already told you, the might fine folks at the Queensland Art Gallery and GOMA recruit me, on occasion, to help out with some of their incredible kids’ programs. I have been doing this for many years now and I love it with a deep passion I would normally only reserve for anything smothered in dark chocolate.
As a result, all of my kids have spent much time enjoying the incredible array of visual and other sensory delights on offer at both galleries. This past weekend I was presenting some kids’ tours of “Yayoi Kusama’s Look Now, See Forever” which is just…well. Mind-blowing. If giant balloons and infinite layers of polka-dots don’t float your boat then please stop reading because clearly we cannot be friends.
A polka dotted PIANO? PIANO?!?!???!! I am weeping with joy right now.
You can play it AND smother it with dots! Is there nothing impossible in this world?
Part of the Yayoi Kusama exhibition is the room in which the above pictured piano is in. It is called “The Obliteration Room” and as you go in, you are handed a sheet of polka dots to do with as you like. Coat them on the mirrors, on the couches, on the floor…plus I believe there is a camera taking time lapse footage of the entire thing, which should look GAAAAHHHHMMMAAAZZING! So much fun, my daughter and I battled it out for the title of “She Who Is Most Enamoured.”
You must GO!!! Deets on the amazing kids’ programs are over here.
Any suggestions on adventures in Brisvegas (or indeed, other places, us being the occasionally travelling brood that we are!) to have with kid lets that I should embark on, photograph and post about? Shoot em through!
2011: MY YEAR IN REVIEW
After a beyond crapola 2010, complete with car accidents, toddlers breaking legs and husbands being hospitalised, I was ready for a pretty damn spectacular 2011.
I’m chuffed to see now, that a) it didn’t disappoint; and b) my blog is so incredibly useful in terms of remembering what the heck happened! So here tis.
January:
- kicked the year off in typical uber-optimist fashion by making a nice juicy and just mildly ambitious set of goals.
- made our preps for the flood situation in Queensland, thanks to my hubby’s special brand of genius.
- flew to Sydney with littlest to shoot some videos for Nestle’s “Mums Secrets” site.
- got my new improv comedy baby, Gumball Theatre, ready to launch.
February:
- did a sugar detox via a very dodgy deal with my sister-in-law.
- Little Miss 8 got the all-clear from her CT scan. Thank heavens!
March:
- was offered a last minute chance to go to Adelaide Fringe to do the last week of guest spots in Titters.
- while I was at there, I saw fit to crowd surf to Farnsy. As you do.
- launched Small Hands Big Hearts with my sister-in-law, plus added more projects to my dream list.
April:
- had a much needed family break out on my BFF from high school’s farm, way out west. Toasted marshmallows, hung in hammocks, rode motorbikes…agh.
- cried my eyes out, having been so deeply touched (much more than I ever could have thought) at Eddie Izzard’s doco “Believe.”
May:
- was apparently a month of musing. I particularly like this on “Delusion, Entitlement, Belief and Taking the Time to Get Good” and this on “Conan O’Brien’s Burning Building Approach to Getting Stuff Done”.
June:
- debuted my one-woman show (the work-in-progress version) at the Adelaide Cabaret Fringe Festival.
July:
- was all about LA with massive thanks to The Ian Potter Cultural Trust.
- on top of the amazing sundae that was my designated training with my heroes and mentors Gary Austin and Michael Pollock, the cream was meeting Sarah Silverman, seeing Eddie Izzard live, seeing fifteen thousand improv shows…
August:
- Miss newly-9 was given a YoungStar award for her awesomeness with Small Hands, Big Hearts.
- was featured in Cosmo Pregnancy.
- created a new comedy showreel.
- had my first TV spot on Briz31.
September:
- dedicated my new solo show to Chris Daniel.
- put said show on at Brisbane Powerhouse to an amazing home crowd.
- made a trailer for it.
- and took it and my 2-year-old son to Melbourne Fringe which was freaking hard.
October:
- continued the touring with a toddler antics, with great things (like publishing my first guest post on Mama Mia) and awful things (like headcoldy tantrumming 2-year olds) and small audiences!
- then just when I’d almost given up hope, I had the ridiculously cool and very unexpected (as in, so unexpected that I was a hair away from not even showing up to the awards) honour of being given the Award for Excellence in Cabaret!
- topped off October with a homemade family comedy Halloween.
November:
- finally, FINALLY signed with a terrific agent! WOOHOO!
- as such, got some new headshots done by the excellent Marty Pouwelse.
- started fleshing out my goals list for 2012…
I Don’t Know How She Does It: A Review. (Or: “Meh.”)
Image courtesy of Hollywood Blurbs.
I wasn’t expecting a whole lot from this movie, namely cos I’d already read a lot of bad about it. Sometimes I find this works to a film’s benefit. Walk in not asking for much, be pleasantly surprised.
So, to be clear, I wasn’t expecting much, but was hoping for a little.
Also, it is worth noting that these days it takes a lot for me to hate a film.
Firstly because I appreciate just having a night with my hands free of children and instead full of popcorn, shoved at a possibly dangerous rate down my helpless throat before my gullet has a chance to reject it.
Secondly because…actually, no, there’s really only the first.
My auntie, the wise.
The above summation from my auntie pretty much accurately sums things up.
I didn’t hate the movie. I didn’t love the movie. It was just a bit…meh. OBVIOUS.
Lady looks like she can do it all.
Lady actually can’t do it all.
Lady realises this.
Lady spends a lot of time with a co-worker.
Lady very quickly snaps out of any notions of that shizz.
Lady smiles adoringly at her family while snowflakes fall.
I mean, come on. Who hasn’t had THAT?!
As I said, I didn’t hate it. But, in the words of Carrie Bradshaw, “I couldn’t help but wonder…”
Couldn’t they have dug a leeeetle bit deeper?
Then again, as complacency incarnate at times, perhaps I can really learn from this.
Here’s hopin.
Now can somebody please throw rice at me and I can pretend it’s snow?
Tittilating adventures in toilet training!
Image courtesy of younglovin.blogspot.com
I’m posting this pic as:
a) it represents what has been taking up a majority of this week’s activity, as opposed to much work, blogging or otherwise. Call me crazy but I don’t like to mix bodily fluids with keyboards if I can help it.
b) it makes me feel a lot better about how our toilet training is actually going.
Hope all’s well in your world!
x
The first Comic Mummy DIY: Cape Up Your Batman!
Your materials.
I do love me a good DIY. Oh, if I had a penny for every DIY I’ve ever read (and never actually completed) I would have me enough pennies to think about making a damn fine penny-mosaic.
As such, I thought it high time I brought a little DIY magic onboard club Comic Mummy. This one’s a little bit of awesome I cracked out the other day, when Mister 7 approached me with the manners of a Deportment School graduate* (*may be code for whingeing) and asked whether I, his darling and extremely crafty mummy, might be able to conjure up a cape of sorts for his Batman figurine.
Child. Say no more.
The results were, I believe you could say, STUNNING.
And being the selfless crafty-mistress that I am, I couldn’t keep such resourcefulness to myself. So here it is. Instructions on how to achieve such lofty heights of brilliance yourself.
You will need:
- 1 Batman figurine (or insert your figurine of choice.)
- 1 Cape (either robbed from another figurine or bought. Or, if you are really desperate, just cut off a bit of tea-towel.)
- Stickytape.
HOW TO MAKE YOUR CAPED BATMAN:
Step 1: Take above-mentioned materials.
Step 2: Tape that mo-fo.
And voila!
Note: there is an optional Step 3, should cape tear off, which it occasionally* (*might mean regularly) will. In this case:
Step 3: return to Step 1.
If Step 3 recurs, then go to Step 4.
Step 4: hit your head against a wall. Then go to step 5.
Step 5: write a blog post.
Melbourne Fringe: Touring With a Toddler Installment 6: The Warts’n'All
Me and the little dude trying to gain a little perspective. Get it? A little perspective? Huh?!....Tap, tap, is this thing on?
So I’ve written a truckload on here (well, okay, perhaps enough to fill a small ute) on the “touring” side of this series (i.e. all the festival/show/comedy element of things), while grossly neglecting to shed much light on the “with a toddler” part.
I do hope that I don’t make it look easy. If I ever do, that is only because I am not actually writing about it. Because it is NOT EASY. In fact, this is pretty much one of the toughest gigs I’ve ever done. Single mothers, I take my hat off to you. And I won’t stop there. I take off my hat, clothes, undies and will even exfoliate in your honor.
Put down the stick, son.
The thing is, he’s not a bad kid. But he’s just…a toddler. And usually I have back-up to help me through adventures like traipsing through the city. Back-up that helps me stay calm during instances, where, say, he pulls his socks and shoes off and throws them across random footpaths over and over and over, despite the fact it is a very cold and and very rainy day. When I finally give in to his refusal to wear them, an older lady takes it upon herself to ask HIM (not me) but him, “Where are your socks? Your feet must be FREEZING!” and he greets this response with a pitiful look at me and a subsequent screech of: “WANT SHOES ON!”
It’s times like these, you want nothing more than to plead with the little guy to “JUST STOP BEING SO…TWO!”
But I do not do this. Instead I try to run him ragged in the mornings, convince him to watch a movie in the afternoons so I can try to power nap, and in moments of desperation, take umpteen photos of him to get a little perspective and remind myself that he is in fact, also delicious.
He is delicious, right? RIGHT?!
Seriously, when I come home each night post-show and he is sleeping and toasty and peaceful I just want to cuddle him and never stop. It was my choice to bring him. And most of the time, I am glad I did.
But really, why can’t my kids just write a “dear dream nanny” letter that I can tear up and throw into the fireplace like they did in the good old days? Huh?
Melbourne Fringe: Touring With a Toddler Installment 3: Small Crowd, Big Love.
Night two. With Melbourne weeping like a postnatal mother last night, I was bracing myself to perform for an audience of three. But oh ye of little faith. SIX! Six audience members, I tell you! I am moving UP! They were delish. I wanted to smother them in chocolate and nibble on their lobes. We had a grand time together, even when my radio mic attachment commenced a dance with gravity down my tights mid-show. My recovery efforts brought new meaning to the term “an intimate audience.”
Then, at the end, the “Sexy Six”, as they shall now be forever known, blessed me with a standing ovation. I was so over the moon about it that I asked them if they’d mind waiting til I got my phone from backstage to take a photo. And thus, it was re-created!
But it ain’t all the performer’s dream of six bums on seats, baby.
Oh no.
Today my poor little man, who has unfortunately come down with a little headcold, accompanied me on a tear and tantrum riddled (with occasional glimpses of lovely) outing to Brunswick. (Where, incidentally, I used to live many moons ago when Miss 8 was just a wee babe.)
Fortunately the library turned out to be the winning ticket, we arrived just in time for the end of storytime, followed by butterfly making. Which of course, Cassidy was all over. For exactly two minutes and fourteen seconds.
I got to sneek a peek into some op shops (sadly, pouncing on bag sales is just not in the budget this year!) but I couldn’t help looking. And drooling. And drooling. I’m sorry Melbourne. I have now marked my territory. Just thank your lucky stars I chose the right end to do it from.
