In the night market

On Friday evening I took Little One to the Night Market held at the Deutsche Schule in Fitzroy North. It wasn't well planned out by me to be honest. I didn't see the flyer stickytaped to a pole on Nicholson St until an hour before the festivities began. Little One didn't have her nap that day so by the time we got there she was beyond feral.

The market was pretty awesome. So many amazing crafts. Like seriously, so many. And none of it shit. They also had food. I ate hamburger on a Kaiser roll with sauerkraut and potato salad for dinner (with plenty of tomato sauce) and Little One ate whatever exciting thing she came across. In this case conefuls of popcorn and gingerbread biscuits.

I desperately wanted to do some Christmas shopping but Little One wanted to stay in the playground so I sat and watched and sat and waited for her Daddy to arrive to provide relief while I got a better a look. Though I cursed myself for not taking more money with me.

It was nice to be around Germans again.  To hear that familiar accent, to understand a language. To be around the smells of food cooking that remind me of my Oma.

This was Little One's first time meeting Santa Claus. I told her to say hello and tell him what she wanted for Christmas. "Hello Santa," she said, "for Christmas I want ... a present!" she walked off then returned a few seconds later, "No, Santa, I want TWO presents." She keeps telling us she wants presents for Christmas. I ask her to be specific and she says "toys". Yes, but what kind of toys???

Then she came over to show me what she'd scored from Santa. One of many little packets of Haribo gummy bears. The kind of lollies I ate when I was a kid. Except I remember we could only get them at the continental butcher in Boronia back in the day.

A little cat printed t-shirt by WendyJune; and some wooden birds for the tree.

Princes Hill PS Bazaar and thoughts on mothering a new toddler

Fete, fair, bazaar, call it what you will, same is same. If there are kids, rides, sausage sizzles, petting zoos, homemade cake stands, bric a brac, a jumping castle etc you know you just have to stop by and have a squiz. Well, if you're like me anyway.

After yesterdays visit again to crunchy granola-y (read: boring) Collingwood Childrens' Farm followed by a walk down Johnston Street through the South American Johnston St Street Festival this was waaay cooler and more like what a fete/fair/bazaar should be. Nothing beats the ones from our childhood though before everything got outrageously PC but still, they did well.

Little One in awe.

DOC boys serving up some much needed coffee. The first thing I headed for.

Little One "needed" an icy pole she claimed. "Need" is her knew favorite word. As in, "Mummy, I need chocolate!"

Off to the Market Stalls. The first thing that caught her eye. Now taking pride of place in the downstairs living area. $12 too! How can you go wrong?

They wouldn't let her on the big kids jumping castle so she had to settle for the "babies castle". They should have just erased this sign and written "No Fun" instead. Oh well. The bigger kids had a blast on all the cool rides though.

Next: hanging out by the stage admiring the band up close.

Desperately needed some alcoholic beverages at this point. Both mine. A sparkling and a shiraz.

Me watching the spectacle that is the Little One dancing to music. And breaking in my new sandals (from Cable.)

Dancing to Beyonce's 'Crazy in Love'.

Wheeeee! Really getting into it.

The kids loved the music.

Aaaaand over it.

Petting Zoo time.

I finally was able to catch her a bunny. She desperately wanted to pat one.

So soft, so snuggly.

Such cute ducks. She'd never seen such little cuties before.

At this point this goat was looking how I was feeling. Even after a valium, two coffees, two glasses of wine and a slice of cake.

Are they not the cutest things ever?

My random obligatory "bazaar-y" purchase for the day. A $2 cushion for the TV room. Retro.

And finally my outrageous haul of ridiculously cheap $1, $2 and .50c books. Now a holiday to read them all.

It's interesting. Before I had Little One I was excited by all the fun things I could get away with doing once I had a kid. Then I had a baby and realised that it was boring as all batshit. Taking them to the park meant a few swings on the baby swing and watching them try and figure out how to climb up a slide. Then the toddler years snuck up upon us like a creep in the night. They could master the playground pretty much by now. Awesome. Means you can hang out on the park bench and catch up on your reading. But then that next (circle of hell) descends and you suddenly have this child completely separate to you with its own thoughts, feelings and desires (other than "milk" and "sleep", its own immature irrational brain function, its own levels of tiredness, irritability, coping mechanisms, excitedness. Basically this tiny little critter trying to figure the ins and outs of the world and you, as parent, are trying to reign that in while trying to avoid the eyes of judgment cast upon you.

When people give me that look ... and you know, as a parent that look, I get tetchy and remind them "she wasn't born with an effing etiquette guide."

Today I watched and saw kids in all different states of being and heightened emotion. Jubilant, happy, grumpy, miserable, stubborn, crazy, eager to please, thoughtful. Maybe they only stayed that way for 2 or 3 minutes at most before the next wave of emotion took over, but in those 2 minutes we just assume thats how they are all the time. Good, bad, happy, sad, rude, pleasant kid.

I feel like outside the realm of a kidspace such as, say, a school fete, there is a lot of pressure on parents to tip toe with their children around the other adults so as not to disturb them. This flies completely in the face of how a toddler behaves and unless you want to see a toddler belted beyond recognition, tied up, bound and gagged, there really is no way to get them to comply beyond the lies of bribery or whatever magical pixie bullshit you can pull out your ass in that particular moment.

(Always at the line in the supermarket. Always. And you get those looks. Those looooks. Many a time I've been tempted to turn around and say "are you blind or just slow? the bucket of lollipops and chocolates are at the kid's eye level placed there on purpose, you dumb smug f***." It actually restores my belief in the fact that most humans really are pretty clueless and unintelligent.)

Anyway, my matra? For when Little One doesn't act like a child model from a Bonpoint lookbook is "it's just a phase." "It's just a phase, it will pass, it will pass, it will pass." And of course, it passes. But almost always, as is the way like some fucked law of the universe, it passes in private where she transforms from a pint sized hellion to a sweet little peach, mummy and daddy's little girl who can do no wrong. Sigh.

More booze please. Thank you.

My perfect getaround "everyday" bag

 

 

I'm not a handbag girl. I would like to be. I want to be. I look at them, admire them, want to touch them, display them on my bookcase like works of $4K a piece art.

But in everyday life I am one step above "shove everything in my pockets and hope nothing falls out" girl.

So far I've been getting away with a nice little pewter WOC from Saba (at a steal!) but shits getting serious now what with phones and cards, mints, baby wipes, etc. And I hate Totes. I can't do a Tote. Too bulky, too ugh. So crossbody or messenger it is.

I've been doing a lot of window shopping on Neiman Marcus lately because I have a wedding coming up and can't get the shoes I want anywhere else so I thought I'd give 'em a go. Well, talk about fast shipping!

So I got the Michael Kors 'Hamilton' messenger bag. Michael Kors, to me, is like Guess or Roberto Cavalli (read: ghetto "fabulous") It's kinda tacky, kinda high-school-girl-tryin-a-be-luxe, but I won't lie: I love this bag. Small, but not tiny, with three little compartments.



My only complaint? I think I might need to punch an extra hole in the strap so it can hide my "after lunch" bulge.

Be your own girl

The other half seems to have no guilt, no problem with living his life however he wants. Whether that be going to the gym straight after work, fitting in an early morning pilates session, running off to cricket practice, or going to the pub to sink a few pots and lay a few bets.

Maybe it's because i'm a mother and a good mother sticks to her duties of childrearing, playing with said child, telling bedtime stories and doing everything a good mother should. A part of you fears that if you step one toe outside the line and into normal adulthood you're going to be branded Janelle from 16 and Pregnant.

Slowly, slowly am I thrusting a schedule before him and saying this is what i'm doing, this is what's happening, you'll have to cancel cricket training. But it's his own fault, he encouraged me to do so in the first place.

So what have I done of late? I went and saw Christos Tziolkas introduce to us his book Barracuda (which between sickness and work I haven't had the chance to get stuck into.) Now there is a man who can only be described as generous. Then I went and saw David Simon give a talk about inequality in American Society as part of the Festival of Dangerous Ideas. It was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Now there's a man you'd want at your dinner table. Fascinating stuff. As a big fan of The Wire (watched the series three times now) as well as The Corner and Homicide, Life on the Streets it was akin to hearing a sort of God speak.

And did I mention, Donna Tartt's latest opus came out! The Goldfinch. Ah bless. Now I just need a holiday so I can read the damn thing.

On Wednesday I'm going drinking with my girlfriends. I was looking forward to this until I discovered it may just not be hotpant weather. A damn shame. If i'm going to get drunk and messy on a dance floor it should be in hotpants.

Other than that it's all work, work, work, work, work until Christmas time when we're leaving Melbourne to go spend time with family in Sydney. I have high illusions that before we go i'll be able to organise a "Winter Wonderland" themed party for the kidliwinks but who knows. For Little One's first birthday all I managed to do was order all the necessary food from Phillippa's and make some half arsed decorations. Her 2nd birthday was even more dismal with a plain, chocolate un-iced muffin pushed into her hand as I said goodbyes and I love you's as she made the way out the door for daycare. A total Janelle move that one.

I'm almost ready for this year to be over so I can do a whole bunch of things I've been planning to do:

- A weekend away in Clunes
- Party time and a breast enlargement in Thailand
- visit Adelaide for Writers Week