A Vuly Good Backyard Makeover

Hasn’t it been the absolute weirdest year? Like so many people we have been spending more time at home, and even now with restrictions almost completely gone in WA, we are still little homebodies. It’s my socially anxious idea of heaven. Ahhh.

Staying home so much and looking at my tiny little boring, dust bowl of a backyard was a bit depressing though. It was brown and sandy with a few pot plants about the place. A little makeover was necessary.

MG ripped up all the old, very dead grass, injuring his wrist in the process. He plays a full contact sport and injured himself gardening. Top effort, mate. He had to rest it for a few weeks and then compacted the ground and laid some pavers while still in a splint - shh, don’t tell his doctor.

I chipped away old mortar from our back fence with a chisel and hammer, and spent eight hours scrubbing with acid and a wire brush before I re-pointed the fence. I’m extremely thankful for podcasts and YouTube instructional videos! Saving money and sanity one DIY tutorial at a time.

Annoying delays by the company laying the grass were sending me batty (seriously people, measure, don’t eyeball things!) but were all but forgotten though when it was finally time to set up the best trampoline for a small yard. 

She's a beauty!

We were extraordinarily lucky to be gifted a Vuly Ultra trampoline. We chose a small to fit perfectly in our little space. Even though it’s the smallest in the range it’s still big enough for two kids under 10 to play on. I fit on easily, too, able to bounce away with the shade in place since it’s 40cm taller than the nearest competitor. Yes, I jumped on it, why are you laughing? MG being over 6 foot tall hits his head on the shade if he bounces too high, so he’ll have to be a reserved jumper or take off the shade and bounce in the sunshine.

I love that the net has an envelope opening instead of a zipper that could accidentally be left open for someone to tumble through. There’s no calling out “close the flap!” and worrying someone is going to fall off. It’s also a very tight weave, meaning the kids can’t poke their fingers through. Because we all know that the second they put a finger through it becomes a larger hole and within a few days they’ll be seeing if they can fit two fingers and then a tennis ball. No chance of that happening here at all.

The kids haven’t gotten off it since it arrived. When she was absolutely exhausted from bouncing, Bobbin ran inside and reappeared with an armful of toys and a picnic set. Trampoline tea parties are the absolute best. It was a really hot day and the trampoline made the perfect setting with the shade cover over top and the breeze coming through underneath.

Physical fitness is really important for my two. They are both eyeing off new belts in martial arts soon so some extra cardio work is needed to get them through a gruelling 1.5-2 hour grading- bouncing on the trampoline provides a solid workout without the pounding of joints that running can bring. Plus it’s MUCH more fun!

Hearing that a friend has had a Vuly in their yard for eight years that looks almost new makes me think I have many, many years of sending the kids out to play ahead of me. Thank you Vuly!

Vuly Play is a leading designer of outdoor play equipment. From swing sets for kids, to monkey bars and trampolines, trust Vuly when it comes to quality and safety.

For a list of our TOP 5 Games on a Trampoline visit us at Perth School Holidays

Letter to Bobbin - seven years old

Hey there Baby Cakes,

You are waking up to $2 from the tooth fairy and another year older today. In the future when you're looking back, I think the first six months of 2020 will stand out as a pivotal part of your childhood. 

But let's go back a bit first and get a few highlights. You came first in all three of your events in the ISKA tournament, sparring, sword fighting, and sumo. There were only three competitors in each event so it was a round robin style and you won each of your bouts. On paper it makes you state champion yet again, which I will never not find hilarious. You went on to absolutely nail your green belt grading, being one of only a few who knew it all on the day and didn't need the instructors giving hints or demonstrating. You're now up to your last tip on your green and will be heading for coloured tips next - I wonder if you'll be a brown belt for Christmas? Maybe the new year? You might be grading on the mats at the same time as Tricks!

Or maybe you'll take up a new sport? You've been getting in to rollerskating and rollerblading lately, after being gifted the coolest pair of pink sequined rollerskates from our friends. You will be having your first out-of-the-house birthday party at Rollerdrome on the weekend with a few of your friends and you can show off your new Rollerblades then, too.

You attended your first official concert with us as family at the ACDC Highway To Hell Tour extravaganza along Canning Highway. It was proof that bogan pride can in fact be genetically inherited. You. Did. Not. Stop! We joined in on smashing the Guinness World Record for the most air guitarists playing along at once, so don't forget to add that to your trophy cabinet - it's an air trophy so it won't take up much room. As the trucks rolled by with each new act you were on someone’s shoulders singing at the top of your lungs with your horns up, rocking out HARD. You got SO in to it that I could see flashes of your future (it was a bit scary). I thought you might get tired or bored but you did not stop the entire night, and partied all the way home too.

You started year one and it’s been a bit hit and miss. The work is easier because your last teacher saw how much you liked to be challenged and pushed you to go far. This year the assessments for IEPs only happened half way through term two and by then you were already bored and had gone backwards, and then a lil thing called Covid happened. 

We did some awesome homeschool activities, went on mini adventures (before everyone else pulled out of school - so we had Perth to ourselves!), and played a lot. You and your brother came up with the most creative games. A favourite of mine was when your house was the swing set and his was the driveway - he came over, knocked on your door and asked if you'd like to hear about god! I guess you guys overheard me singing Book of Mormon songs.

You really quite liked isolation. You wrote letters to your friends and we delivered them on bikes. You and Tricks made rainbows on the driveway with chalk like every other kid in the world, and then spotted teddies on the 168 walks around the streets we did each week to escape the house. You found great amusement in watching your grandparents learn how to videocall, and of course, the whole Nanna throwing chocolate off her balcony to you shenanigans that I wrote about in Tricky's birthday letter.

There were many other things, but they have all been dwarfed by the death of our beautiful Sprocket. You two were inseparable from the moment he noticed you as a strange new lump of flesh in the house when you were barely 24 hours old. You are driven towards all animals, but Sprocket, although technically a family dog, was yours. You were the last of us to meet him and yet he became yours, and you his.

As his pain grew you would write him endless get well soon cards and shower him in even more attention (if that was even possible). There were a few times in the last 18months that he had been unwell and we thought it might be close, so you and I had many conversations about death and dying.

We all went to the vet to ask how much longer they thought he had, and the vet said if we were thinking of it enough for us to have all gone in together, it usually meant that the time was right. I had said we were just going to talk to the vet and then all of a sudden it was happening in a few hours - I regret it. I feel like I lied to you, even though I genuinely didn't think it was something they would just do. He was in pain, and it was the right thing to do. I'm so sorry.

You used your pocket money to buy a little yellow dog charm for Sprocket and we put it on his collar. It tinkled as he walked and you were so happy to see it there. Your favourite colour, your favourite animal on your favourite pet. We set about creating and cementing in memories in the few hours we had left with our boy. You walked him around slowly as his legs were very sore. You sat and cuddled. You shook hands. You fed him a naughty final meal, his first ever cheeseburger. You laughed. You cried. You would smile and then a sadness would wash over you as you realised these were all 'lasts' and you were about to lose your shadow. Your best friend.

We had spent many hours talking about death in the months leading up to this, so you knew what was happening... yet at the same time, you didn't. You pointed out that it was good we sat where we did because when it was time to go, the car was right there and he wouldn't have far to walk on his sore legs... but he wasn't coming home, my love.

You patted and snuggled him gently as he drifted off to sleep and you told him how much you loved him. When his heart stopped you climbed on top of him, sobbing, leaving tear stains on his fur.

After a while you sat up and started shaking his head, slowly at first then more insistent, as if trying to wake him. You jiggled his legs; checked his eyelids; lifted his face to yours and examined him. When he didn't respond, you climbed back on top of him, wrapping your arms and legs all the way around and would not move.

Dad and Tricks left, and it was you, your Perth Pop and I still there for a while; stroking his soft fur and trying to commit everything about his physicality to memory. After half an hour it was time to go. As long as I live I will never forget how tightly you held on to him. As soon as I'd get one arm off you'd cling back on, not wanting to leave your best friend behind. I had to physically pry you from him as you wailed. With your legs wrapped around my waist and your arms reaching over me for him, you screamed for him as we left the room.

In the car park you had what I can only describe as a panic attack. You were clawing at your throat and gasping that you couldn't breathe. I held on to you and cried with you, sheltering you from some of the comments being made by another person there.  I showed you a photo of Sprocket on my phone and you calmed. In the tiniest voice you sang "Sprocky Sprocky ding ding". It was barely audible. Over and over again you sang it. You didn't say much else other than some yes and no answers; it felt like the only way you could communicate right then, so I just sung it back to you.

You created a shrine with pictures, cards and letters, all saying how much you love him and wish he would come back. Every single craft item you made was a dog. Every game you made up was about dogs. You made him from cardboard and brought him back to life in endless puppet shows. You made him from stacked kick shields and attached his lead. You wore his collar for weeks afterwards, sometimes even on outings, the little yellow dog charm you'd bought him tinkling as you walked. And you kept singing your soft, mournful Sprocky Sprocky ding ding song.

When his ashes arrived home you placed his collar around them and would not let them out of your sight. You fell asleep hugging them many nights and I still find them in your room sometimes. To this day he features in all your art work. You have asked me if you'll ever forget him and I can't imagine you ever will. You have a bond that not even death can break, my love. You carry him in your heart at every moment and I think you always will. Your heart has a dog-shaped hole in it, and you really want it to be filled. One day, baby girl. I promise.

You are smart and sassy, and much more sensitive than you make yourself out to be. You are as loud as can be and go one million miles an hour. You can’t stop talking, can’t sit still, and are distracted by anything and everything, particularly your own reflection! You make the silliest faces and half of our photos of you are so ridiculous it’s fantastic. You astound us daily with your vocabulary and understanding of the world around you. You are strong and resilient in the face of complicated medical issues that cause you to be in pain every day. You are confident and headstrong, kind natured and laugh-out-loud funny. You push all of my buttons and you make the world a better place. Happy seventh birthday, my pocket rocket missy moo.

Love Mum x

P.S. You're probably wearing glasses or contact lenses right now when you're reading this because with your genetics it's practically a given. They're annoying, right? I need you to know you chucked a little tanty the other week when you had an eye test and got 20/20 vision. You have worn fake glasses on and off  for years to do important work and reading, and lately you've been wearing them as much as you can. You were so envious that Tricks was getting some and you weren't!

Letter to Bobbin - six years old

Hey Smalls,

Another year around the sun! You are six years old today. Another year stronger, smarter and taller.

It's been an up and down year for you (but that's usually the way for everyone, so that's ok).

You have developed a perfectionist streak. Your mother's daughter, hey? You are very focused on doing everything right and getting upset when you spell words wrong. I adore phonetic spelling, it shows that you understand sounds and we can all figure out what you mean - plus English is a stupid language where cough, through, plough, though and hiccough don't rhyme. So we've all been working on making it OK to make mistakes. I mean, you're on an IEP (Individual Education Plan) (yeah, your mama just used her blog to brag a bit then) along with a few others in your class because you're streaks ahead of where you should be for your age. You're reading proper books and you're not even in year one, mate. You're nailing it, kiddo, we just have to always remind ourselves that we don't have to be perfect.

Martial arts has been both amazing and scary for you. You're a blue belt and very close to green. You got a black tip in class today and now you only need your red tip to graduate. It would be very tricky to get that in the next two weeks, so you'll probably grade in December. Your pushups are killer - knuckles and toes, and you're very proud of the six pack that is starting to develop. You want to be strong and you are, always volunteering to lift things (including your friends).

You participated in the ISKA tournament (International Sport Karate Association) twice. The first time you took home a first in sword fighting making you the state champion for your age group... there were only two of you in the category but it sounds good! You ended up with two trophies at that one. Then the next tournament you got first in sword fighting again - defending your title! Again, only two people in your category but back to back state champion sounds better haha! You ended up with five placings over those two tournaments and proudly stood for photos with your trophies and medals.

Earlier this year, just after Mum was having a hard time with her brain misbehaving, you got very scared of going on the mats at the dojo. You didn't want to perform your kata in front of the group and the parents. It terrified you. No amount of convincing you that it was just like the tournaments would placate you. You would get on the mats and be fine until the end when you had to perform. You refused to get up. This transitioned to refusing to get on the mats and the beginning of class. You cried a lot. It took instructors, Sempais, Senseis and even a Renshi to get you on the mats. It was the same every time for almost two whole months, refusing to get on the mats. You even hated in the in-house tournament and took a lot of convincing to get on. You did, and I was so proud of you. You didn't place, but you did your absolute best that you could on the day, and that's why I was so proud.

The struggles continued at the beginning of class, but once you were on the mats, you were completely fine and would smash out the session, trying so hard and nailing it. And you even filmed a pep talk to yourself after one lesson because you would come off the mats beaming. I started filming and it was like you were a TV presenter - straight in to it! I laughed so hard. If I'm honest, I think the tears became a habit for you. You worked hard with your instructors and you got through it. You're back on the mats now without issue... but you don't want to do the next ISKA tournament in a few weeks. And that's OK. Life can be tough and we don't always have to win... we don't even have to enter!

You continue to exert your independence. So much so that one day earlier this year you decided to walk to school. By yourself. You usually wait at the bottom of the bridge for me when we walk, but you didn't this time. You kept going. The thing is, I didn't know which way you'd gone. I looked everywhere for you. Up and down the small streets, and then the bigger street. I was so afraid I'd find you squished by a car as sometimes when you're excited you forget to look both ways. We did finally find you. One kilometre away. In your classroom. By then I was crying and you didn't know what the fuss was about, but when you saw my tears you cried too, giving me the biggest of hugs and promising you wouldn't do it again.

You love to make your own food. Whether it's sandwiches, wraps or just cutting up fruit, you insist on doing it yourself. Up until recently you were scared of being burnt on the frying pan, but you got past it and flipped your own pikelets - the look on your face when you did it was just brilliant. You were unbelievably proud. I admit to still worrying that you'll slice your hand open, but so far so good.

Crafting absolutely anything is your go-to activity. Give you paper, scissors and sticky tape (lord, so much sticky tape!) and you are happy. In fact, you got sticky tape as a birthday present and you were SO HAPPY! You make me the most random creations and they are divine. Giant posters with bits stuck on. 3D castles with entire packets of stickers over them. Then you head outside, jump about playing "Jumanji", zoom up and down the street on your bike, climb the nearest tree, flip up and down on monkeybars, and climb on the roof of any playground structure, terrifying other parents watching. I just shrug and know you'll get down safe because climbing is what you do.

Your obsession with all creatures great and small continues. You've gone off your original Spiny Leaf Insects (they are apparently too spiny to touch now so you don't), but you don't mind their babies that are small. Other than those, you pick up or pat everything you can. Catching frogs is your favourite thing to do so sometimes we go down to the local lake at night with our headlamps on and see how many we can find. You are quick at catching them, hold them for a moment then release them, usually after naming them.

You are bloody funny. You make me laugh so much with your weird antics. Whether it's quick retorts with the beginnings of sarcasm (that's my girl), a raised eyebrow, or a silly story, your sense of humour is developing rapidly. The fart jokes are still popular, as is you introducing your farts. As in you say "Here comes Frank" and then you fart loudly and laugh your head off. It's a different name every time.

That Queen Bee tendency is still there, but you have such an empathetic soul that it has balanced out to a nice assertive quality. You like to get what you want, but you also take care of your friends. And I'm not gonna lie, that's been a weight off my shoulders. Not to say you can't be a little turd sometimes when you don't get your way, but you're not mean. PHEW!

You care deeply for your family, and you express it bringing flowers, cards and any trinkets you've found as gifts. You are thoughtful, and always share willingly with Tricky, even halving your own things with him (y'all fight a lot, too, it's not all rainbows). When I was bed-bound after my ankle surgery you would come and check on me, give me a cuddle each time you walked past, and bring me food just because you were hungry and thought I might be, too.

I was trying to explain Harmony Day to you, and how racism exists and I did a really poor job of it... so for a moment there you thought it was a day to exclude your friends according to their skin colour. You were very upset at me, saying you didn't want to not talk to your friends that day because they were darker than you. A quick explanation later and you were so relieved- and I could not have been happier.  Every day we talk about what's important, and you always reply "it doesn't matter what you look like or what you do, as long as you're kind". Because we've repeated it to you daily and it's a Pavlovian response now! Ha! I hope that stays with you. Both for how you treat others and how you treat yourself.

I hope you have a brilliant year of being six, my chickadee. I promise you'll have your mermaid party soon, when I'm back walking properly. Your sass is still there, just sometimes hidden under a thin layer of self-doubt. We'll keep working on that. You'll make some amazing mistakes this year, and over your whole life, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Love Mama x

Letter to Bobbin - five years old

My little Bobbin,

You are FIVE. A whole hand. Wowzers.

It has been quite a year for you, m'dear. You are still the most strong willed, persistent and independent kid I've ever met. Your tenacity challenges me daily, and yet I wouldn't have you any other way.

If there is a something that can be climbed, you're right at the top... and if there is something that shouldn't be climbed, well, you're right at the top then, too. You are most at home hanging, swinging, climbing, and generally being a daredevil. Which came in handy when Tricky left his scooter at school one weekend and you climbed over the fence to get it for us. Your first felony, at only four. Oh dear.

A few months ago you learned to ride your bike without training wheels after begging me for ages to take them off. You'd always leaned over on them quite a bit, so I wondered how you'd go... but I needn't have worried because you just zoomed off. Stopping took a bit of extra practise though. Then when that was mastered twenty minutes later you were off down the ramps, up the kerbs, and pretended to run me over. Such a sweetheart you are.

You have being doing martial arts for a year now, and as of today you can officially join junior white belts... except you joined eight months ago because you found the Ninja Ru class a bit boring and wanted more. So you're an orange belt! The youngest in the class. You zoomed through white and yellow, but you're realising that orange is a bit more hard core and are having to put in more effort. You've been doing shoulder throws and usually once a week I hope you don't use it at school. It will be a great skill to have for the career you STILL want, nearly 18 months after first mentioning it - police officer.

You're in kindy! Hooray! You love it so much and have made some lovely friends. You go five days a fortnight and have been learning letters and spelling small words, and each day you demand we play the alphabet game and that I give you addition and subtraction sums. We are working hard on that Queen Bee streak in you, making sure you don't become Regina George of your school! You are trying so hard, and have a strong sense of justice, but you do not suffer fools gladly. If you are bored with what is being taught or what one of the kids is talking about you show it - but tact is learned, and you'll get there.

You are obsessed with animals. All animals, but especially dogs. Sprocket is your best friend and he knows who to come to for extra cuddles if he needs them. You will make a bee line to anything furry and smother it with affection, the world gentle is said many a time, because you are so full of love for them. Smooching and cuddling whichever poor unsuspecting pet is nearby. You adore bugs and will pick up any creepy crawly you come across after checking it won't hurt you. We have had a play with a friend's Spiny Leaf Insects a few times and you got two for your birthday today! You were SO excited and have got them out of their enclosure to crawl all over you countless times today.

Because of your love for dogs, your birthday party today was a Puppy Pawty, where each guest made a stuffed toy dog - you and stuffed toys, oh boy, you can't get enough. We made collars for pups, weighed and measured them for their birth certificates, and enjoyed a game of Pin The Tail On The Puppy, and Pass The Parcel before delving in to Pup Corn, Pawtato Chips, Pup-eroni Pizza, Hot Dogs, and a bloody amazing Puppy cake (if I do say so myself!). We could only invite a few people (budget!), but you declared it the best birthday party ever and even talked about it in your sleep when I went to tuck you in just now.

You love to make people feel better, and the way you know how to do that is to make them a card. If anyone is upset you RUN to the craft trolley and start feverishly writing a card for them (usually with drawing of you and the person, hearts and the first letter of their name). You even wrote one for Sprocket when he hurt his leg, and laid with him to show him... you cried at the thought of Sprocket being unwell and laid with him, crying big, fat, silent tears on to his fur.

You nudge at boundaries at every opportunity. Never usually a hard push, just a little test nudge, to see what will happen. You're like the Raptor testing the fences! You are so determined, often singing "just keep trying" to yourself when you fail, so I admit to loving it when you nudge those boundaries.

Keep pushing, my pocket rocket, because those boundaries will be glass ceilings one day, and you'll have all the know how and experience to shatter them.

Love Mama x

Bobbin is starting school and yes I'm ready

This post contains a product I was sent for review

It's January, and that means parents all over Australia are counting down the days until the new school year starts.

I've been asked quite a few times if Bobbin will be in year one this year, but I have let them know she won't be in year one until 2020! She seems a lot older than she is because she's confident, headstrong, and has a vocabulary that surprises us all (like when she drops the F bomb - that is really a shock to the system). She is a typical second child, ticking a heap of stereotype boxes.

This year she is heading to kindergarten five days per fortnight. Unrelated: did you know that Americans don't use the word fortnight? Bizarre! But I digress.

Day care drop off and pre-kindy drop off were traumatic events for her, right up until the last few sessions last year (where bribery may or may not have featured), so I am filled with trepidation wondering what it will be like now. Tears? Refusal to let go of my hand? Will she almost dislocate my finger like she did once when they had to peel her off me at day care? Will she be THAT kid? Will I need a shoe horn and a valium? And who gets the valium if there is only one? 

Her kindy classroom moved location during the holidays (it was down the road from Tricky's school but will now be on campus), which meant that there was no orientation day. The poor suckers are being thrown in at the deep end!

In typical second child fashion, Bobbin already knows her way around the school, so I don't think the lack of orientation day will have much of an impact on her. More like the lack of mum being by her side.

The new location means the existing fences have to be heightened to comply with state regulations. When the principal mentioned it at a P&C meeting he said it was because the kindy kids can't climb over the higher fences, looked right at me and said "Don't think they'll stop Bobbin, though!". They already know her so well, ha! Perhaps they need a Bobbin readiness program?

To make it as painless as possible on her (and me) we've been doing lots of "big kindy girl" preparation like writing her name, choosing school shoes, selecting a gorgeous unicorn school bag, water bottle and lunch cooler from Crocodile Creek, putting on her uniform that almost reaches her ankles, and practising school lunch times! It is the cutest thing ever.

She adores unicorns and I'm happy that it's all BPA and phthalate free, the bottle is impact resistant (we have gone through so many of the cheapies grrr!), and the backpack has reinforced pockets and zips that are hard wearing. Plus it isn't a ridiculous size that will dwarf her (unlike her uniform).

She is as ready as she'll ever be, and I'm ready, too. 

I don't think there will be tears on my part as I don't usually cry at these times. I'll cry watching a movie, if I'm angry or if I burn dinner - you know, things that don't matter. But I rarely cry over milestones. Having said that, this is my last babe. The last "first day of school". Oh god, I'm crying already. Where's that valium?

Letter to Bobbin - four years old

Hey Bobbin,

Or is it Princess Unicorn Icecream Eyes? Because you've been requesting that I call you that quite a lot lately. You became utterly obsessed with unicorns when we saw a mini unicorn pinata in Kmart months and months ago. It all started there and of course it meant it was the theme for your birthday party today.

We have been counting down the sleeps to this day and you've been telling everyone "It's my birthday tomorrow. Not tomorrow, but tomoooorow." which is how you say anywhere between two and six days. The longer the sound, the longer the time.

You have spent the last year doing weekly kindergym sessions and you are pretty damn good at it. You climb and swing off everything in sight so it was a given, really. But now we've had to move on because you are so bendy that it isn't good for you. People think I'm bendy, then they look at you and their eyes widen. It's tough for you not to overextend, so gymnastics is out, I'm afraid.

But it's OK, because you've joined martial arts! You're a Ninja Ru now, and the fourth and final member of this family to join the dojo. The family that kicks together, sticks together. You're still unsure about it and quite nervous, which really surprised us because you are usually little miss confident. You know all the staff from spending countless hours watching your brother, and yet you were still nervous. It was nice to see, because we were starting to think you'd jump out of a plane without a parachute because you don't seem to be afraid of anything usually.

This confidence will help your chosen career, which for months and months now has been "a police officer who lives here with you". It's never just a police officer. You always add the last bit. So apparently you are never moving out of home. Um, yeah. Let's talk about that when you're older.

I love listening to your little games. You play with all sorts of toys but you centre them around the dollhouse and in my She-Ra's Castle that you have inherited. Sometimes the baby will get picked up by the giant Pokemon, and Wonder Woman will come home from school to pat the pet tiger, and go for a drive in her Monster Truck. The LEGO friends girls are a fave of yours, and you got your very first set today which you built yourself (when Dad and Tricky helped with the instructions).

You are desperate to start kindy next year and are getting so good at writing your name. You're quite flexible with the order the letters go in though! Remix version, perhaps? I wonder how you will go because not long after you turned three, you started screaming and crying whenever I left you at daycare or at pre-kindy. We're talking wrapping yourself around my leg and needing two adults to remove you as you screamed "ONE MORE KISS! ONE MORE HIGH FIVE! MUUUUUM!". You LOVE going and settle in only a few minutes after I leave, but that drop off breaks my heart, and it breaks yours, too. We'll keep practising, munchkin.

You are Queen Bee in most situations and always seem to end up with random children joining in your games and doing everything you say. I can only hope you use this power for good and not evil. I really love watching you negotiate with other Queen Bees, though. Some clashes, some compromise. You are very headstrong, and you are learning to give and take in these situations more and more every day. It's particularly nice when I can be chatting to the other mama and we can watch you both and see this intense relationship tango happening before our eyes.

As we head out of the Threenager and in to the Fantastic Fours (Frustrating Fours?) I wonder what will be in store for you? What will be the next thing that Bobbin conquers?

Have a fantastic year, kiddo,

Love Mama x

Alice in Wonderland birthday party on a budget

I am a sucker for a themed birthday party. There is just something about everything coordinating that makes my obsessive compulsive brain sigh with happiness. But it doesn't have to cost the earth, especially if you make the food part of your decorations and use things from around the house.

I chose the theme of Alice in Wonderland for one reason: Bobbin received a little Alice costume from her Aunty Kitty for Christmas. I couldn't resist.

First things first we had to show Bobbin the movie to make sure she actually liked it, and PHEW! she did because otherwise we'd be screwed. So what is a themed party without a themed invite? On to PicMonkey I went with a couple freesource Alice images and the text from a page out of the book and voila!

Then it was on to sourcing all things Alice to decorate on a budget. I was after a whimsical feel, wanting the guests to feel like they had stepped in to Wonderland for the afternoon.

Off to the Op Shop I went to grab some adorable little tea cups. I bought one set of four for $3.00 and a single tea cup for $2.00 from one shop but then at the next shop I loved another set of four so I grabbed that too, for $3.20. It meant I had extra in case of breakages - these are three year olds remember! - and because it was from an Op Shop, the money was going to a good cause. The girls thought it was the best thing ever to have real tea cups filled from a real tea pot!

I headed to Kmart (of course) and grabbed some small metal flamingos for $1 each that are technically garden decorations, but I thought they'd be perfect - remember the croquet scene? The plants, bunnies, and serving trays were things I had around the house. Who doesn't have ceramic bunnies around the house?

The most expensive part of Operation Alice was spray painting the IKEA Mammut stools to look like toadstools. It wasn't a necessity, but I've been meaning to do it since we got them from a swap meet a few years ago. Plus the table, which I got from kerbside rubbish last month, was old and faded and really needed a spray.

I used the Rust-Oleum 2X Ultra Cover in gloss white and gloss Apple Red at $11.95 each from Bunnings which go on to plastic really well. I coated each chair with white first, then cut out and placed randomly shaped blobs of cardboard on to the top before spraying over with one coat of Apple Red. They didn't turn out perfectly because I was a bit short on time, but they looked good enough for me, and cemented the Wonderland feel.

I decided to put the party in to Bobbin's bedroom rather than a corner of the back yard because the decorations all close together are so much more effective. I grabbed a two pack of cards from the local cheap things shop for $2.50 and pulled out some old fishing line from the craft drawer to make card bunting to hang from her ceiling. I made four strands with 20 cards on each, and hung them from the corners of the room to the fan in the centre. It looked so good!

On the window sill I placed three black photo frames with Alice in Wonderland silhouettes I'd printed out as a gift for Aunty Kitty last year... yep, she loaned them back to us when she found out the party theme! Plus she let us borrow a movie poster and a little Alice book we placed on the food table.

To add a bit of cheer to the walls I made some "rose bushes" out of cardboard, and adorned them with crepe paper "roses". There were three with red roses and one with white roses, and as soon as Bobbin saw them she started sing "We're painting the roses red". Winning! She got the reference! 

We brought in the Queen Anne dresser to be the food table, as is usual for parties around here. I saw it on the side of the road a few years ago and it was in such amazing condition I thought it couldn't possibly be out for the taking, so I knocked on the door and the man said it was! His daughter had long ago grown up and moved out and he was clearing out all her old stuff. He even helped me load it in the car. I got it home, painted it up and put some new handles on it with the help of my Aunty, and it's been a great piece ever since.

I covered the table in the playing cards left over from the bunting, and little quotes from the book/movie I'd made using PicMonkey and printed out including "we're all mad here", "six impossible things before breakfast", "curiouser and curiouser", "this watch is exactly two days slow", and of course, "eat me"! It was a food table after all.

I cut some flowers from a gigantic straggly bush on the side of the road, then covered the dresser with them. Stuffing them in the drawers and some on top for good measure, plus I pulled out some empty jars for vases and had them all around the room. It made such an impact and cost nothing. 

I ordered the "Eat Me" cake topper from eBay for a few dollars and it took five weeks to arrive - ordering early is key for online purchases! I added some paper bunting to the top of the cake, too, which I grabbed at Target for around $3. The cake itself was three Woolworths mud cakes ($4 each) that I levelled out and stacked together. The icing went all wrong - too thick at first and then I thinned it down. Big mistake. HUGE. It was then too runny and I didn't have any more icing sugar to thicken it. Not gonna lie, I cried a bit.

For party food I used a white bread plate and a borrowed three tier serving tray. I served fairy bread (duh), cupcakes with rainbow icing (because at 2am I couldn't sleep and figured I would try something new) and Dr Oetker rice paper butterflies (from Woolworths $2.50 for a pack of 12), two punnets of strawberries, a punnet of blueberries, and a few Tic Toc bikkies because they suited the Alice theme so well! 

We only had two activities for our tea party guests; we decorated some plain biscuits with Dr Oetker glitter icing pens, sprinkles, mini M&Ms and little jubes; and pass the parcel. If you've ever played with three year olds, is a lot of effort ensuring everyone is actually passing said parcel and not ripping it open the second they get their hands on it. Each layer had a mini icecream eraser that they loved and only cost $1 for the whole packet. The rest of the time the girls were free to just play with toys and have a tea party.

Each guest got a take home goodie bag with their name pegged on to it (photo at the top with the tea cups). They contained a sheet of stickers, a Freddo frog, a pack of sultanas and a little necklace with a tiny metal key or mushroom and vial saying "Drink Me" or "Eat Me". Another eBay find for $1.80 each!

It was such a lovely tea party, and I adored the way the room came together. So much so it is still set up nearly a week later! We have had a mini tea party in there every day since because who can resist the pull of those toadstools and a room bursting with flowers?

The Mallen Child

Mallen Streak: A decrease or absence of melanin in hair (poliosis), particularly in one area, giving rise to a "Mallen Streak".

Child: A person between birth and full growth; a boy or girl.

Mallen Child: A person between birth and full growth who, through their shenanigans, cause their caregiver to go prematurely grey.

I have this child. She's amazing. When people ask me what she's like, I say she's full on but a lot fun. A handful, but good value. Because she is.

She is feisty. Smart. Strong willed. Adventurous. A leader, and completely and utterly fearless.

Which translates to her being a skilled talker, which I can handle and find advantageous (except when she is arguing with me), and a climber with skills waaaaay above her years... which I cannot.

She is my Mallen Child. She is sending me grey with worry and stress. No seriously. I have a streak of grey hair - a Mallen Streak, on the left side of my head.

I *thought* I had a climber when Tricks was little. Ha. HA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! How wrong I was. Because Bobbin has taught me what a true climber is.

She flies to the top of play equipment in seconds, and has done since she was about 18 months old. She sees a play house and within the blink of an eye, she's somehow on the roof of it. That window ledge? No problem, up she gets without anything to help her reach. She'll be sitting on a bookshelf if you stop paying attention. The middle trapeze on the swing set? Climbs up the edge and shimmies across. Then half the time she jumps down - from things two and three times her height. My heart is in my mouth the entire time, but if you try to help you're met with screams of "I do it myself!". So she does. And I get greyer and greyer.

Then the other day, when I thought I'd seen it all, I was schooled in what a Mallen Child really is.

I was on the toilet, no doubt luxuriating in the fact that neither child had followed me in, when Tricky called out to me.

"Mum, Bobbin did a wee on the car"

What? On the car? He must be mistaken. Not that she'd done a wee, because my previously 95% toilet trained toddler has decided that she no longer wants to be toilet trained and is back to weeing everywhere (but that's another story, and another Mallen Streak). Maybe he meant a toy car? A dinky car? A remote control car that would now be sodden and not working? My brain rattled off the scenarios as I made my way outside to where they'd been playing before I'd answered nature's call.

And there she was...

ON THE FUCKING ROOF OF THE FUCKING CAR!!!

She'd stripped off, climbed on to the bonnet, done a wee, then climbed up the windscreen on to the roof of the car. Where she was pretending to be a puppy dog, wagging her knicker-less bottom around and woofing.

Kill me.

As I moved toward her, she'd move closer the edge. She was out of reach despite standing on tip toes with my hand outstretched to her the whole time. If I backed away, she'd settle in the middle of the roof, somewhat safer. The only thing to do was to talk her down. We were like a police negotiator and a tiny terrorist.

Not thinking anyone would believe me, I turned my phone on to record and shoved it in my top. It recorded me talking her down for two minutes. Not a long time... unless your butt naked child is on the roof of a car, in which case it might has well have been five fucking hours.

Send help.

Now a Mallen Child is not a bad thing. If I was trying to make this a bad thing I wouldn't have given it such a cool name. Mallen Streaks are kinda cool... think Rogue from X Men, Anna from Frozen, Lily from The Munsters, and Sweeney Todd from the Demon Barber of Fleet Street... OK maybe not the last one.

But on the whole, the Mallen Child is like the Mallen Streak: funky and a little badass in the best way possible. People dye chunks of their hair different colours to replicate the look, so it must be cool (says the woman who does this). My own real Mallen Streak wasn't discovered initially because I cover my false Mallen Streaks with whichever colour happens to float my boat that month. I was unknowingly covering the grey with pinks, purples and blues. It wasn't until the blonde started to grow out that this streak of silver was visible.

So I'm embracing my Mallen Streak, and I'm embracing my Mallen Child... because if I hold her tight enough, maybe she won't climb anything else and move on to being the Heart Attack Child.

Do you have a Mallen Child?

Best Santa Photos in Perth

Not sponsored

I'm a sucker for a Santa photo, and I think I've found the best in Perth!

There are a bajillion Santas around and not all are cut from the same plush, red velvet. 

As far as I'm concerned, to make the best Santa photo in Perth you need a winning trifecta:

1. Santa must have a REAL beard! This is non negotiable despite some very fancy fake beards getting around. A real smile is also preferred but I will accept a fake smile if the beard is legit. A lovely backdrop is also a bonus, but I will always peg genuine white whiskers above all else. 

Would you look at those whiskers!
Copyright Penny Butler Photography - used with permission

2. Allocated times. I did not understand the joy or appreciate the value that is booking for Santa photos until Bobbin the Explorer came in to our lives. I could not line up forever with this feisty femme and expect her to then smile sweetly at the camera - she'd be climbing the sleigh, finding out if Rudolph was a boy or girl (and proclaiming LOUDLY that it didn't have a penis so it must be a girl), and generally getting up to marvellous mischief. Which is all fabulous and entertaining except every other kid is doing the same thing and the frazzled mothers are scrounging in handbags for anything to bring some peace; snacks, toys, valium, you name it. 

Knowing that when we arrive, we have a few minutes wait at most takes so much pressure off and also means that there is less time for the kids to spill tomato sauce down their fronts. Plus with a 15 minute window there is no rush to get in, smile, get out while the next bored toddler tries to photobomb. It's SO much more relaxed and, shock, horror, is actually quite fun!

3. A real photographer. Once the realm of the rich and famous, now everyone can get a sweet deal with a real photographer. The best part is that they take a heap of photos and choose the best as opposed to five rushed jobs for you to choose from at a shopping centre where you sometimes have to pick the least bad - which I admit is better than back in the day when you got the instant photo with no choice at all! 

As an added bonus, a real photographer can touch up the pictures if you need, so if, for example, your two year old rubbed her face in the lawn and came up with a tiny little rash on her cheeks and forehead the morning of the photos, well, they could be touched up slightly. ASK ME HOW I KNOW! 

My mate Penny from Penny Butler Photography does Santa photos for the people of Perth every year and she ticks all three boxes with her awesome set up. 

Santa not only has a real beard, but he's SO good with the kids and his suit? Holy Nutcracker, it was divine! Beautiful embroidery which on closer inspection had reindeer, angels and snowflakes amongst the filigree. 

His set up is in his little work shed with his sleigh this year - which he built himself, and even has a letter box that you can pop your wish list in to - if you put your address in there, he'll write back. Tricky drew him a picture and asked him how old he was... Santa answered but we have been sworn to secrecy. 

Santa is very hands on, doesn't make the elves do everything
Copyright Penny Butler Photography - used with permission

To make it even more magical, the whole thing is at the Christmas Tree Farm in Mariginiup (north in the City of Wanneroo), and there are families wandering around choosing their tree, Christmas carols on the loudspeaker, and a real sense of excitement hangs in the air. The Christmas Tree Farm is where Santa hangs out when he's in Perth - a holiday house if you will. Can't be stuck at the North Pole all year. 

The man never stops, even on holiday he's in the Christmas spirit
Copyright Penny Butler Photography - used with permission

Penny knew I loved the funny photos she'd taken for another family last year, so after she'd snapped the usual ones she got the kids to ham it up. It's my favourite photo and is now our Christmas card! 

Considering I've spent $70 in the past for a handful of randomly sized prints in a rush job with a crappy Santa, I was more than happy to pay the $60 for these and support a small business rather than a giant multinational.

For your money you get 15 minutes with Santa (my two had about 5 minutes and then buggered off!), 4-5 digital images that you can then print yourself or email out, and a reply from Santa if you post your letter in the special mail box on the day. 

There are still some spots available so contact Penny at Penny Butler Photography for bookings.

Letter to Bobbin - two years

I've taken your photo with this doll since you were born

Happy birthday, my amazing girl!

It has been two whole years since you made your entrance earthside in a gentle waterbirth, which to this day still gives me tingles when I think about it.

And you are just like your birth; you are joyful, hard work, beautiful, frustrating, gentle and simply wonderful. Oh, and also a bit of a pain in the ass! Heh.

You've not had the best run, health wise, in these last few months. You are such a robust chick that we were all surprised you needed two weeks in hospital with pneumonia! But while you were there you charmed the nurses by singing renditions of 'Shake it off', and made friends with the other kids. Then you got chicken pox from somewhere, although it didn't really phase you at all. A few spots on both your hands was all that showed up, and you were slightly grumpier than usual. You loved having your big brother home to play with while you were both quarantined, so all up, it was quite a nice time.

You're seeing the doctors at the childrens' hospital at the moment because your guts are funny. But don't panic, your brother had a funky head and he turned out fine. They are investigating you for Hirschsprung's disease, but if you have it, I think it's a pretty mild case.

You are the most verbose toddler I have ever met. Which has helped immensely when you were unwell because you could tell us what hurt and how much. You talk and sing non stop, and I adore hearing you make up little scenes with your toys. The funny little things that I want to remember are how when you drop food you'll say "Sprocky will eat it" if we're home or "ahhh, leave it for the birds" if we're out. The last few weeks you've been declaring that everything you have you "got it my birthday" - be it a toy, food, socks, anything!

For your actual birthday you are getting a walking pig, a Cabbage Patch doll (mainly because I always wanted one), and a Duplo set. You continue to be really eclectic in your tastes and will often leave the house with "baby" and a motorbike toy or monster truck. You love to dress up as superheroes and swoosh around with a cape, but refuse to wear shoes or pants every other day, randomly undressing whenever you feel like it. Including in the middle of shopping centres. You tend to leave your 'Elsa shoes' on a bit more often, so they're in high rotation right now which is ace because I think they're awesome. Blue sparkles, what's not to love?

You like dropping Tricky off at school and would love nothing more than to be able to stay there and play with the others. His friends swarm around you, and you relish the attention. You were allowed to stay when I was parent helper recently and you thought it was brilliant. You go to playgroup once a week and love spending time with the other kids. You and your little bestie are so cute together - you both have older brothers and are quite similar, so you get along really well.

You're rough, robust, caring, funny and fearless - you climb things at the park that some kids twice your age don't attempt. We step back and let you do it, just spotting you on new things, or we'll be met with screams of "I DO MYSELF!". If you fall and I offer you a hug or for it to be kissed better, you declare "No, I alright". So independent. So tough.

I'm not sure if it's the way you play, your immense vocab, or your general understanding of the world, but you seem so much older than you are. You're already in a big girl bed, and you took it in your stride like a champion. I've always said your brother was an old soul and you were a brand new one - that intense wonder and amazement at the world, the way you just want to get out and experience everything. Maybe that's it? Whatever it is, I feel like you're turning three or four today, and not two. But there you are, my teeny two year old.

You are a mighty girl and I'm so proud of you.

Thank you for being you.

Love Mama xxx

Gratefulness Vs Discharge guilt

I've been having a rough time of late.

There. I said it.

Um, there was supposed to be a massive weight lifted off my shoulders when I admitted it, wasn't there? Yet here I am, struggling to stand upright under the pressure. The pressure of what, I'm not entirely sure. Motherhood? Life? My white, middle class privilege?

I can pinpoint exactly where it all started. It was in Princess Margaret Hospital with Bobbin and Tricky.

Hospital is never a nice place to be, particularly a childrens' hospital. While it makes the kids better, it seems to simultaneously suck the life out of the parents and school them in how to count your blessings.

We were there for two weeks, which in the scheme of things is such a short time. For an otherwise healthy kid, though, two weeks is forever to be requiring oxygen. Every day they'd come and check her and say "maybe tomorrow", and every day we moved further past our 'estimated date of discharge' written on Bobbin's name board.

It was only on the eleventh day that they decided to refer us to the respiratory team after I'd begged for days to let us go home with an oxygen tank, just so we could get out there. The respiratory doctor came in and took charge, she made a plan of action to start antibiotics for atypical pneumonia, a blood test to confirm, and had a back up plan of a chest CT and bronchioscope if the meds didn't start working (there was a thought that Bobbin had perhaps aspirated some food in to her lungs).

 

The improvement was noticeable that afternoon and within 24 hours she was able to come off oxygen for the first time in twelve days and we could go home after two weeks. The original medical team came in and APOLOGIZED for not referring us sooner. I couldn't believe it. But it's my child, so of course she was atypical. She even had an atypical presentation of atypical (mycoplasma) pneumonia. No wonder the med team missed it.

So off we went home, and that should have been that. Apart from a residual cough, everything was fine for Bobbin.

But it didn't stop there for me. I can't stop thinking of the other families; the other kids.

Like the gorgeous boy who made Bobbin light up every time he whizzed in to the room on his bright red wheelchair (which was a lot!), who had been in for six months. He was so fun. They played monster trucks together and when Tricky visited, the boys would go off to the play room together for a while. It was a bit confusing for him when Tricky was admitted, but he just saw it as an opportunity to spend more time with fellow car aficionados. Ejected from a car that was crashed by his drunken dad, he has years of rehab in front of him.

Or the sweet girl who was having hundreds of seizures a day thanks to a degenerative disorder. She had lovely get well soon cards from her class at school, flowers, balloons, you name it, to brighten her corner of the ward and make relearning to walk, talk and eat more bearable.

Or the eleven week old boy who was in the cot next to Bobbin with blunt force trauma to the head; two skull fractures; a massive bleed to the brain. The Child Protection Unit coming and going; the wee babe going for all sorts of tests; the parents contacting their lawyer; turning over furniture looking for listening devices.

You can hear absolutely everything going on in the next cot a metre away, those curtains aren't known for their sound deadening properties, after all. The parents talked loudly on the phone to make sure we all heard them, but at one point they whispered to each other. I could still hear them. He was telling her what to say when questioned, that the bleed was caused by his most recent vaccination, that the (new) skull fractures occurred during his birth.

We stayed in a room with them for three days before we were moved for our safety. Part of me wanted to stay in there, writing down everything they said so someone could stand up for this little guy, and another part of me wanted to run as far away as I could, hands over ears, la la la I'm not listening, this doesn't really happen to innocent babes.

But it does. It did. And though this whole experience has made me hold my munchkins tighter, love on them even more, and be eternally grateful for them and their health, it has also crushed a little part of my soul, too. And I'm having a lot of trouble moving past it. I'm hoping that by writing it down; getting it out of my head, that I'll be able to.

Rainbow First Birthday Party

As an indication of my terrible memory, my poor time management skills, and the time suck that is parenting, I forgot that I hadn't blogged Bobbin's birthday party. Worst. Blogger. Ever.

It only dawned on me as I was drafting her 18 month letter and went to link to it... but there was nothing there. So here we are, just shy of six months later and I'm finally doing it!

I had chosen the theme of the birthday before she was even born. Yes, I'm that pathetic. I have been obsessed with rainbow colour the last few years and it seemed only right that I force that upon my spawn. Also, rainbow things are easy to come by on a budget. Winning!

I grabbed some plastic rainbow bunting to hang around our patio area and a whole stack of pinwheels that I got for 25c each on clearance from Kmart to rainbow-ify the yard, but other than that, I made the food tables our "decoration focus" as much as I could.

I created seven vertical rainbow garlands using coloured cardboard, a two inch punch, fishing line and a sewing needle. I started with a different colour at the top for each strand to give it a bit of variety, and hung them up on a bamboo stick above our Queen Anne dresser (which we found on the side of the road and painted up). In front of the mirrors it made it look like there many more and that I hadn't stopped at seven, screaming I'M NOT MAKING ANY MORE OF THESE BASTARDS.

I snapped up some crepe paper from a Cost Plus store for $1 per colour and made a rainbow tassel garland to hang on the food tables either side of the dresser. They were so easy to make - scissors, sticky tape and fishing line - and they now hang in our playroom because they were too beautiful to throw away.

I reused the plastic milk bottles from Tricky's LEGO party and using the same two inch punch and coloured cardboard as the vertical rainbows, created name tags for all our guests. I punched a hole in the top, tied them on with string and voila. A packet of large straws, some spotty plates and some washi tape in rainbow colours to theme the water bottles and the drinks table was looking mighty fine.

I made the little food labels using Pic Monkey and GIMP, and styled them on (OK, pretty much copied) a design I saw on Pinterest. I themed some of the food too, because if you're going to theme, THEME EVERYTHING.

My rainbow layered jellies worked out fabulously (PHEW!), but sadly the rainbow cupcakes did not. I whipped the cream in to butter for starters, so then I had to make do with cream in a can and it just wasn't thick enough for the rainbow sour straps to stand up in. They all got eaten though, so they must have tasted OK.

On the main table I also had our guest gift bags (containing assorted crap obtained super cheap hehe), and I continued the theme on to them too. I bought plain white bags and used big paint dotters to cover them in "rainbow confetti". They were labelled using the same two inch punch on coloured cardboard and the circles attached with teeny pegs I had in the cupboard for craft from two Christmases ago. I had a few spare coloured circled so I randomly scattered them across the food tables.

I organized a few activities for the kids as most of them were Tricky's age and I thought they might get bored if eating and jumping on the trampoline were the only activities. Plus I didn't want to be cleaning up rainbow vomit, so I wanted to actively discourage the trampoline after the feast!

First up we had our DIY Fairy Bread Station. I had a loaf of white, buttered bread, a few varieties of sprinkles and a few sandwich/cookie cutters. The kids (and a few adults) loved being able to make their own - fairy bread hearts taste better, ya know? It's safe to say that there were sprinkles EVERYWHERE, but I figured the kids were just trying to theme the ground, yes? It was the first time a friend had tried Fairy Bread - she's Chinese and apparently it's an Australian thing? She was trying to figure out why we'd give our kids coloured sugar on white bread. Because it's AWESOME, Viv, that's why. To that she laughed and said "I eat chicken feet and fish heads, and I think THIS is weird". Ahhh, love her.

Next up we had DIY rainbow suncatchers. I stuck some rainbow templates to the table and had containers full of pre-cut crepe paper that could be laid on flat or scrunched up and stuck on to sheets of clear contact. I printed up some instructions and stuck those to the table too, just in case any of the adults were craft phobic. I forgot to bring out the cotton wool for clouds. Oops.

Finally we had some DIY rainbow necklaces because anything that looks pretty and is edible is fantastic in my books. In one container I had lengths of wool and in another, a pack of no brand "fruit flavoured loops" because I'm cheap. These two cuties didn't seem to mind that they were Faux Loops, and got busy creating necklaces and bracelets.

For the grown ups, well, they just had each other to talk to and food to eat. Because that's entertaining enough. Unless you count the tray of photobooth props I put out; that was pretty fun, too!

The birthday girl had so much fun running around, hugging people, and generally just being adorable with the two teeniest little pigtails there ever was. She also randomly carried around an empty peanut butter jar for half the day and I have no idea why, or even where she got it from.

It was time to cut our centrepiece. I mean the cake that I'm damn proud of. A 3D rainbow pinata cake FTW!

What's a pinata cake? THAT'S a pinata cake:

It's one of those awesome cakes that looks harder than it actually is, which pretty much how I do most things in life. Enough effort to get an "ooooh" from those assembled, but not enough to warrant me being taken away to the funny farm.

As our guests left, the children were handed their gift bag and everyone received a pinwheel (or two or three) from the garden - some are still spinning to this day, in a lame attempt to keep the birds out of our veggie patch.

Thank you so much to everyone who came along to make it such a wonderful afternoon; to gorgeous Viv for taking so many pictures for us; the stunning Sonya for accidentally arriving two hours early, staying to set up and not once mentioning my pre-party leggings and stained top; my SIL Jen who helped set up and brought the balloons from her business Party In A Box; my sister Aunty Penny for stopping me having a meltdown; and to those who gave gifts or donated to Princess Margaret Hospital in lieu of gifts - you helped us raise nearly $300!