It seems that hardly a day passes here without some sort of odd occurrence. Today that occurrence was once again animal related. We had a surprise visit from three goats. We know who owns them and where they live but there’s still something strange about gazing through your kitchen window and suddenly there are goats……but hold on, we don’t own any goats. According to legend, these three goats used to live on our land before being given away to a neighbour about 12 acres away. Occasionally they will wander back to see whats happening. To see if there is anything new they can destroy. Today they met Felix, one of our cats. It was a surprisingly uneventful scenario. A cat/goat bi-species kiss was shared then both parties went back about their business….the goats business being eating our plants. Eventually they will wander back home again.
Wake up to cat pooh in the bath again….pooh. Wake up to two sick and cranky four year olds…pooh. Wake up sick myself….pooh. 20 minutes later the cat pisses on the bathroom floor…..oh pooh. And even more pooh is the pooh it leaves in the bathtub 10 minutes after that…..again, what fresh pooh is this? Cue the mopping of cat pee floors and medicating of sick peoples. Tv is on all day and I feel pooh about that. My patience is truly running thin…and I feel pooh about that. Thankfully my husband can recognise when the pooh is about to hit the fan and sends me for a nap….which is awesome and the first not pooh thing to happen today.
Homemade pizza base is made for dinner and placed in a cling wrapped bowl infront of our fireplace to rise. Instructions are given to leave it be and watch it grow. I turn my back and master 4 has gouged a massive hole in the wrap and is currently hand moulding our pizza dough like its a plasticine project….pooh. Deep breaths, deep breaths…..
Instead of strangling master 4, the dough gets re-wrapped, placed out of reach and a 5 minute sanity break walk is taken.
Seeing this guy always makes the heart rate calm down. He is definitely not pooh.
Looking at the sunset, our farm and beautiful views all serve to calm down the rattled nerves. Ahhhh, serenity now. This is not pooh either
…..AHHH POOH! In my 5 minute absence my partially drunk coffee has been turned into a lolly river, the wooden floors have been “washed” (i.e. flooded with cold water), the house looks like a bomb has hit, and the pizza dough has NOT risen.
I look at my husband and try not to cry, “So, takeaway pizza then?”……
Rain, rain, rain, and oh, here, have some more rain why don’t you. So, as you can tell we have had quite a bucket load of rain lately. Its been enough to fill our dam, make the ducks extremely happy, and create a fantastically damp environment for all things fungussy to grow.
In a rare days break from the rain the kids and I set off on a mushroom hunt. They have become so adept at spotting a shroom from 20 feet away they both now claim to have “mushroom eyes” and be mushroom experts. I myself make no such claims. Mostly our hunt reminded me of this song which will now be like an earwig in my brain for days. Here, let me share it with you. Once that is in your head take a peek at the awesome fungi found on our property.
We have recently moved to a 20 acre property in North East Tasmania. Farm,or more correctly hobby farm, life is suiting us well so far. Another recent occurence was our twins 4th birthday. Our son was lucky enough to recieve an awesome pirate outfit. Despite us not being within 30 minutes of the ocean and therefore pirateering shenanigans, his outfit and their current pirate/treasure obsession has brought closer to reality a part of our farm life and the history of our land. How so you might ask…….because there’s buried treasure on our land! I kid you not.
A few months ago, not long after we had moved in, I was taking a solo wander around our pastures, strolling along our riverside, really soaking everything in and letting my imagination run wild with the awesomeness of our new situation. I glanced down and saw something gleaming in the sunlight, something shiny half embedded into a grass covered mound of dirt. Not keen at this stage to get my hands dirty I grab a handy stick and poke around. I almost peed my pants in excitement when this little beauty of a bottle emerged from the riverside muck…….
Being in an imaginative state my mind ran just a bit wild. Bushrangers! Bushrangers had once been on our land and made a camp by our riverside. This theory was only enforced by my next find,this ye olde beer bottle….
I rushed home to show my treasures to my three fellow potential archaeologists.
My husband soon put a factual spin on my find. Unfortunately my imagination, while it made an intetesting story, was wrong.
So, apparently there was an older house on our land, further towards the mountain base. This house burnt down but the concrete foundation is still there. People from around this era (1940s) didnt have garbage collection. Instead they made their own garbage mounds at various locations around their property. Of course many years later the food stuffs have decomposed, leaving the unbiodegradable goods under the earth.
The next day the kids (my keen treasure discovering pirates) and myself (now armed with gloves and digging implements) set forth to excavate more historical artefacts. Fast forward to four months later and we still go digging for treasure about once a week and have unearthed some real beautiful finds.
They may not be worth much (that I know of) but the connection they give us to the previous land owners,the history of our land, and the shared excitement we have of finding our own treasure, is priceless.
Some of our finds close up:
Home decorating has never been one of my fortes, most of our furniture until now has been pre-loved by family or friends, or bought cheap, then broken with a few years of use. Now that we have moved to a place (geographically and financially) where I can start fresh and purchase home goodies on a whim we’ve had a few lovely items come into our home.
One of these items is this –
A vintage hand beaten brass fire screen featuring two lovely “hunting dogs”.
I had spotted it a few times for sale at a shop and finally decided that it must be ours. We recently lost our two ten year old dogs. I loved them immensely and think they would have enjoyed sitting in front of the warm fire place during winter. Now these two brass dogs will be their shiny reminders, taking their place in front of the burning embers.
Shiny reminders now, but not so when they first came home. This is what they looked like –
Tarnish galore! Today I broke out the Brasso, grabbed some rags and sacrificed a toothbrush in the goal of finding the gleam beneath the tarnish.
Approximately three hours later, this is the result.
A mostly shiny fire screen. I’m sure that with some more elbow grease the remaining gumpfh would be buffed away to reveal a perfect 100% brassy shine, but I kind of like it with a bit of tarnish. Like most things in life, its not perfect, and that’s what gives it its character.
- Hand beaten brass “Hunting dogs” fire screen. Bought from Junk St. Store, Invermay, Tasmania, for $95.00.
Like every mum I love love love (times infinity) my babies. Even though I might struggle slightly at times, as I am sure every new mum does, they are truly the light of my life and now that I have them I would not ever want to be without them. These are a few of my favourite things (about twins);
There is always a baby wanting a hug, you can never feel unneeded or unwanted when there are four eager hands ready to clasp around your waist.
Going into their room of a morning to delighted choruses of “Mum Mum Mum” in stereo, and two happy chappies bouncing up and down in their cots ready to start their day.
Watching them develop together. It is amazing to watch their different personalities evolve as completely different people, yet from the same womb at the same time.
Watching their skills develop at different rates, they both say different words, despite having been exposed to the same vocabularies, and have their own particular favourite toys and books.
They go through milestones at the same time. Teething – done. Toilet training – done. Terrible twos – done. Or will be done when we get to that point <fingers crossed>.
Seeing them interact more and more, changing from parallel play to actually playing together.
Listening to them chatter away together in their own baby babble language.
Always having something to do, there is never ever a dull moment, for me, or for them.
Random strangers will stop you and compliment you on your beautiful babies. Even these days when multiple births are not particularly uncommon, twins still fascinate people.
They will always have someone to play with, and hopefully remain close for life.
Its an awesome feeling to know that these two people were together from pretty much their first moments of conception, and grew together within me. The human body is an amazing thing.
Watching the learn from each other (usually devious things ; )). They encourage each other and give each other confidence.
Through having multiples we have met some lovely people we wouldn’t have otherwise and now feel like part of a special community.
They have made me realise that I am stronger than I think and can handle a lot more than previously thought. So can my marriage for that matter.
They are just so damn cute!
All in all twinfancy is a pretty awesome thing and all the difficulties seem like nothing when compared to two times the happiness. (Just remind me of this next time one of them has a meltdown).
These are all things I have had said to me in the past 16 months. And the reasons why its just not cool.
“Geez you look tired” – tired is not abnormal, it is a constant state of being for me. It just is. There’s no need to point out the grey eye bags…I’m aware they are there and that they are massive. Fanks.
“You don’t seem like you have PND” – Should I be a constant crying mess, unable to do anything? Happy fronts are easy to put on and only few people see what happens behind closed doors, and you cannot, more importantly, see what’s happening inside someone else’s brain. BTW, what does PND “look” like anyway? This in itself is a *whole* other blog post.
“Having one baby is just as hard as having twins” – Bwahahahahahahahahahahaha…and did I mention bwahahahahahahahahahahaha. No, just no. That is like me saying having twins is just the same as having triplets. I am pretty sure that triplet mum would want to punch me too. I had ‘one’ baby at home for 6 weeks before her twin joined us, and although 6 weeks is not a huge amount of time by jeesus I could tell the difference when there were eventually two. Yes, I am certain there are singleton babies that are as demanding as twins but the logistics are much simpler.
“Having kids close together is the same as twins” – Again, no, just no. Don’t make me want to punch you again.
“Are they “natural”?- Yes, they are made from flesh and blood, not plastic. i.e. I know what you are getting at and its none of your business Mr or Mrs Nosey-Parker.
“Double trouble” – Not really, actually, they’re great kids.
Things you could try saying instead:
“Your kids look like happy babies” – Yes, they are, thanks.
“You’re doing a great job” – Thanks again. Actually, I am sure every Mum, regardless of how many kids they have, would like to hear this. Say this one more often!!
Any other twin mums have something to add to the list?