Mother of a Man-Child

My life with teenage boys

Mum’s the Word April 5, 2013

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Easter BunnyHappy Easter to everyone!  Chocoholics rejoice.  For many, Easter this year marked the start of the school hols, and therein the end of the school lunchbox routine for a few weeks, and the start of entertaining the kids 24/7.  But it was also Easter for employees, a short break for we full-time workers that was a welcome respite from the five-day grind.  Do you think we would enjoy it so much if we didn’t work full-time?  Probably not, after all it is absence that makes the heart grow fonder.

We made the decision to head to the Gold Coast with sister of a man-child (leveraging a work trip to good effect it has to be said), leaving the men-children at home for Easter.  At 17 years old, we debated whether or not we could trust them at home, and decided the time had come that we could.  However, we also importantly decided not to tell them our plans until we were virtually walking out the door.  We all know how quickly they can organise a party these days, so why give them any further advantage?  We also ensured the car keys were hidden, lest they indulge in joy-riding again!! (You can read about that here).

Credit to sister of a man-child, as she maintained the secrecy around our holiday for a few weeks.  If truth be known, I think she actually liked having one up on her brothers for a change.  However, at the last-minute our secrecy almost back fired on us.  “The deck” (now officially christened by the boys and proving to be a successful venue for small gatherings), was planned to be the scene for “pres” for an end of season rowing party that had been in the diary for quite some time.  The idea was sprung on us at the last-minute, and we were actually very reluctant for him to hold it, especially since it was the day we left and we knew we weren’t going to be here to supervise.   So we dug in our heels with countless reasons to not host it, and finally luck delivered us the solution we needed.  The official party was cancelled, there-in ending the need for any “pres” at all.  Trust me that was close!

The following night we learned that one of the boys was invited away for Easter, leaving only one at home.  Even better – they tend to be more trustworthy alone in my view.  As it transpired we told one of them our plans late the night before we left (actually as a reward for his behaviour and attitude), and the other literally an hour we before we walked out the door (yes, he had been a right little shit and we were punishing him in our own small way).  And the response?  They were a little surprised, but didn’t have much choice did they?  One asked how long we had known and kept it to ourselves?  We nonchalantly replied “Oh, about a week” (or two). :)

So how did it go?  Well actually pretty well.  There were definitely a few gatherings in our absence (all made public to us not secret), and we came home to a thoroughly clean house, including a washed deck.  At least one man-child understands the need to reinstate the house to its normal order.  The biggest issue was the other man-child whose only job was to put out the rubbish bins before he went away – and yes, just like the other time, he didn’t do it – aaarrrgh!  Seriously annoying.

Our house-sitting man-child was even good enough to fill in the answers to the questions his sister had left for the Easter Bunny.  Now that’s a nice thing for a big brother to do isn’t it?

So tell me, at what age did your parents let you stay home alone?  And for how long?  Do you think we are being too trusting?

The first time we left them home alone, we were mega worried.  But the end result was actually okay.  You can read more about that here:

http://motherofamanchild.com/2012/01/06/men-children-alone-in-the-house-for-a-weekend/

http://motherofamanchild.com/2012/01/13/post-script-to-home-alone/

 

Willing workers! August 24, 2012

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filingLast school holidays the boys were lucky enough to get a couple of days work at my employer. It was not at all planned, just fortuitous that someone asked if the men-children would be interested in a few days casual work over the holidays. And subject to an acceptable hourly rate (like they were in a position to negotiate) and suitable days that worked in with their busy social lives (again, let’s not be difficult), they gladly accepted the offer.

Yes a reminder to all they are both still UNEMPLOYED!!! Not by choice on anyone’s part although I suspect one has stopped really looking for a job….and the other has found one which we won’t allow so he has us over a barrel. Nevertheless, I remind them every time we provide a handout that they DO need to find a job. And I remind them again every time they whinge when I ask for a chore to be completed in exchange for said handout. It’s relentless really.

As an aside, have you ever seen the way a teenage boy hangs out a load of washing? There is no method. Whichever order they pull it out of the washing machine is the same order they throw it over the clothes-horse. And I mean throw! Clearly they have no idea what a coat-hanger was invented for, as I invariably find all the shirts thrown on the line, not hanging……seriously, are they really that stupid, or are they employing the age-old trick of burning the first thing you ever cook so you’ll never be asked to do it again? Probably. :) And it kind of works, because I practically re-hang all the washing after they’ve attempted to do it. I mean if their school shirts don’t drip dry on a coat-hanger then they end up extra, extra wrinkled, which is no good if the ironing lady hasn’t been, because they don’t get ironed otherwise. And then they go off to school looking like they’ve slept in their school uniforms for a week. (Actually one manages this look every day even if his clothes are all pressed).

Anyway, back to their short-term employment. We organised which days they would attend, which meant coming with me in the car to the office and home again. And getting up before midday! Luckily there was an immediate upside for both – extra hours on the L-plates, so no complaints there. As I take my lunch to work every day (I am so glad this culture now exists universally), I explained to them that they too could take their lunch, or pay for it with their “wages”. I told them I refused to fund their meals, when they were earning money, and that what was good enough for me and all my colleagues was also good enough for them. We did make a supermarket stop to load up on snacks, treats, drinks etc to keep them going throughout the day, but that’s just pantry filling in another guise.

Naturally they were quick to embrace the “freebies” provided at the office, the usual tea, coffee, biscuits etc. Before they had even started their working day they were wolfing down a glass of Milo each and a couple of biscuits. It reminded me of the time they first came into Qantas Club with me. You would have thought they’d never had Coca Cola before they way they drank out of the pre-mix machine. If they could have tapped it straight into their mouths they would have. It was hysterical and embarrassing at the same time (although I did just pretend I had no idea whose children they were).

To the men-children’s credit they put in a couple of good days work. They didn’t complain about the drudgery of the tasks they were asked to do (electronic filing, photocopying, tear sheets etc), they worked diligently, knocking off the set tasks in good time, and they remembered their manners. As an employer you couldn’t ask for more than that. Occasionally whilst working they did found time to argue with each other, as they tend to do….to be honest they sounded just like a couple of old men who have nothing better to do than throw barbs at each other all day as they sit and watch the world go by. I swear if they both live to 90 this scene may well repeat itself.

As a mother, I couldn’t ask for more than the compliments they both received from my colleagues in the days that followed. All parents know, regardless of what little shits they can be at home, if they know how to behave in “company”, that’s all that matters.

So would they do it again? Yep. Would the company have them back? Yep. That’s a good start isn’t it? Filling their days AND making money over the holidays has benefits for everyone. :)

You can read about their previous employment-seeking exploits here: Man-child I was convinced to try “pyramid-selling”, and Man-child II wanted to work selling burgers midnight to dawn to drunks!

 

We actually did miss the men-children! August 3, 2012

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Regular readers will know we recently ventured on a holiday without the men-children.  Our first taste of life without the boys for an extended period and also Sister of a Man-Child’s first taste of a holiday as an only child.  Let’s face it, it’s likely to happen more frequently not less in years to come.

It’s fair to say we all enjoyed the break, yes even the boys left at home and school.  We enjoyed a very relaxing holiday with only the demands of one child (and a pretty undemanding one at that) to satisfy.  Our daughter lapped up the undivided attention, although occasionally wished her brothers were in the pool playing with her (how quickly she forgets their tormenting).  And our sons enjoyed the company of their favourite “cool” uncle and aunt, the ones with no kids, who treat them like adults, and have taken them on fab holidays over the years.

I will admit to missing the boys – you always think of your kids when you’re travelling, enjoying something new or indulgent and thinking how much they would also enjoy it.  I know they would have loved the villa and the pool, and the cooked breakfast each morning.   As compensation, my daughter and I made a special trip to find the t-shirts they wanted (very, very particular brands for 16-year-old boys), with strict instructions about colours/stripes etc.  Thankfully my daughter seemed to be an excellent barometer of what the boys would and wouldn’t like.  She saved me from buying all the wonderful new bright colours in polos for summer that they would have absolutely hated.  As it was even with their guidelines, I still didn’t get it 100% right.

paul smith t-shirt When the first man-child walked in the door to find us at home, I was greeted with a hug and kiss and “how was the trip”.  OMG, I know, a lovely son greeting his mother. :)  Typically, he then dove into the bag to check the presents we had bought for him, and declared that half the expensive (by Bali standards) t-shirts were “gay” and what was I thinking!!!

Well, not surprisingly, I told him exactly what I was thinking.  Firstly, that he could put the t-shirts where the sun didn’t shine.  Secondly, that I wished we hadn’t bothered to spend so much time stressing about what t-shirts to get him at several different shops, and thirdly, that they actually met his brief.  I then declared that I would give them away to someone else and stormed off quite angry and upset.  It’s a bit like giving someone a lovely Xmas gift you’ve invested a lot of time buying, only to be told they think it’s horrid and can they take it back?  Only Bali’s a bit too far to go to exchange the colours isn’t it?  I received a similarly delightful greeting from his twin brother when he came home, thankfully without the carry on about the t-shirts.  He’s less fussy and his brief was far better!

I caught up with my twin sister who declared the boys had been absolutely delightful in our absence.  She struggled to even remember if they had fought.  She had helped them out with homework, and even been reasonable when she found one intentionally “late” so he would miss his English class.  The cool, calm head of a temporary (but excellent) parent.  She even commented about what lovely young men they were growing into, as exhibited at several family dinners in our absence.  Why are they always better for someone else?  Nevertheless, that is just what every parent wants to hear.  Naturally, within an hour of her departure both boys were fighting and we could hear the slamming of bodies upstairs as the household returned to its natural rhythm.  I swear, every night after we got home they seemed to fight, just to make us realise how nice our little break was!

So onto the next holiday, which will be WITH the boys.  It was nice to have the break, it was nice to miss them, and it was nice to come home, even to a fight or two.

PS. The “gay” t-shirts ended up in the cupboard – maybe not so bad after all? 

If you think we’re horrible, here’s the earlier discussion around our holiday plans and why we decided to leave the boys at home.  The Challenge of Happy Holidays for Everyone.  

 

The Challenge of Happy Holidays for Everyone? April 13, 2012

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As the men-children get older, holidays become increasingly challenging.  Not surprisingly, their idea of a good time is not one or two weeks spent with Mum and Dad and their younger sister.   Of course the incentive of an exotic destination can hold a fair bit of sway naturally!

As we planned out our holidays this year, a couple of key considerations came into play:

  • The men-children are now in Year 10.  Gone are the days you can take them out of school to travel in off-peak times, something we regularly did when they were in primary school.  Their younger sister on the other hand is only in Grade 3.
  • The men-children want to spend NYE with friends this year.  You would recall our decision last year to have the boys in Sydney over New Years for a family holiday – I don’t think we were too popular, but hey, shit happens.
  • The holiday destination of choice for the boys is the Victorian coast over summer.  That part of the coast that is the most expensive beach side real estate in Australia, and that seemingly 4 million Melburnians flock to in order to queue for coffee, the newspaper, car spaces etc.  Aaargh!
  • A family trip flying anywhere on the East Coast of Australia remains relatively cheap, but contemplate the West, or outside Australia, and the airfares alone set us back at least $6,000 and that’s before we’ve even set foot in another country.
  • Both boys had a week in Perth for the rowing national championships recently (part holiday, part sport), and one just returned from the Tiwi islands following a school footy trip (again part holiday, part sport).   They haven’t exactly missed out on much have they?

baliSo as we set about planning, a few realisations planted some seeds that led to a possible solution.  Father of a Man-Child and I travelled to Bali a few years back for his 50th.  We had a week there (without children) and it was quite frankly a brilliant holiday.  We’d love to take the kids back to Bali, but one look at the cost of airfares during the school holidays (a mere 250% increase on the “off-peak” fares) and that idea was out.

We also looked at the cost of renting a house in said popular beach destination, and discovered that we would pay at least $3,500 per week for a house in the area we wanted that could accommodate us and a few extras.  That’s $7,000 to be an hour from Melbourne, and spend your holiday with a gazillion other people.  Yikes!  I had to laugh, as one of the Men-Children also did some of his own web surfing to find some suitable properties.  He found a stunning place, with pool, divine deck, great house, and a good price he thought.  Yes, that is a good price – $2,000.  PER NIGHT!!!!  Like I said, we’re not talking cheap here.

So the solution you ask?  Well we presented it to the boys the other night.  We explained the options, the cost considerations, and the proposed approach.   And they agreed.  We would take Sister of a Man-Child to Bali with us for a week, during school term.  A short break for us during the depths of winter, at an affordable price (me trying desperately not to get too excited in front of them).  And yes we will do plenty of shopping for them – we all love a good fake!  Then two weeks at the beach over summer, in a house large enough to cater to their friends staying also, and over NYE (I shudder at the thought) so they can be where it’s all happening.  Fair enough we thought.  We get one holiday designed for us, they get one holiday designed for them.

Now please don’t get me wrong, I would love to take the boys to Bali, but the cost is just prohibitive, we can’t afford to do it all, and they need to understand that money does not grow on trees, and that you can’t have everything you want when you want it.  So tell me, is that fair?  Have we done the right thing?  I know it will only be two years before they are 18 and they can travel where they want, but I guarantee a free holiday (especially overseas) will still hold appeal to a cash-strapped student so who knows what we might plan or afford in the next few years?

In the meantime, I can plan our little Bali trip with glee, and then start looking for a bargain holiday house.   Maybe the boys will learn what the words “beach shack” actually mean?  LOL.  Or there’s always the caravan park, but one year when I mentioned that as an option, the look of utter disbelief from one of them was enough to make my hair curl.  Yep, spoilt!

We did survive our trip to Sydney last year with the boys over New Years – but not without some angst, as you can read here in Teenage Torture Techniques.

You can also read about the “Best Holiday Ever” with the boys at Hamilton Island last year, proving you can still have fun with teenagers.

 

The results are in! December 9, 2011

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studyExams are done.  School is out.  By the time this post is published the men-children will have completed Year 9 and the school reports will be in an envelope on their way home to us.  Time for a stiff drink!

Actually following the exam results, which we received earlier this week, it has to be said the receipt of the school report is somewhat of an anti-climax.  Especially the end-of-year report, when discussions of improvements that can be made are based on the year 2012, which to men-children about to embark on two months of holidays must seem an eternity away.  Nevertheless, we always diligently note the marks, and read the comments, as the latter are by far the most telling indicator of real performance and application in my view.  As we have long maintained, it’s not the marks but the effort that we are interested in.

As an aside, do you remember when you were a kid how LONG it seemed for Christmas to arrive each year, and the long hot summer holidays that seemed to go forever?  Perhaps it was my idyllic childhood, growing up in a suburban street full of kids, allowed to roam all day, coming and going from house to house just to quench our thirst or satisfy our hunger, before we headed back down to the “creek” to feed horses, or climb trees, or ride our bikes (yep, Doncaster was almost the “Greenfields” back then).  No fear of strangers, or need for mobile phones which our parents could contact us on – just the simple freedoms that kids should enjoy as part of an innocent and healthy childhood.

Anyway, back to the men-children.  For those who are wondering about the exams results, and their impact on our bank balance (you may recall we openly BRIBED them earlier this year), we are currently $400 poorer.  That equates to four “B” results on the exams at $100 each.  And you may wonder how the money was earned – well, in fact one man-child earned $400 and one earned $0.  C’est la vie!  Both are smart enough to have had equal opportunity to earn the money (up to $600 each was at stake).  However, one is not the best student (read lazy, and/or disengaged with the academic learning approach) so not surprisingly he didn’t do very well.  As I said to them, you both got the marks (and the money) you deserved.  I was somewhat bemused by the man-child who even convinced a teacher to give him an extra ½ mark so he would achieve the B grade, thereby earning himself an extra $100!!!  I think he’ll go a long way somehow. :}

You might ask if we’re surprised at the results?  I suppose not, especially following a meeting at school to warn us to expect bad results for one man-child.  We’re probably more disappointed that he didn’t achieve his best, and is wasting the opportunities he has at school.  (We won’t be the first or the last parent to think that about their child!!)  And we did actually want to give them the money, as it’s a nice way to end the year and start the holidays.  The man-child with $0 earnings was smart enough to pick up some work with a mate’s dad, so at least he’ll earn some beer money in the run up to Christmas.  Don’t feign shock I called it “beer” money will you – we’ve all been teenagers!

So there you have it – Year 9 gone, just like that.  The Men-Children are now closer to 16 than 15, a fact that scares me every day.  I hope they enjoy the break, and I hope they look back on their summer holidays with the same fondness I did in years to come.


 

We survived another school year (not without incident) December 2, 2011

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school booksFor all parents, the end of the school year is looming.  In no time the kids will all be on holidays for about two months (we workers can only wish), wondering what to do with themselves, and bleeding the parental ATM dry.

We survived the end of year exams, although the results are not in yet.  But that in itself is a major triumph, especially since we were at the school only a few weeks ago for a meeting to discuss one of the men-children and basically to receive a warning that his results would not be good.  (I really hope they’re wrong and we’re pleasantly surprised – is that naive or just optimistic?).  They basically told us that whilst they couldn’t fault our son’s commitment to sport at school, he needed to show similar commitment to academic subjects.  They, like most other mainstream schools, make no apologies for being an academic school first, with a multitude of other “opportunities” second.  It seemed a little late to be telling us this to be honest, although it didn’t come as a complete surprise.  You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink!  (Ditto homework).

Following our “meeting” we tried to ensure the men-children made the most of weekend study time.  That basically meant curtailing their social lives for two weekends and not allowing them out on a Saturday night.  As they still had serious sporting commitments, this wasn’t actually a bad idea in our minds.  However, in the eyes of men-children, spending a Saturday night at home with your parents is about the worst thing you can do.  Honestly, you should have heard the carry on.  You would have thought we’d asked them to walk naked down Glenferrie Road after school.

We also received some interesting correspondence from the school during the year about an “incident” involving both our men-children.  I can’t help but love the tone of carefully crafted letters to parents that are so politically correct in describing an event.  So the “serious incident” that involved a number of boys (including ours), followed “ongoing negative interactions” and “verbal interplay”, resulting in a “physical interaction” breaking out between some boys.  In other words a bunch of testosterone-laden boys who had been egging each other on all year finally had a shit fight and tried to punch the crap out of each other.  Thankfully both of our boys were deemed to be fringe dwellers only, and one was even credited with helping break up the fight. He later admitted that he’d actually managed to land a great punch, and even accidentally slugged one of his mates (LOL).  All part of being boys especially at an all boy’s school.  Of course I completely understand the school’s need to write a letter to all involved, and I’m thankful that ours didn’t do anything too bad.

As for how they’ll amuse themselves over the holidays – thankfully we love camps, and so do they!  Especially the summer camps and sporting camps that the school offer.  They will both be away before Christmas and again in late January.  We think it’s great for them to get away with mates on camp, and also to have time away from us.  We (that’s Father of a Man-Child, Sister of a Man-Child and myself) also enjoy the unusual dynamic that a house with a single child brings.  It’s incredibly quiet and we seem to enjoy spontaneous outings more frequently!!!

So onto the end of Year 9 and exam results next week.  You may recall the bribe we handed to the boys earlier this year – $100 for every B grade or better in their exams.  I suspect one will have a windfall shortly, and the other will be looking for lots of odd jobs he can do over the holidays. :)

Read about the bribery here.

 

The Holiday from Hell November 4, 2011

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A recent post by my friend and fellow blogger Mother Who Works, about their household battle with an outbreak of gastro, reminded me of a holiday many years ago with the men-children when they were just men-babies.   At the time I penned an article about our travels entitled “The Holiday from Hell” for the Australian Multiple Births Association newsletter.   14 years later I thought it was a rather amusing anecdote to share. :)

beachJuly 1997

And so the “M” family planned the perfect holiday.  A week at South Molle Island in the Whitsundays in July.  A direct flight to Hamilton Island (instead of a stopover in Sydney or Brisbane) and 30 minutes by launch to South Molle Island.  All meals catered for (parents and kids alike), a crèche for the kids, babysitting service, golf course, tennis courts, pools, beach, long walks, etc etc.  The perfect break for Mum and Dad after 15 hectic months with twins “C” and “H”.  No supermarket visits at 10pm, no standing in front of the fridge wondering what they (and you) were having for dinner, no hectic morning or evening schedule with Mum and Dad trying to get to work on time (for once) or get the kids to bed after a long day in the office.  Just pure relaxation for everyone, and a chance to spend valuable time with (and occasionally without) H and C!

The flight up was made somewhat easier courtesy of an upgrade to business class.  I guess the Ansett check-in attendant took pity on the parents with bags, twin stroller, and two restless kids waiting in the longest queues ever witnessed at Melbourne airport.  With extra room, H and C could basically trash a much larger area of the plane.  Fortunately, business travellers were limited on our flight, and the hostesses very helpful.  Of course, it’s difficult to enjoy the food, service etc in business class with a bouncing toddler on your knee throwing complimentary pencils everywhere.  Plenty of cheese sticks, tetra bricks, dry biscuits etc kept us in good stead for the first two hours.  However, as expected, the kid’s confinement was a little trying into the third hour of the flight.  Thank God for Vallergan, although it is our misfortunate that is has never worked on H.  He eventually fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion 30 mins from our destination, whilst C managed a one hour sleep.

Great to hit terra firma at Hamilton before a pretty uneventful (although somewhat rough) trip by boat to South Molle Island.  We arrived on a Saturday at about lunchtime and checked in to our home for the next week – the Family rooms at South Molle are more than sufficient with a separate room for the kids, complete with cots, and a veranda with safety gate to stop two particular boys falling straight down the stairs.  With two hungry kids we headed straight to the restaurant for lunch.  The restaurant staff only had to see us heading in before they grabbed the highchairs and had them ready at a table for us.  This exceptional service continued the entire period of our stay.

Not wanting to seem too eager, we immediately checked out the crèche on Saturday afternoon, memorizing the hours available, and effectively booking them in on the spot.  Our kids had been looked after by a nanny since they were five months old, with little time spent in crèche or similar facilities.  Nevertheless, H took to it like a duck to water, and instantly busied himself with the new toys, books etc.  C on the other hand, always the clingier child, was not happy with his new surroundings.  The crèche staff suggested a five minute walk by Mum and Dad, to see if our absence made him settle down.  Unfortunately, we returned to a very upset little boy.  Oh well, perhaps tomorrow it would seem more familiar (it better!).

After an attempt at crèche on Sunday morning, and again on Sunday afternoon, the staff finally won C over and we headed off for an hour long walk to the other side of the island, confident that the boys were having a good time.  Indeed they did.  So much so that we booked them in for Monday morning, so we could enjoy a round of golf on the 9-hole, short par course (basically ideal for amateurs like me).  We picked up two very tired but happy boys and headed to lunch at midday on Monday.  But before we had even ordered a drink to celebrate the start of the holiday we had dreamed about, H projectile vomited across the middle of the restaurant floor!  So much for lunch.  Needless to say H and I went straight to the resident nurse, who couldn’t diagnose anything particular at that stage, and home to bed for a rest.  As he had had no unusual foods on the island, nor come into contact with any sick kids at the crèche, we ruled out any nasty bugs.

We spent a quiet afternoon with H recovering, and planned our activities for the next day.  Dinner in the room was easy to arrange, in view of the sick child, so we had a night in.  At 10.30pm that night, we were woken by the sound of a child throwing up – not H, but C, and yes you guessed it, in his cot.  The same violent projective kind of throwing up as his brother.  (Starting to sound suspicious????)  By the next day (Tuesday), both boys seemed to have recovered, although unfortunately the crèche was out of bounds for 24 hours due to their illness, so we spent the day with them.  An uneventful evening over dinner (they cleverly had a sitting for kids at 5pm and parents from 6-8pm whilst kids are in the crèche), although we were forced to do shift work with dinner because crèche was out.  To cheer ourselves up we arranged for a babysitter to mind the boys on Wednesday evening so we could enjoy the only upmarket restaurant on the island.

By Wednesday morning H was clearly not well.  His general state of lethargy over breakfast was of great concern, and so another visit to the nurse was arranged.  By this stage I was starting to feel unwell myself, and the thought of spending half my day travelling by boat to the mainland to see a doctor was not high on my agenda.  Fortunately a phone conversation with a doctor and a very sympathetic nurse allowed us a course of antibiotics to settle what appeared to be an oncoming ear infection (with a flight looming, who wants an ear infection?).  And so the babysitter arrived that evening, and we left confident that the kids were finally on the mend.  Arrived home to find no problems, and went to bed happy.  Only until I had to make the dreaded dash mid-morning to the loo for you know what!  So there goes Thursday, with still no kids in crèche, me feeling lethargic and miserable, and seriously considering getting on a plane to go home early, although who wants to fly with a gastro bug?

Friday, and with the holiday drawing to a close, we planned our last night out with the babysitter booked again.  By this stage, we were all feeling better, although we sensibly stayed away from the crèche.  Fortunately we were able to borrow backpacks, buckets and spades etc for the kids, so we could get out and about with C and H.  After a great day with the boys we got organised for our “big night out”.  No sooner had Father-of-Twins dressed, than he was looking for the nearest receptacle to throw up in.  Of course we know gastro is catchy but this was ridiculous.  Not wanting to be a party pooper, he cancelled the babysitter, but insisted I go out anyway while he minded the kids (if you call lying prostrate on the bed feeling shithouse minding the kids).  I caught up with another couple, and had a great night, although I was sorry that hubby missed it.

By Saturday we were on the launch and on our way home.  By this stage, it was the only place I wanted to be.  Unfortunately it’s a little difficult to be upgraded on a flight that is fully booked (better luck next time).  And so we joined the “zoo” in economy, indeed fortunate to end up with the only vacant seat on the plane between us.  The kids spent the flight home standing on the meal trays and annoying the shit out of the people in front of us.  Thank God they were a couple of ten year old kids, and quite entertained by H and C.  I have never been happier to get off a plan than that Saturday in July.  Home to the routine, our beds, the kids’ cots and high chairs, my own loo to throw up in when I want, and of course a mound of washing and a visit to the supermarket at 10pm on a Sunday night, to restock the fridge for the coming week.

Of course the faces of my colleagues told a thousand stories at news of our Holiday from Hell on Monday!  In fact Rob’s company were so devastated for us that they insisted on sending us to Sydney for a child-free weekend to recover!! (And enjoy it we did).

And what may you ask did we learn from our well planned holiday?  Never leave mainland Australia with young kids, never fly more than an hour with kids under 10 years of age, give up the notion that a holiday north every year is still possible with kids, and resign yourself to the sensible ways of our parents, who long ago realised that a couple of weeks on the peninsula with the kids was just as much fun, and only an hour from Melbourne if disaster strikes!!!

November 2011

Ironically we just came back from another holiday in the Whitsundays at Hamilton Island – very much enjoyed by all of us this time.  I do recall when we left South Molle Island some hel­pful staff member telling us that it was very common for mainlanders to get gastro on the island due to the poor water source.  You can imagine how thrilled that made me can’t you?

 

 

 

 

Mother of a Man-Child: Suspicious Minds? April 29, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Mother of a Man-Child @ 5:00 pm
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beersOkay, so here’s the thing.  I seem to have an in-built bullshit radar that is on high alert these days.  Which means my poor men-children get away with very little.  I have taken the suspicious parent to new levels, with good reason it would seem, as the history of this blog shows.  But assuming my radar isn’t fool proof, they must be getting away with something, sometimes (just like their mother did in her day).

My learned and wise uncle once commented that sometimes it pays to turn a blind eye – and just not notice everything.  In other words, cut them some slack and just let stuff slide.  I have to admit I find that incredibly difficult to do.

Case in point over the Easter break.  We seemed to spend the entire school holidays cajoling and encouraging the boys to get out of the house.  Go to the movies, have a Pizza & Poker night, go bike-riding etc.  Any alternative is better than sitting on the computer or play station all day every day, indoors, not expending any energy.  Sure, I’m all for them having a rest, but teenage boys can take “resting” to a new level if you let them.

As the holidays drew to a close, even I was surprised to find Man-Child I sitting around at home on the second last day of the holidays, especially being one of the most glorious autumnal days Melbourne can muster.  I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t making the most of his last days of freedom but he constantly evaded all my questions.  Hmmm.  Until of course he sat down at dinner and casually mentioned a small gathering at his best mates house that he’d like to attend that evening!  Instantly explaining staying home all day in order to increase the chance of being allowed out at night.

So we asked for some information (the Spanish inquisition has nothing on me)!  When was this arranged? It’s very last-minute.  Are his parents home?  Do they know about it?  They just got back from holidays.  What time will you be home?  DON’T text us at 10.30 to ask to stay the night as you always do!  How are you getting there and who with?  My gut said whilst it’s all designed to feel like a casual, last-minute get together (nothing to worry about right), that wasn’t the case at all.  And you know what – my gut was right.

So I casually offered to drive my son to his mates!  Ah, really, but I was going to meet so and so….No probs.  Happy to give him a lift too!  (Gotcha).  And he assured me he’d get a lift home with a friend.  Really?  Last time you said that I didn’t hear a car pull up.  No parent would drop you up the road at midnight, they’d bring you to the door, which means you’re catching the tram home late at night, when I’d rather you didn’t (yes I know I sound like a paranoid mother, but I don’t trust the bogan element on the streets late at night – even in our leafy suburb I know boys who have had their front teeth knocked out in an unprovoked attack).

So do you know what happened?  My husband wisely offered to give him a lift (sometimes Dads just need to step in).  Turns out the reason he was meeting his friend on the way was to buy beers via some contact they have – I KNEW it.  Then he gets to the mate’s place.  Turns out the father of the mate didn’t really know about the party until it was too late to pull the pin – not impressed.  I KNEW it.  Oh and guess who rang Father of a Man-Child’s mobile at 10.30pm to ask if he could stay the night?  I KNEW it.

So do I have an uncanny ability to detect when something is going down?  Yes, it would appear so.  Do I need to learn to let stuff slide, just a little bit, just occasionally?  Yes, probably.  Should I stop worrying and just see what happens?  Gulp, don’t answer that – I’m just not sure I can ignore all my motherly/parental instincts just yet.  They might look like men, but they’re only 15 years old!

As my friends with older kids say to me – God help you when they get their license and take the car out – then you’ll know what real worry is.  So I better start up a new business before then – “Taxis for Teens” – fully funded by sponsors, free to kids and parents.  E.g. they can have a free taxi trip if they go via the Maccas drive-in on the way.  There, that should keep them off the roads for a while longer. :)

 

Mother of a Man-Child: Griswold Family Holiday Anyone? April 21, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Mother of a Man-Child @ 5:00 pm
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beachAs the men-children get older, so too does the challenge of finding a holiday to satisfy the whole family. This becomes increasingly important as their needs change, and also as the number of family holidays we are likely to have in the future with them diminishes rapidly. Although I have no doubt any offer to take them overseas will ensure an instant family holiday – no questions asked!!

That’s not to say that every family holiday should centre on the men-children, but more that we ideally want everyone to enjoy their time together. Mother of a Man-Child and Father of a Man-Child invariably want a relaxing holiday, having worked hard to ensure we can afford them in the first place; Sister of a Man-Child just wants to have fun playing with her parents and brothers and receiving bucket loads of undivided attention (fair enough when you’re seven), and the Men-Children want either access to loads of cool stuff or their mates on tap 24/7.

Both of these present challenges. Firstly, in order to satisfy the mate requirement, you either organise a family holiday with another family (no easy feat to co-ordinate in the modern world), or invite a couple of extra kids along on the trip (if you think you can cope or afford it), or stay where their friends stay. Having two men-children with different circles of friends makes the latter challenging to say the least. Especially when one of them thinks that Portsea at Christmas time is THE place to be (as I did at his age!!!). Apologies to my friends who have lovely beach houses down there, but I can’t bring myself to pay $’000’s of dollars over summer to rent a house there and queue for bread every day, or battle for a parking spot, only to bump into all my Melbourne acquaintances. Now of course if I had a lovely, large beach house I could hide in for summer that might be different. :)

So the alternative is finding somewhere that has cool stuff for men-children to do, to keep them entertained on occasion, and a place that also provides the opportunity for us to relax and unwind whilst entertaining a sometimes demanding seven-year old! Invariably we seem drawn to the beach for holidays (although we have done the odd snow vacation but frankly I find it anything but relaxing – I need a double espresso laced with Scotch by the time I hit the first run at 9am having got everyone out the door in all the requisite gear). There’s nothing quite like the warmth of the sun and the heady combination of sand and surf in Australia; we’ve been to some wonderful beach spots over the years with the kids, including Kangaroo Island, Merimbula, Sunshine Coast, Phillip Island, Gold Coast, Wilsons Promontory, Mission Beach, South Molle Island, Apollo Bay and of course Somers.

The beach is always the perfect antidote to Melbourne’s winter, and summer just isn’t the same without a spell beachside. And what’s a holiday in Australia without the mandatory road trip (we’ve done a few of them too) with the back of the car or trailer filled to the brim and the family resembling the Griswolds off on their next vacation!

But increasingly the boys are no longer happy to just be at the beach for days on end (certainly not in the company of their parents). God I hope this is normal and not just a reflection of how disliked we are by them? Like all good teenagers they seem intent on spending as much time as possible lying in bed, and then arising to feed, then swim, then feed and loll about again. Hence we look for a mixture of adventure and indulgence.

So we’re going to Hamilton Island in September, with lots of water activities and day trips for us and/or them to partake in whilst mother and daughter lie poolside, and hopefully some other teenagers they can hook up with day and/or night. And we’re considering Sydney in January. We figure there’s plenty for men-children and us to see and do in Sydney (bridge climbs, harbour jet boating, ferries, opera house, Sydney tower etc), and if all else fails, we’ll just spend days at Bondi beach watching the world-famous lifeguards rescue stupid international tourists from the many rips whilst they swim outside the flags – doh!!

BTW, I know it must seem ridiculous for me to be talking about holidays in January already, but as anyone with kids knows, you need to get in early if you are to be organised and find decent accommodation options for a family of five. So it’s never too early to float ideas with the family over dinner to see what sounds like a viable option. Any thoughts or suggestions welcome, especially if you’ve found a great spot that satisfies everyone.

 

 
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