Kinder Kid? Me? Hardly!

Big year. 

Big changes. 

Big move.


Our blonde whirlwind on a stick is not a little kinder kid any more...

He and his bestie, Mackenzie have "graduated" from kindergarten and as far as I can tell, he now holds an advanced degree in Truck Races and Gluing.

We should now refer to him as Dr. Spike R Scott BSTR GHons He's hoping for tenure at Birmingham next year but for now, it's allllll about checking the Countdown To Xmas note he keeps under his pillow, in his wallet. *Four sleeps and counting


They had read Xmas stories at kinder, one about Jeebus and one about Santa. As he regaled the Santa tale he got to the end and proclaimed, ... so THAT explains where all those presents came from, last year! 

Yes, I guess it does. Here's hoping he can find his way here, this year?  His buddy Kenz is all over the Santa stuff. He's gone as far as to measure up their Coonara heater 'chimney' and declare it, "not really big enough". So Spike's interest is more by osmosis than anything.  Don't get me wrong he is ALL over the presents side of things. The How The Presents Get In To The House are less important.

He's had his eye on a few things. Helicopters. Truck Race stuff (your guess is as good as mine?). "Oh, I really need that backback water pistol... so I can get Mo."  (I'll have to get Mo a bigger capacity one) So we're trying to instill the art of gift GIVING to our tiny blonde consumer. Wish us luck. Wish him luck!

Merry Xmas, Happy New Year, What Did You Bring For Me?!

Quite probably until next year when this kid of ours is a School Kid. *yikes!*

Spike (& his parental units & darling loud sibling) xxxooo




So, now we know what it's like to take twelve 4 - 5yr olds and three 1- 2yr olds, bowling.  It's like dropping marbles on a concrete floor.... they just scatter, in every direction all holding something heavier than themselves!

Spike had a bowling party. The kids donned shoes, perplexed looks and followed the lady in front to the lanes where they were told a bunch of rules.  All the kids heard was "don't touch that thing" which of course meant they ALL touched that thing. (stupid place to put an electronic scoreboard if you ask me, right in front of kids, at kid height!) heh

Will, Charlie, Mackenzie, Ella, Mikayla, James, Morrison, (isn't he a musician) Matilda, Angus (declined to play, slept most of the afternoon on Papa's ample shoulder) Noah, Jordy and Caleb joined Spike in tearing up the hardwood.

The little little ones can NOT grasp the need for 'turns', which produces tears and the older ones just 'patiently' bide their time until theirs rolls around again. "Is it my turn? Is it my turn? Is it my turn now? I'm having a turn! I'm so bored of this, I want my turn now..."  I have to say, the kids were great.  Cheering each other on, not understanding that when you get a strike, it means you only get one turn.  heh wee Ella, Mikayla, Spike and Mo all got a strike at some stage (must be something in the water on our street).  Many of the kids picked up the spares (look at me, talking the lingo) and no one lost a finger or toe! Ella won with a score of 98, followed by Mo on 93.  Then Spike, Mikayla and I believe, Will.

One game each, then a Simpsonesque feast (sausage rolls, party pies, chips and something else yellow) followed by BRIGHT orange cake. (Chocolate cake inside my super-dooper no sugar frosting with a hint of orange).  Then we hired a truck to bring all of Spike's presents home (wow, he made out like a bandit!) so we're surrounded by nine miles of Mylar, ripped clamshell packaging and wrapping paper. **Note he was up at 6:30a to make sure everything was still there!

Spike, you're five! Only a heartbeat ago you were wrapped up like a big silver burrito and handed to me, your drugged up mother. You sure do talk more now!  But are only mildly more demanding.  Not sure if that's a disparaging comment about your youth or you babyhood.

Either way, we sure do love you. Happy Birthday buddy!

Mumma, Daddy & Morrison xxxxx


What Are We Again?

Spike, being obsessed with the calendar (and how it reveals how much closer we are to his birthday) he checks it every day.  He notices 'Yom Kippur" this Saturday. He asks about it. I tell him what fractured facts I know and he asks if we're 'having a party for it'?  I tell him no, we're not Jewish.

So, we're at lunch today and the waitress brings over a big bowl of salad. She asks Spike if he'd like some heirloom tomatoes, he says, quite loudy and proudly,. "No thanks, we're not Jewish."

Oy vey!


Rabbi Momma xxxx


Out Of The Mouths Of...

Spike came running in, giggling his head off.


S: "I've just had the best idea! How do you spell, Bum bum, pigs bum?"

M: "b-u-m b-u-m p-i-g-s b-u-m"

S: "Ah yes, of course. I'll need some paper and a stamp, please?

M: "What for exactly?"

A4 paper exchange occurs, amidst manical giggling.

S: "Well, I'm going to write a letter to myself and when I open it [insert more insane giggling] I will read it and think it's just the funnest joke to myself!"

M: "And you're happy with bum bum pigs bum?"

S: "Very!"

He posted it to himself Care Of the Cubby and he was right! He did indeed think it was THE funniest joke he'd ever opened and read.

S: "Hilarious."

PostMaster Mum xo


Phrases Most Heard in Our House

These are the repeat gems oft heard in our house.

Lemme See, Lemme See!

Again? Again!

No, He Likes It!

And the kids perennial favourite,

Oh No!

Spike is 4 & 1/2. Just wander by, in a the general vicinity. Somewhere within the 100 metre range and he'll tell you. He will also tell you the age of his brother, "he's only 2." (pff, what a light weight!) and has been known to offer MUMMA'S age, rank and serial number. 32, 24, 26.  shaddap

4 & a half sees him at his athletic, competitive best. Haaates to "not win". Loves to run and jump and fly at top speed. Does some of THE most impressive push-ups (I really must capture some on camera, steady-cam) and does "the best skids ever, I'm so good at skids" on his bike.

He's made some lovely little mates at kinder and engaged a few more in Battle of the Wils (it was never going to be a fair fight).  All in all, life's pretty good in Spikeland.

He can be spectacularly defiant and downright sneaky. He wants what he wants.  As we keep telling him, "It's only cute when Mummy does [insert random behaviour] it."  We can't be fairer than that. shaddap

Boys = noise + mess + violently applied head-locked love.  S'pretty grouse!

But oh, the noises.  Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!

Spike's Mum xo