Moving rooms Part 2; Vacuums suck.

Upon arriving home I was exhausted, I had hoped the magical cleaning fairy had completed the room swaps, and was disappointed to find IMO a worse mess than when I left. I obviously got a visit from our special ‘Mess it up’ fairy!
Kids were very excited, my friend agreed to come back at 6, so we got pizza had a drink, and psyched our self to MOVE stuff!
It really was an effort, as soon as I thought about going down that end of the house, all my energy drained away and I felt like crawling into bed.
Get the vacuum out, start to suck up the sand pit, unfortunately there isn’t just the dust in the air, but smoke also; how dare the vacuum die again! My name should be ‘Kill it’ Not Karma; I have a death power for all electrical things, no matter what brand, or what product, if it runs on power it will die.
After ‘resting’ the vacuum then trying it again (yes I have a death wish) we got more smoke, plus a weird noise coming from the machine, we decide to try the spare one in the garage. After setting it up, I remember why it is a spare one; it doesn’t work! It sounds like a vacuum, looks like a vacuum, but it doesn’t SUCK… vacuums should suck… literally, not metaphorically!
I decide to give up on this idea; I want to get the carpets washed anyway. ;)
We spend forever getting the rest of the debris out of the old room and into the new, organising as we go, the enthusiasm from the kids lasted about 10 minutes and they went missing, preferring to play board games down the other end of the house. Thank god, as they were slowing down a time-consuming process, my plan was to ditch anything I couldn’t find a home for, or was messy, or too little, or paper; their plan was to KEEP the lot no matter what, apparently that bit of screwed up paper with a bit of scribble is their most precious important item in the whole world!
I had made a huge deal to youngest DS about moving rooms and sharing with his brother, so that was the next stage, get his stuff moved in.
ANYTHING after the horror bed was going to be easy, so we attack his cot and dismantle it in no time; we put it back together as a bed. After all he is 3, and he really shouldn’t still be in a cot.
Finally that room is DONE, we call the children but DS is unsure about his ‘bed’, we compromise and remake the cot, with one side missing, and a bed roll rail. He’s pleased, and I’m happy one room is done so a couple of kids can go to bed.
Realising it is after 10pm, my friend and her children go home, and the night just disappears with cleaning, sorting, moving, arranging and thinking WHY did I start this!?

the finished room!!!

Moving the rooms (Part 1)

If we only had 2 or 3 children, we would have a large house… 7 children and it is feeling like a shoe box… OK OK… it might be a boot box, either way, it isn’t feeling huge.
I decided that I wanted to reshuffle the children, and in my mind it had to be done now; Not tomorrow, or next week… now!
WHAT an idiot I was, I must have been suffering some horrid mental condition that made me oblivious to how hard this was to be! If I had any inkling on what the task entailed I would have just sent one off to boarding school. ;)
The plan was…
Move eldest DS out of the large bedroom into the smallest one
Move middle DS out of the smallest bedroom into the largest room
Move youngest DS out from the room he shares with Miss T, and into the largest one with his brother.
SOUNDS easy, but IMO it sounds easy to keep the house clean, or get all the washing done every day… reality is generally the opposite!

1st I had to get all the stuff out of the big bedroom into the centre of the house, this gave me a false sense of achievement… wasn’t that hard, didn’t take that long.
Then I started with the bed in Mr M’s room…. NEVER EVER EVER get one of those beds with cupboards under it if you plan on moving it… 4 hours… Yes you heard right, 4 hours it took myself and one of my best friends to move it 7 meters! I haven’t seen my friend in weeks, but called her to help me with this impossible task, once I realised there was NO way I could do it alone… not sure if I’m going to win friend of the year LOL
Do you think the bed would fit through the door…? NOOOOO, if we ever build again, I want double doors on EVERY room! (That might have helped.)
We conclude we had to take the bed apart, an axe would have made it a lot quicker, and less frustrating, but we had an Alan key and screwdriver.
The screws were special ones that are easy enough to get in, virtually impossible to get out, I thought a good ‘tap’ might help and it DID come out… pity it came out from the wrong side. Yep I pulled that screw out via a smashed hole, in my defence it wasn’t ever going to come out the way it went in.
We finally got the monstrosity of a bed practically flat packed, and shuffle it to the next room, it was so heavy, I would have found it easier to change a tyre on a 4wheel drive!
We get it IN the room, feeling rather over it, and realise we have to remember how to assemble it back together. That bed is NEVER leaving this room ever…. If we move it will be sold with the house. :)
The bit I broke had to be fixed; we hunted about the house for something, anything to ‘fix’ it. Found some weird tan glue looking stuff in a big tube, and smeared that all over it, not sure it did anything, but it smelt good :)
Finally we got the bed made, and stood back to look at our craftsmanship, to realise it isn’t where I want it! It was our irritation at the bed that gave us the strength to shove it to the correct spot!
The rest of the house looked like a war zone, we had moved stuff everywhere, add to this dust… lots and lots of dust, we could of built sand castles, I have no idea where it all came from… I do clean… honest!
Of course now it was school pick up… I leave the house in an absolute mess knowing I won’t be back till 6pm, Arghhhh

Assembly dog

Went to assembly today, as Mr M’s class were hosting it, I’ve never felt so on edge and nervous at an assembly in my life!
I got there early so I could get a ‘good’ seat before all the other parents hogged them, I’m sure some parents THINK they have a seat reserved just for them… NOT true… 1st in best served IMO… I got a great seat near the wall, with Miss Z whom was starving. There is NO-WAY Z will ever be a jockey, can cross that future job off the list, not looking promising to be a ballerina either… unless it is to play a cute little elephant ;)
Back to the topic… the stressful assembly…

All the children had a part; Mr M’s part was a dog…. No words, all he had to do was walk out, across the stage at the appropriate time. I know this doesn’t sound hard, but Mr M is my child with huge anxiety issues, and he nearly refused to get out the car on arriving to school, he actually looked like he was on deaths bed… his face was red and blotchy from screaming/ crying and he had a body tremor that made him look really ill, and if he did talk he sounded like he was going to vomit.
I was the meanest most horrible nasty mother in the whole wide world and that included alien worlds we haven’t found yet! It was a safe assumption I wasn’t feeling the love.
After making him go to his classroom, telling him that he had to go to class even if he wasn’t doing the assembly, I’m proud to say he pulled it together and got dressed in his dog costume, and went to the hall.
The play was fantastic… surprisingly, (Often they are cute yes…. But not fantastic) Mr M’s part was getting closer and I honestly thought I’d either faint or burst into tears with my own anxiety on how he would go….
His part came…
Nothing… blank stage… The narrator says the cue again…
Nothing :(
Miss Z must be able to feel the tension and starts to whinge… loud, and they continue on.
I can see Mr M and his teacher in the side wings, but they continue on, about 3 minutes later they try again, and he came out!!!! He was rather fast, head down and straight to his spot… but he did it, I was/ am so proud. :)
I was also proud of the child narrating it…. How amazing that an 8 year old new to try again, and give him another chance.
After school Mr M was so proud of himself to hear him talk you would think he was the star of the show.
In my eyes he was, so he wasn’t really wrong :)

Happy half one day!

Zamirah is 6 months today… OMG where has the time gone? I don’t LOOK like I’ve slept away the 6 months. The dark rings under my eyes and the haggard look I’m sporting shows I have been awake, but it feels as though I’ve skipped it.

It feels like yesterday that I was complaining that the pregnancy was going FOREVER… WHY does a pregnancy feel an eternity, but the 1st year of our babies life passes in a blink…? NOT fair… another conspiracy to add to the list.

Miss Z obviously didn’t give a hoot about her half 1 day… she actually had a fairly terrible day, lots of crying and vomiting (Reflux) Maybe she also felt it went too fast.

I made a big effort and got a heap of photos… had all the windows wide open, so the neighbourhood could see me jumping about like a lunatic trying to get her to look happy, (oh for the light as well…)
Miss Z has an amazing talent of smiling just after I click. I got very fit, as it took a lot of clicks. I got a few nice shots in the end, but was utterly exhausted from the effort. … *Pats self on back for exercising*

We all celebrated after tea by having baby tin food banana custard, I know, ewwwww but they all wanted to celebrate, and this was the way they decided we were to do it.
I don’t think Miss S liked it much, she sounded like she was going to vomit. The other children ALL wanted her one, but she wouldn’t have a bar of it… it was hers, and she wanted it… strange girl, she will eat something that makes her dry retch when she doesn’t have to, but if I cook something, (and she hasn’t dry retched) apparently she CAN’T eat it cause she will be sick.

As always… the celebration got cut short when eldest son realised it wasn’t ALL about him…*sigh* the joys of many children :)

Miss Z eating

Are you happy?

Theses 3 words… in this order make me want to scream!
I hear them day after day…. Hour after hour…. At least once every 5 minutes… and
NO I’m NOT happy if you keep asking me this. I WAS happy - but it is wearing thin.
Can’t say that though, I must say… ‘Yes I’m happy’ *ARGH*

Youngest DS has a very high pitched, weird sounding voice, it really is like nothing I’ve ever heard before, and peoples happiness is EXTREMELY important to him… maybe more important than Diego. ;) He must know if you are happy, and if you aren’t he will keep asking with no rest,-
‘Are you happy?’
‘Are you happ-ppyy?’
‘Are you happ-pppyyy?’ It gets more screechy each time as he starts to become quiet upset about your well being.
He is unrelenting, my Mr persistent, until you give in and say yes.

So, when I next see you… DON’T ask if I’m happy….
I can’t win the battle with DS; And I hate not winning, so I may just take you asking about my happiness as an opportunity say NO… and get away with it ROFL ;) :)

Picking paint

The elder 3 children are lucky, they get their own rooms. The younger 4 are about to share, much to their disgust.
We've had to reshuffle a bit, and thought it would be a good opportunity to repaint the room that the 2 younger boys will go into.
I left the colour choice up to the older of the 2, and found he can not make a decision easily.
It has taken just over a month for him to eventually decide on the final colour…
1st he wanted black; I didn’t really want black, so told him his younger brother hated black. (It worked)… he moved onto red… Fire engine red! I know M better than he knows himself, red would freak him out. I got a red blanket and put it on the wall; he started to cry instantly… Red was out.

Now we settle on on Army green. We go to get the army green, and just as we start talking to the man…. He changes his mind….
How will he see his army men if his room is the same??… *sigh*

We make a breakthrough though and decide it WILL be green…. Just not sure what shade.

I get ALL the green paint samples in green, add a couple of blue cause I like them, each night we make a rule that it has to be halved.
Finally last night we are down to two….. The decision is made…

Marine BLUE!

(It is in the tin… bought… no changing now)

Fun Run

Who came up for the name of this activity… must have either been a super fit person, or a freak with a bizarre sense of fun.
I know I personally don’t find ANY type of running ‘fun’ let alone round and round a boring oval.

Today we had the fun run at one of the schools… my children aren’t really into the whole run for fun idea, (take after me I guess)
They CAN run if I want them to hang washing… or clean their rooms… just not for fun.

I see eldest DS limping around the kitchen. I ask what is wrong (Not clicking about the day) He tells me how he must have kicked it in his sleep because it is so painful…, he can hardly walk, let alone run.
Alarm bells start ringing, I feel I’ve forgotten something, actually I know I’ve forgotten something, I hate that feeling, and it happens at LEAST once a day.
DS then asks for a note to get out of sport, as it is SOOOO bad.
Ahhhhh… finally it dawns on me.

FUN RUN!!!

I should be happy he wanted a note, and wasn’t planning on just waging it :)
Today I just couldn’t be bothered, so against my better judgement I wrote the note.

… Fast forward to after school….

Ask how his day was, and DS is really angry, after a lot of communication I didn’t understand… (Teen talk is a LOT of guess work if you aren’t a teen)

He lost the note on the way to school and had to do the fun run ha-ha-ha

I top it off by innocently asking him…

“Was it fun?”
:)