we have a comedian in our midst

Both our boys are pretty amusing. In a house where funny is currency, they either step up to the plate or go live in the yard.

Spike is gregarious and in your face. Your basic poo, bum, wee jokes are king. There's lots of tah-dah'ing and laughing at your own jokes.

Morrison, on the other funnier hand, is more absurdist than his brother. More thoughtful and interesting and has displayed a tentative grasp of the callback. Pretty slick!  He's our favourite.

Daddy, Spike and Mo were walking down a very steep trail in a nature reserve - 

Daddy: "Mo, be careful, we don't want you to fall."

Mo: "Yeah, I might break my head!"

Daddy: "Yep, and you might use your head for something someday..."

Mo: "Yeah, for eating!"

Later, at dinner, as Daddy was telling the story to mummy -  

Mo puts a bite of food to his forehead and says with a very straight face, "It's not going in!"

End Scene.

And some other recent gems.

"I like tidying up but I don't like it on Wednesdays."

Immediately after a quite barky croup cough "Did you hear that, Mumma?! There's something wrong with my brain!"

"Georgio says when you die you go to Kevin, bit I think that's probably ridiculous."

"Daddy, when you're good enough to touch your toes you'll be in kinder just like me. And when we get home, I'll show you how to do press ups."

"Are you a Mum?" "Yes babe. I'm your Mum." "Right. Do you like to wear jeans?" (And now he's not allowed to read @robdelaney's twitter feed.)

"I can hear POPCORN on the roof!" Yes, it was a hail storm. 

And this little gem from July last year, "My favourite colours are red, yellow and monkey."

Perfect, funny little bugger. 

The PFLB's Mum xoxo


Ick. Sick. Blech!

I was sick. I've decided I don't want to do that again.  From now on, I will just be well - like Sporticus! 

Phew!  Glad we got THAT sorted!

Poor MoMo. One Saturday afternoon he got half way through his lunch and said, "I don't want anymore, I don't feel well."  That should have been warning enough. HALF WAY THROUGH LUNCH... this is the kid that'll tell you he's hungry while he chomps on a mouthful of food.

"Let's give it 24 hours," we said. We did. He was still pretty flat. "Ok, let's see how he is in the morning..." He slept in our room, only occasionally throwing up, what was by this time, bile. Monday morning he woke up and smiled, "I feel much better!"  He went straight to the couch with his blanket and his cloth and stayed there. He didn't want brekky. "Later." He had maybe, a mouthful of cereal (which we saw again later). Soooo, I trepidatiously went to work. When I checked in a little after I got to the office and he was still sleeping. A little later on, still sleeping. Later - sleeping, refusing to eat or drink and he hadn't pee'd! He lied to us! He wasn't feeling better at all!

Back in the car, back home to gather an armful of tiny boy and off to hospital.


They walked us straight in. Took his temp, checked his obs. Took us straight back to pediatric triage. He saw a doctor within 10 minutes, in fact, the Doc beat the nurse in to the room to admit him. Vomiting, temps, lethargy, responsive but not engaged. He refused ice cream, Icy poles, fizzy. After much cajoling, he finally decided he might have "a warmed up icy pole."  The doctor bought back a partially thawed one in a cup of water. (heh I'll give him points for thinking outside the box.) Mo took half a sip and laid down again. "No, I don't want it."

They put Emla cream on his hands and I asked them to give him nitrous if they were going to put in an IV or take any bloods.  They did both. And they did give him the gas. He slept RIGHT through it. Didn't even open his eyes when the canula went in. SO utterly trauma free. The way ALL children should be handled in hospital.

Backstory - Mumma had just been in hospital the week before he got sick, with pneumonia (what else?!) so they xrayed his tiny chest too. It was clear. He'd lost 2 kilos in a very short amount of time (he likes to "measure" himself on the scales in our bathroom so we knew what he'd weighed last week) it became quite evident he was not going home that night. Or the next. Or, the next.


They took blood cultures, hung an IV, gave him some dextrose as his blood sugar was only 2 and started hitting him with IV antibiotics. Two lots. Every 4-6 hours. What ever was going on with him was going to have it's arse summarily kicked.

He just, slept. Didn't want to drink or eat. Just wanted to sleep.

Day three he started to pick up a bit. Apple juice was the drink he'd have. No to icecream (who's kid is this anyway!?) No to chocolate milk. No to icy poles and no to chocolate frogs. Again, I ask. Who's kid?

Sammy came in with some crayons and a book to draw in. And an Angry Birds hat. Tim and Cindy came in with the coolest array of balloons and WAY more importantly - a sandwich that I love so hard, I've asked to marry it from our favourite haunt on Brunswick St, Django Django (thanks Colin!).


Day 4 he started playing with the controls of the bed and he FINALLY stood up under his own steam. Woooo, gotcha some bed-head there Mister!

Day 5, during his Doctor's visit, he started showing off his Sporticus moves. Dr Nice grinned, I tell ya what. If he hasn't lost more weight, you can take him home."  I asked to be left alone with my child and a box of cornflour... He'd hung on by a thread. Home we go!

It sucks when your little ones are sick. It sucks extra hard if you have ANY medical knowledge whatsoever. Headaches aren't just headaches, they're aneurisms. Fevers and lethargy are very likely, the deadly meningococcal. A cough is inevitably, whooping cough! Never ever in any other avenue of my life am I SO glad to be wronger than wrong soup. :-)

We're home now. He went back to kinder today. We've managed to have some fun over the holidays - although given his subpar immunity, we've kept him away from the general germy public. The filthy unwashed masses.

Thanks to those darlings at Eastern Health. You were fabulous with my boy and even more fabulous with his over bearing, ever watchful, nurse's nightmare mother. I hope we NEVER see you guys again!


Onward and upward, eh?


Mo's Ma xxxxx



"I am. I am four. I used to be three and next I'll be five, but right now I'm four. I got a helicopter and a camera and a new suitcase for my holidays and some cake and chocolate and I got all my friends!"

This kid of ours is quite definitely the Cat's Footsie Pyjamas. He is also the Bee's Arthritic Knees and knows where the Dog's Denim Jacket is... ok. Well, you get the point!

Four. FOUR!? Seriously!


His new waterproof camera had almost 100 photos on it in the first 10 minutes he owned it. Luckily he has a brother who loves posing - as they say in the classics, a match made in heaven.

As I said to him when we tucked him in after his day, "We are so lucky to be yours. And I'm really glad you don't live in me any more."


Happy Birthday Mo Flynn! We know you're going to have a fantastically awesome year.

Mumma, Daddy and your big brother Spike. xoox


Kinder Kid? Me? Totally!


Meerkat t.shirt and skinny jeans? Check.

New yellow bag, with a planet on it? Check.

New lunch box and drink bottle? Check.

Cute eager little kid who knows alllll about kinder? Double check!

Yup, it's that time of the year. Our adorable head on a stick is off to big boy kinder.

Does he rock it? Ah, have we just met?!

He went in, surveyed the scene (a skill his brother does not really possess - Spike's more your go in, ask questions later kinda guy).

Mo put his ginormous lunch box in the bucket, his drink bottle in the other and went out to play.

As luck would have it, there's a sandpit. He watched the other kids for a while. Hands on hips, quiet intent. Then he moved amongst them. Gently patting one after another on the head and saying, [with] equal parts gorgeous and patronising, "Well done!" and "Good job!" 


He waved a goodbye to his brother and Daddy but asked me to stay for a bit. Of course, then I was totally ignored while he went about his business. Digging, finding and supervising.

Up to the top of the Pirate Ship and over to the swings. Into the cubby house and along the stepping stones. He and another tiny boy called Gus dug feverishly in the sandpit for dinosaur bones, "I found it!" and also set the rules of the Racing Game.  They were off.

I was summarily dismissed when it was time to line up and go inside to hear a story. "Mumma, you go now. I've got everything under control."

He did too.


Pasting. Painting. Puzzles, Play Doh.

All his favourite things seem to start with P. 

Playing. pBooks. pWater. pSandpit... ok, I'm pushing things now. :-)


It's a sweet little kinder at the foothills of the mountain. Some of the other kids there have followed their Mums and in one case, their grandmother in attending that particular schooi! It's relaxed and serene. The kids are all SO tiny! How their parents have let them out of the house is almost unfathomable...

I stayed for "Talking Circle". Mo was in his element. I saw vast shades of his older brother. It was so fun! There's a little girl in his class who is quite the Little Miss Confident. All chatty and Look At Me. I think I love her.

But, back to my two. As my best friend (and their Arnie) calls them, Gummy and The Posing Meerkat.

Couldn't you just smash them to pieces and apply them liberally to your face?

Sweet, funny, demanding, non-listening, loving, lovely boys.

I do believe, we hit the jackpot.

Gummy & The Poser's Mum xoxoxo

PS I've just realised Mo is wearing the same jeans and hat that Spike wore on HIS first day at kindergarten.

That's either really sweet or a flagrant abuse of hand-me-downs. 

Sorry Mo! xxxxxxxxxxxxx


Looney Tunes, Explained

See, it makes sense once you hear it, Mo Style. 

Told ya!