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

So close and yet so far

I did it. I cracked the shits and moved out of the dustbowl. We're now living with my parents five minutes down the round.

I'm pretty sure my mum and dad's neighbours think I've left Map Guy. They saw me single handedly (MG was at work) hauling a couple of suitcases, kids, a still limping dog, a scooter and a computer in to the house, with tears threatening to roll down my face at any moment. Because the crazy is just under the surface right now and it bubbles up to the top for all to see a couple of times a day.

We are so close to being finished with the dusty, dirty side of the renos - quite possibly only a week or two left - but I just couldn't handle it any longer. Walking around with all our belongings piled up in corners, feeling grit under foot and seeing a fresh layer of dust over everything at the end of each day despite drop sheets and high powered professional vacuums to reduce it all.

Brick dust gets fucking everywhere. I think I hate it more than the sand and that is really saying something. At least with sand I can sweep or vacuum it up myself - this shit needs a professional vacuum or it explodes the motor. I don't even want to think about what it is doing to my kids' lungs if it can fuck up German engineering.

The other day our only livable space outside of the master bedroom became off limits as a new wall went up. Tricky's bed, which had been a mattress on the floor by night, then up against the wall by day so there was at least some room to move, now doesn't fit in the space. What will be the play room is currently looking like an op shop with all the furniture crammed in there. I was climbing over a coffee table and tripping over a block trolley to get the kids clothes every morning. And when you're as anxious as I am right now, it doesn't make for the best start to the day. Plus it smells like cement and is covered in bloody brick dust.

Dusty and old (with blue rectangle of doom)

But amongst the woe is me attitude there is always time to stop and think of those less fortunate. Like the people who lived there when that wall was blue. We moved the aircon unit the other day and the thought on everyone's mind was who the hell chose that blue? Oh right, probably my dad. 

So we really had no choice but to leave for this last part. Because dust and a rectangle of horrid blue means the place isn't fit for human habitation right now.

Instead of living in grime we've chosen the lesser of two evils and are now living out of suitcases. And even though it is my parents house and I can help myself to food, have my kids looked after and even get my washing done if I want (and I do want), I still can't relax. I'm itching to get home even though when we get there it will still need painting, a floor and furniture. But at least I'll be able to walk around in my undies if I want (and I do want), without worrying that the neighbours are going to see me.

Shiny and new!

It's the biggest first world problem around, but bloody hell, I'm really struggling with all of this. The bookies wouldn't take your bet on whether I'll end up in the loony bin because it is almost a sure thing. But whilst in said loony bin you can bet I'd be wagging therapy to check out Pinterest to figure out how to decorate my new lounge room. Because PRIORITIES.

I'm clicking my heels together and chanting that there's no place like home but so far all that has happened is that my shoes are showing signs of wear and I'm tripping over my own feet (related: must buy new shoes). I'm hoping that taking a step away these last few weeks will stop me tipping completely over the edge. Now if only Tricky would stop being so sad that we're not seeing our builders daily.

5 tips to survive renovating with small children

We have been renovating our house for nearly seven weeks. It has been seven weeks of early starts (who knew tradies could be on time?!), lots of banging, old walls going down, new walls going up and us trying to make do living in one bedroom, a jam packed lounge room, and half a kitchen. Our small house is getting smaller before it gets bigger!

It is frustrating at times, and I readily admit to bouts of insanity and an overwhelming urge to cry, but seeing it all happening around us has been amazing and Tricky is absolutely loving it - especially having cement mixers, cranes, pump trucks and skip bin trucks coming and going.

But the five main things that have kept me (relatively) sane during these weeks are:

1. Babywearing all the time

Our house turned in to a construction site when Bobbin was four days old and from that moment on, as long as she was in the Hugabub, she has slept through sledgehammers, circular saws, nail guns and more. Nuzzled in to my chest she is oblivious to it all. And let’s be honest, if you were that close to my awesome rack you’d be oblivious to everything else, too. At this rate the girl will not learn to sit or crawl before she’s 12 months old, but hey, the floor is currently covered in sand so I figure that is probably a good thing.

Dirt level after just two days without vacuuming

2. Learning to go with the flow

My house is usually clean but not 100% tidy (hello, toddler on premises). But right now, our lounge is home to Tricky & Bobbin’s furniture – it looks like a second hand store with everything rammed in against each other. Add the dust and sand (dear lawd, THE SAND!) that comes with a build, and the mountains of hair from the injured dog who isn’t allowed outside and the place is feral. No, really. It is pretty disgusting right now. But you know what? There isn’t too much that can be done about that and the moment I let go of how things “should” look is the moment when it all became so much easier. I’ve even had friends over! I keep reminding myself this is only temporary and the house is going to look amazing really soon.

The littlest team member

3. Utilizing the grandparents

My parents live about five minutes away and we visit them pretty much every day we don’t have a planned activity. It’s a triple win: they get to see the grandkiddies, Tricks gets to run around without tripping over all the furniture that has been shoved in to our one usable room, and I get to relax and do nothing. Sometimes we’ll go get a coffee or some lunch and usually my Dad insists on paying. That makes it a quadruple win! Free lunch FTW!

4. Having fantastic builders

We’re using Perth builders Exactus and I couldn’t be happier. I’m blogging some of our renovation story for them over on their website – which is paid but unedited. I could prattle on about site management, deliveries being on time and blah, blah, blah, but the thing that has made this less stressful are the blokes on site. Tricky loves them. He excitedly announces when each of them arrive every day and runs out to talk to them, showing off his latest toy/skill/joke – and they’re all so lovely to him, asking him questions and telling him what the different tools are. If this build runs over time it will only be because Tricks is interrupting them. I don’t know how he is going to go when this is all finished – he’s grown so attached to them all that last week he cried because they left before he got a chance to say goodbye!

But children aside, I thought they’d be a nice bunch of blokes when in the first week, when I didn’t even know their names yet, I heard them all singing along to the radio, belting out “What’s Up?” by Four Non Blondes with gusto. Yes, I completely judge people by their ability to perform karaoke at work, don’t you? If you don’t sing along to that song then I don’t want to know you. It was topped off when ‘Grubby’ showed Miley Cyrus how sledgehammer licking should really be done:

That's not a sledgehammer lick, THIS is a sledgehammer lick

5. Embracing my inner craft nut

As much as he’d love it, it isn’t really safe to let Tricky play in the backyard when half of it is a building site. I had grand plans to go to the park a lot but the weather has been unseasonably wet so we have been stuck inside. In the one room. With all our furniture. And the dog. GAH! But a daily raiding of the craft drawers has been brilliant. Tricks loves craft and we normally do it once or twice a week but now it is once or twice a day. We’ve been making egg carton caterpillars, toilet roll birds, pipecleaner spiders and now we're on to Halloween craft. But nothing beats painting all over the temporary walls - let's just hope he doesn't paint the new walls.

My craft activity is better than your craft activity

Have you built/renovated with little kids? What kept you sane(ish)?

A slab, some bricks and a shit load of sand

Remind me again why I thought extending and renovating with a newborn would be a good idea? Oh that's right, so she actually had somewhere to sleep!

Our house is small, measuring in at just under 100m2. In that space we have three bedrooms, one bathroom, a laundry, a kitchen and a combined lounge/dining. There isn't space to swing a cat, which is disappointing as swinging cats is one of my favourite pastimes. So we're adding adequate cat swinging space right now.

Over the past few weeks there have been a stack of blokes rocking up at 7:00am on the dot to start banging around ripping down walls and building new ones. There has been so much sledge hammering that I really expected Miley Cyrus to walk up and start licking everything.

Right now the front yard is covered in equipment and an oh-so-glam porta loo, and the back yard is unrecognizable. There is sand, bricks, sand, temporary walls, sand, support beams, sand, insulation, sand, window frames and MORE FUCKING SAND. And every day, despite keeping everything as closed up as possible, more sand gets in the house. Our builders*, Perth renovation specialists Exactus, are great and doing everything they can to keep it at a minimum, even sweeping up our back step every day before they knock off, but their skills are no match for the sand-tracking power of Tricky.

I'm still feeling positive. Some days it is positively insane, but hey, it is still positive, right? All the furniture from the kids bedrooms is in the lounge and whilst Tricky thinks "camping" out there is awesome, we are living on top of each other. If I want to chill out with some TV after 7:00pm it just isn't possible without waking the boy. First world problem, having to lay down in bed with a book or the iPad.

On top of this the dog had an operation to repair a snapped anterior cruciet ligament and has to stay inside with the cone of shame on his head, scraping our legs and banging on to every bloody piece of jammed in furniture as he hops along.

Oh who am I kidding? I'm going nucking futs! We're in each others pockets, covered in sand and dog hair with scrapes on our shins! But it is so exciting to see it all coming together so quickly. Now, if only Kevin would visit...

* That's not a paid link - but I am doing some paid work for them, blogging over at the Exactus website through the renos- unedited! That's how confident they are that we'll love them. You can find the first post here.

An open letter to Kevin McCloud

Dear Kevin,

It came to my attention recently that you will be visiting Australia for a little jaunt in the very near future. In fact I found out that you were coming only one day after exclaiming that I will likely have a breakdown while we do a house extension unless you came and visited. Some people would call that simply serendipitous or a mere coincidence, and some would call it an automated email from the ticketing partner. I would like to call it fate.

Kevin, I'd like to extend an invitation to you to visit my home during our building project which will be in full swing when you are in Perth. Yes, Perth! It is the city left off every tour but yet you have chosen to grace us, the most remote capital city in the world, with your presence. You have no idea how many brownie points this just got you. If you come to my house it will earn you actual brownies, too!

Whilst this is just an ordinary suburban house (a bungalow to you UK folk), and not a falling down barn, a repurposed water tank or even a skinny block with zero access other than giant cranes, we are doing some things in keeping with the overarching themes of Grand Designs such as:

• fancy wall insulation
• eco glass and flooring
• solar tubing
• a vegetable garden and chooks (I will name one Kevin if you like)
• living on site while it happens  
• having a baby right in the middle of it all

We respectfully decline to fall pregnant again mid-build though. Is that actually part of the contract the TV station gets people to sign? It is rumoured to be.

If it would help seal the deal I can arrange for:

• the insulation to be delivered from Belgium
• the windows to come in the wrong size
• the budget to blow out to the point where I refuse to actually say the final amount
• Aussie stereotypes aplenty - I can organize with the local zoo for a Kangaroo and/or Koala to be on site at all times

Know that I am so committed to this that I would also arrange for unseasonal downpours that put us months behind schedule if I could, but alas, my talents do not stretch that far.

So how about it, Kevin? I'll pop the kettle on and whip up those brownies, or if you'd like to come straight after your show I'll open a bottle of plonk and throw some sausages on the barbie.

Yours in anticipation,

Glow

Because that's a clever thing to do with a newborn in the house!

From what I learned the last time around and from what the powers that be say, when you have a newborn there are certain things you should probably avoid. Dangerous things like rabid animals, hard drugs, death metal concerts, and being around certain relatives.

Then there are the less dangerous but really annoying things you should avoid doing with a newborn. Like moving house, organizing a wedding, and being around certain relatives.

I'd like to add to that list. Renovate and/or extend your house.

So, hey, guess what we're doing?

Yeah. We're renovating and extending the house! Because that is SO clever. And I'm not stressed AT ALL. Unless of course almost bursting in to tears every time you look at the plans is a sign of stress?

This has been on the cards for a long time. The plans were drawn up months ago, the quotes submitted and the builder chosen. We signed on the dotted line (three hundred times, getting writers cramp) and it is now official.

I'm having trouble picturing the finished product in all it's glory. Instead I can hear jackhammers on the other side of the wall just after getting Bobbin to sleep, see myself cleaning up dust only to turn around and find a fresh new layer and envisioning sand being traipsed around from asshole to breakfast every day of the build.

If Kevin McCloud isn't going to drop around and ask about our budget and council approval timeline then I just don't know if I can do it without a few minor breakdowns and really whiney blog posts.

But then I think of the awesome things and all of a sudden there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Things like decorating Tricky and Bobbin's new bedrooms. Choosing a lounge suite to replace to the two broken ones we are currently using. Finding the perfect dining table that doesn't have wonky legs. Having a house bigger than a shoebox where we don't trip over each other. Planting a kitchen garden to replace the weeds of doom, and even getting chooks. I just have to remember to focus on that... and the outside chance of a visit from Kevin, and I'll get through it.

Failing that I'm packing a bag and moving in with my parents for a while.

Have you renovated? With little kids? Gimme ALL TEH ADVICE!

P.S. Kevin if you're reading this, let's talk.

A house full of memories

Oh hey, guess who is in a magazine this month? Any excuse to get my mug in a national mag, right? Well, not so much this time because it's not an article about blogging. Or motherhood. Or being whingey. The three things most often associated with me. Instead it is an article about property. In a property magazine.

Now I'm no property guru. I live in a 1970s shoe-box sized house on fair whack of land (by suburban Perth standards) in a suburb known for its high proportion of Centrelink recipients. Of which I'm obviously one - ohai soon to be gone Baby Bonus.

But my friend Shannon, who happens to be the Deputy Editor of Australian Property Investor, asked (via Facebook - where all good questions are asked) if anyone knew anyone who had bought a house that had a family connection somewhere in its history for an article he was writing. So I put up my hand. Because it's nice to help a friend and also the whole I'm a MEDIA WHORE thing. Plus I had an idea for some cool photos.

Yours truly is gracing the pages of this month's issue of Australian Property Investor because I bought the house my parents built in the 1970s.

L: Me in the laundry sink 1983    R: Tricky in the new laundry sink 2013.
See the door handle and curtain? Still the same!

Map Guy and I bought the place in 2008 and renovated extensively to de-70-ify it. The archways have all been squared off, the hideous yet groovy in its hey day yellow and brown laundry has been replaced with sleek grey and white, the teeny kitchen has been ripped out and a new sparkly one put in its place and the whole place rendered and painted. Let's not talk about the back yard though.

My little house is full of memories. I remember sitting in the dining room with my grandparents and blowing out birthday candles. I remember my uncle knocking on the front door dressed as Santa... though I was sure it was actually the dude from the North Pole at the time. I remember washing my dolls' clothes and hanging them on a string line under the patio. And whilst almost everything about the house is different I can still see the ghosts of those happy times. I often get extraordinary de ja vu walking around this place.

L: Teeny tiny yellow and brown kitchen (me in my mum's arms) 1982
R: My bigger kitchen with red glass splashback

It is the house I took my first steps in and the house Tricky took his first steps in. I could go further and say we were both conceived in it, but that would just freak me out and give me terrible visuals. And we all know how I feel about that.

It is still a shoe-box but it's a much more modern shoe-box. Right now we're debating whether or not to extend. Every time I think we've made the decision, one of us, who shall remain nameless, spins out over how much money it will cost and how hard it will be being home all day with two children in a building site. Which kinda gives away which nameless person that is. If you can't figure it out, here's a clue:

L: Strike a pose circa 1985    R: Strike a pose 2013
Different front door, carpet and door handle. Same shitty brown tiles though!

What?! I happened to have red shoes and a black silk dressing gown hanging around!!

If you want to read the article to find out why we bought my parents' old house (that we'd moved out of when I was six) then get your hands on the June issue of Australian Property Investor.

Do you have a family connection to the home you live in?