I take advantage of the fact that they still play along with this. I doubt I’ll be getting school children to wear Christmas-themed outfits. Or will I?
Riley was somewhat less enthusiastic than she has been in previous years. Preferring to bounce on the trampoline.
I totally used Clinicare anti-frizz on her hair, because I am evil.
Photos with two kids is infinitely more challenging than one. I’m amazed that I managed to get any photos at all.
I cannot believe how grown up she looks.
And if I can get all parental for a minute, sometimes she completely takes my breath away.
She’s such a poser.
I feel sorry for Future Zoey who is going to have to say no to this face more often.
Oh yes, future Zoey is going to be in trouble. Big trouble.
Santa baby is irresistible. I might just dress her in this outfit on most days leading up until Christmas just for giggles.
It pleases me that she’s just as much of a camera-lover as her sister. That statement is probably misleading. It’s not like either of them have a choice.
Most of the photos I took of her are like this, in rapt adoration of her sister on the trampoline.
She’s a happy baby Santa too given she had approximately zero sleep yesterday.
Merry Christmas everyone!
After nearly two weeks we will be heading back home. A place where I am responsible for all cooking and cleaning and during the day I am mostly on my own. Not enthused. I rather enjoy being pampered silly. But eventually, things have to get back to normal. And both girls are more than ready to get back to normal. In fact they were probably ready a few days ago. And I definitely miss my partner in crime and life.
The worst part for me is travelling. What on earth possessed me to book a flight home at 4pm in the afternoon. I should probably apologise to my fellow passengers in advance.
It can be hard to get back into the swing of things once I am back too. All that cooking, all that cleaning. All that responsibility. Everything. But I”m going to distract myself with Christmas. It’s not hard. THREE WEEKS, PEOPLE. You have my permission to start panicking. And because I’ve been away, certain traditions haven’t been honoured. Like putting up the Christmas tree on the first Saturday of December. So that will be happening on the weekend. And I will decorate the rest of the house as well. Then there’s presents to buy, a ludicrous amount of food to plan and cook and that pesky Christmas photo to take. But what I’m really looking forward to? Is taking both girls up to see the Christmas Lights in the Hunter Valley. That has to be one of the funnest nights of the year.
The only saving grace is that I’ve already celebrated Christmas with part of my family so I will have less people to shop for when I get home and no postage to worry about. That was a stroke of genius. The only downside is that I fear my packing today will require tetris-like precision.
Wish me luck.
By the time you are reading this I will be (hopefully) already at the airport and be all checked in. I hope that’s where I’ll be anyway. I do not want a repeat of my nearly missing my flight to Melbourne. That was less than fun. And if it wasn’t for the kindness of Jetstar at Newcastle Airport (thank you!) and a fellow passenger who was able to identify someone under extreme stress and helped me with all of my bags, I probably wouldn’t have made it.
This time I’m not going to a blogging event, I’m heading north to see my family for 10 days. Mr Goog will be staying behind and I think he’s quietly giddy at the thought of being sans family for 10 days.
Going away is more work. There’s the initial child wrangling at the airport. The inevitable delays which always seem to stretch out when you are travelling with kids. And I can definitely say I’m not looking forward to looking after two little people with hurty ears. Note to self: buy lollipops.
And it is when you get there too, in some ways. Little people love their routine and familiarity and tend to be a little out of sorts when you uproot them, no matter how excited they are about going.
But it’s hard to explain how much I look forward to adult female company, or having a break from cooking (ah sweet relief!) or getting to show off my babies to family and friends who don’t get to see them that often. So I won’t try. I will just say that waking up to someone who is already making your child breakfast is like heaven. I think as a parent the thing that I find most draining is the never ending demands. And it’s not so much the demands in and of itself. I’m not technically opposed to feeding and watering the children. But it tends to go a little like this:
‘I want toast’
‘Do you want toast or bread?’ because you know she really wants bread and if you put it in the toaster she will lose the plot
‘Do you want to spread it or do you want me to do it’ same deal. Likely to lose the plot if I touch it
Finally after she has finished you are half way to sitting down
‘I want water’
You go and get water
‘I want it in a different cup’
Sometimes you change cups, sometimes you don’t.
You try to sit down again.
‘I want milk’
You go get the damn milk. And try to sit down again.
‘I want a banana’
At this point you’ve given up on ever sitting down ever again and the baby has just woken up.
So any kind of diffusion of this is all kinds of welcome.
When I get back it will be less than three weeks to Christmas. I know, I am panicking. And hoping that somebody throws some paid articles my way so I can actually pay for Christmas.
But I’m probably getting ahead of myself. First I have to pack. The horror. I will get through it by thinking of all the good kind of lazy days in my future, an early Christmas with my family and a Veggie Baby-Squishy play date.
We’ve started writing down her Christmas list. She draws it and I write the words, so Santa knows what to bring her.
Sadly, I am guilty of manipulating her requests.
‘I want a rabbit’
‘Do you want a rabbit, or do you want a kitten?’
‘I want a kitten – a black one!’
‘Do you want a black one, or do you want a grey and white one?’
‘A grey and white one!’
Far too easy. At least she won’t be disappointed though when she meets Floyd, the grey and white kitten who is most definitely not a rabbit and not black.
Perhaps it stems from my own Christmas enthusiasm, but Riley’s love of Christmas is EPIC. And has very little to do with presents. A fair few months ago for some reason they had a Christmas tree in a bank that we walked past. When I informed her I didn’t know why they had it. Serioiusly WHY?! She was extremely devastated.
So as I was holding her hand as we walked into Target the other day she could barely contain her zeal when she saw not one, but several Christmas trees, proving that Christmas was in fact on it’s way, cruel bank jokes aside.
I walked her down each aisle of Christmas decorations and let her know she could pick one thing that we would take home. It took her awhile. She was very excited and kept saying ‘I just can’t decide’. She eventually settled on a reindeer and has since raided our decorations box in the garage for her hat. Which jingles.
Finally had some time to put together the paddling pool the googy got for Christmas. I know. It’s nearly the end of January and I’ve only just taken the tree down as well. A fact that was extremely disappointing to Riley. But her spirits were lifted by this addition. To say that she was keen is a slight understatement. Since yesterday afternoon she has been checking in with me to make sure that the pool is still there at roughly 15 minute intervals. Just to be sure.
I’ll be keeping an eye on her from the porch, outside of the splash zone.
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It is typical that just as I’m trying to get myself orgnanised to take down the Christmas tree that Riley suddenly and inexplicably shows an interest in the Christmas hat that I was trying to get her to wear for ages in the hope of a suitably tacky Christmas photo. Well no Christmas photo was had. And today, she decides that she absolutely must wear the Christmas hat and I must photograph her in it. All while she’s dancing around the place at a frenetic pace, completely naked. Touche tiny dictator.
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