tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71374865484576493152024-03-14T08:11:35.788+11:00Button BrainLife is rarely simple, but I believe it can always be joyful. I'm raising my 4 teenagers with The Man I Married, trying my best , and accepting there will be mistakes along the way.buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.comBlogger179125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-6432031634641246542016-05-18T18:23:00.001+10:002016-05-18T20:38:43.610+10:00not readyI'm in a weird place right now.<br />
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A twinkling, twilightly kind of space.<br />
Three of my children have grown to be adults.<br />
Like....ADULTS.. !<br />
How is that even possible?<br />
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It was a blink ago that they were wee small toddlers and I was worrying over whether they ate enough vegetables ( about 22% of the time) or if they understood the concept of sharing ( about 0.3% of the time).<br />
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It was only yesterday I walked my sweet first born in to his Prep classroom and handed him over to the education department. It was only this morning that my first daughter lost her first tooth.<br />
Surely it was only a heartbeat ago that I held my second daughter, fresh out of the humidicrib (and whispered, " oh my darling girl, you will be trouble").<br />
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And yet here I am, with fully grown adult children , setting forth into the world boldly and randomly in a non-mum-approved manner.<br />
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My second child is all set to fly to THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PLANET in a weeks time, all set for a cosplaying Anime convention in the good ole USA. Am I ready for that ?<br />
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arrrm.....<br />
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Nope.<br />
No.<br />
Hell No!<br />
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I'm breathing, and meditating and trying to remember that it's just a concept of space or distance ( and just secretly googling flight prices to the US in case I need to go and rescue/ search for/ extradite or generally bring home second child)<br />
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<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-67255708868260561922015-12-18T12:15:00.000+11:002015-12-18T12:15:45.284+11:00Sorry for the spammersHi everyone .<br />
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Unfortunately my change of name from Simple Loving Thoughts to Button Brain has taken an unexpected turn.<br />
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Some very enterprising spammer has registered that blog name "Simple Loving Thoughts" and is merrily spamming my old email follower list with awesome links to essentials such as herpes medications.<br />
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While I absolutely promise I did not sell your details to anyone, if you have followed by email Simple Loving Thoughts, this gives them access to you. I have asked for further support from Blogger via their forums but right now, all I can do is apologize.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhieFUx1qzBETkZK92aTUpmXD6czBwBcmynSEe2U_o2ZBC0E4hsRW-TooN-RMzesjCC0ryXOSu4R4JVWqQ7LdDpohdWYlEN6_z26WupIlUwhW8W0p-TnDrNJEAGrdMZuBB1eLXoGf2Io4WV/s1600/05cb67fa-b749-46e1-abb0-6d7f8d87e6ce.jpe" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhieFUx1qzBETkZK92aTUpmXD6czBwBcmynSEe2U_o2ZBC0E4hsRW-TooN-RMzesjCC0ryXOSu4R4JVWqQ7LdDpohdWYlEN6_z26WupIlUwhW8W0p-TnDrNJEAGrdMZuBB1eLXoGf2Io4WV/s320/05cb67fa-b749-46e1-abb0-6d7f8d87e6ce.jpe" width="240" /></a></div>
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Please take care to unfollow or unsubscribe at the base of their email.<br />
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Cheers, love and best wishes<br />
<br />
Lisa<br />
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PS This shouldn't apply to followers of Button Brainbuttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-13004291377266181632015-07-10T15:43:00.000+10:002015-07-10T16:14:13.539+10:00Button Brain is BackWell hello there!<br />
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After almost a year of sitting back and smelling the roses ( or to be more accurate, doing the hard yards at work, in mothering and wife-ing) I have discovered that I miss my little blog, and the bloggy world, very much. <br />
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I miss writing, I miss interacting and I miss knowing and acknowledging that my mess is the same messy mess as everybody else. It might be a different shape or colour, but either way we are all a red-hot mess in some private way.<br />
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I miss having a hilarious moment and having somewhere to record it. I miss the virtual high fives and the encouragement when things have gone well. I miss those moments when I talk about something personal and someone else replies "I've been there too." <br />
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My community, my support base has been less without blogging. I did not realise how much my sense of belonging came from a bunch of people who have most likely never met me in real life, but who were cheering me on, wanting the best for me and sharing the laughs and tears along the way.<br />
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So I'm reopening the blog-space that is Button Brain. A couple of posts have been removed as their content is perhaps no longer my story to tell. Everything else remains. The good, the bad and the in-between. There are posts from my early blog days that are clumsy, before I knew about the "rules". If you stumble across them, be gentle. I did my best. I wrote from my heart. <br />
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In my house:<br />
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The Button Brain household is still running along at a steady pace. The kids are still all here, under our roof, eating all my food and making me wondering if I need to build a basement for them to move into when they turn 40.<br />
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The Man I Married is still the Man I am Married to ! Phew, another year, more bridges built, more rivers crossed and more lessons learned. We are forgiving souls, even though deeply flawed, and we are a work in progress. I suspect this will always be the case.<br />
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I am a night shift nurse, working in acute general nursing and paediatrics. I love my job. I can find the funny side of most situations and for the saddest times, I feel honoured to be there when I'm needed.<br />
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Life is good. I am looking forward to once again sharing it with you.<br />
<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-73935544889153820752014-08-15T11:48:00.000+10:002014-08-15T11:48:04.498+10:00An everyday family tradition<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">What is your best thing ?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Those are the words we hear every night repeated at our dinner table.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Years ago when the older kids were just little people we started an everyday dinner time tradition, to try and focus on each other's highlights and low points in the day.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYbniRb2HPWD-kEOY8JXOp2MMRXDEe6g7Dx6Zq4iGleVQwbTJce9mwk-2PiLuJ5vIv62rMF_wTzXFfMrxFBxXOIH_-d4tkFg7cZAj8FzOXa4tYgnkbvKHeXs45tUqn2wUop1QJ2OgW46a/s1600/simple-family-tradition.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlYbniRb2HPWD-kEOY8JXOp2MMRXDEe6g7Dx6Zq4iGleVQwbTJce9mwk-2PiLuJ5vIv62rMF_wTzXFfMrxFBxXOIH_-d4tkFg7cZAj8FzOXa4tYgnkbvKHeXs45tUqn2wUop1QJ2OgW46a/s1600/simple-family-tradition.gif" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">At some stage in the meal someone will ask any other person at the table "What was your best thing today? " The replies are often funny, or mundane, sometimes they are revealing and pleasantly surprising. Sometimes a best thing is as simple as the snuggly welcome home someone got from the dog that afternoon, or that they managed to shoot a netball hoop after 258 failed attempts. I LOVE it when their best thing is whatever I've cooked for dinner.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The initiator then asks " What was your worst thing today?" Again, the answers can reveal in a sentence or two whether the replier is having issues with a subject or classmate, whether they are sad about something we didn't even know about. It's always okay to say you didn't have a worst thing.. That is a happy day indeed !</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">We then ask again " What is another best thing" to finish on a positive. Once that person has given their three answers it's their turn to ask another person at the table and so we go on. Any visitors to our table are included, including grandparents, aunts and uncles, sleepover visitors, even dad's mate who came for dinner on his way to a conference !</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The only rules are - we all listen to each other's answers, and you aren't allowed to say "nothing" for your best thing. If the answer is nothing we all give some helpful hints, including the fact that they have a hot meal in front of them, warm clothes and a loving family. They might need to be reminded that there is only one week until school holidays, or that they got an award at school assembly.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">So what were we teaching our kids ?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">That there is always more good than bad in every day.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">To try and focus on the positives and really think about what worked and what didn't work in each day.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">They have learnt to sit, listen and take some interest in what is going on in the lives of every other person at the table. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When kids are little, we as parents often ask "What did you do today?" Imagine how busy little people try to summarize all that happened in the day- Impossible! Giving them a starting place and a specific question helps them organize their thoughts.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the children have gotten older, we've found this little tradition has been crucial in engaging our teenagers in conversation. We could ask "Have you had a good day?" and we would no doubt get a monosyllable answer. With this tradition, they have to answer in a sentence and give more than just a Yes or No response. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We didn't realise it when we started, but this simple family tradition has become one of the most important daily events in our lives. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">Do you have a family ritual or tradition ? How do you help your child reflect on their day ?</span></span>buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-35384698028636801432014-08-04T05:30:00.000+10:002014-08-10T11:00:44.976+10:00Laughing at myself - I MUST CONFESS<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I MUST CONFESS - Deep inside, past all the grown up, mother of 4, responsible working nurse me, way past the mortgage paying, grocery shopping, bed making 42 year old me, there still dwells a bemused 18 yr old.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1TZ2sNoN37LejmBboTSxErul6tQXIY0aW-uPbGfSZo8fKvH7P2humxxy5s3W9fTAmYzSsvg0Skw7LvMiCBwLvQy6EzEj0hfwIp8msJXDayluvkWrFp2UWUTelBsHTg8uGHlvyZTzWAiC/s1600/disney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE1TZ2sNoN37LejmBboTSxErul6tQXIY0aW-uPbGfSZo8fKvH7P2humxxy5s3W9fTAmYzSsvg0Skw7LvMiCBwLvQy6EzEj0hfwIp8msJXDayluvkWrFp2UWUTelBsHTg8uGHlvyZTzWAiC/s1600/disney.jpg" height="186" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I regularly have moments of wonder.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wonder that anyone thinks I'm mature enough for all this responsibility, that I have even a quarter of what it takes to raise another human being, let alone four of them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm stunned that I am deemed trustworthy enough to work, to drive, to supervise teenagers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And yet here I am.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes I talk to myself, from old to young, or from young to old.... one girlfriend to another.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes 18 year old me is stomping her feet saying "I don't want to do this". Often she is looking in the mirror saying "Holy crap Lisa, what the heck is going on with your hair? "</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Regularly she is shaking her head and chuckling "Wow, 42 years and you still can't put on eyeliner !"</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYs3lW8WKQGfri69HuGxL7ARrRcNYCt_NyJkt_fZPg6vrJEteNccWyXIPrFaPAz6ZAOq_HaoOHoVRh00pRjOmctcaZZpp3Ph6yT3SgIfh6_vPp3m7ITmy2A05Pab0j6IkK5z04vjwq0f_/s1600/4f28e09bf44cffff635355bb401d627c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAYs3lW8WKQGfri69HuGxL7ARrRcNYCt_NyJkt_fZPg6vrJEteNccWyXIPrFaPAz6ZAOq_HaoOHoVRh00pRjOmctcaZZpp3Ph6yT3SgIfh6_vPp3m7ITmy2A05Pab0j6IkK5z04vjwq0f_/s1600/4f28e09bf44cffff635355bb401d627c.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> She laughs out loud at me ... ( she doesn't LOL becuase at 18 years of age for me there was no such thing as text messages, or mobile phones. )... she laughs out loud at my rules for my teenagers. Giggles when I lay down the "Rules when your boyfriend comes to visit", and snorts when I'm demanding that my teenage girls do some homework. She mocks me and asks "How are you going to handle this one" when my teenager declares (again) that she hates school and is quitting, and high-fives me when I manage to convince the same teenager to stay at school, at least for the rest of this week.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When my teenage daughter is telling me she hates a subject or that some teacher is boring, on the outside I am maturely trying to problem solve and explaining the importance of a complete education.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But 18 year old me is reminding me of how many times I told my parents I wanted to quit. I'm reminded of how frustrated I was at having to do subjects I hated, and how I thought most of my teachers were idiots.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5NKdeJyz48esoF4e6taWvP3gdzOfg4CsFTpjaJYJub-hMEqIF3AyuvqhdvuK35Tx_AF2Kl5GD7VuPr-7kI5mdgrEAgT3_xmJH2WCk4hj9wIq98xPFZc4C5wohX8aUySBz32sW8zcKnuN3/s1600/3c0dea315a22d034b5ac66bea78c445c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5NKdeJyz48esoF4e6taWvP3gdzOfg4CsFTpjaJYJub-hMEqIF3AyuvqhdvuK35Tx_AF2Kl5GD7VuPr-7kI5mdgrEAgT3_xmJH2WCk4hj9wIq98xPFZc4C5wohX8aUySBz32sW8zcKnuN3/s1600/3c0dea315a22d034b5ac66bea78c445c.jpg" height="379" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">18 year old me shows me a flashback, of my Mum sitting on the end of my bed, gently asking if I would consider doing just an hour of study for my HSC.. and of me laughing and saying "Nope" I had a boyfriend to visit, friends to catch up with.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEAfv0PKlvuIEZGvisHw506qmvAm5Z7Nk7PP8n0wkAe-IF8u1-A-GN-K5O6oT_oxp-3isiJxNQyvYHC4rf2tJiD5zhUNiHslZ3s_LhNUNvhnOHMMpdpGx2Vc6aVIKBb8izeSHguYEVO6qN/s1600/c4910d3f3e5fd8a4a774dfe083c76b11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEAfv0PKlvuIEZGvisHw506qmvAm5Z7Nk7PP8n0wkAe-IF8u1-A-GN-K5O6oT_oxp-3isiJxNQyvYHC4rf2tJiD5zhUNiHslZ3s_LhNUNvhnOHMMpdpGx2Vc6aVIKBb8izeSHguYEVO6qN/s1600/c4910d3f3e5fd8a4a774dfe083c76b11.jpg" height="279" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When my just-turned-18 year old daughter asked if she could go to Melbourne for a night with a group of friends, 42 year old me at first said "Hell, no". After several discussions she got permission to go but only after I questioned her for details, rang the motel they were all staying at, checked on who else was going, lectured her on the possible dangers of drinking and going out in the city and the importance of sticking together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A little whisper in my ear was again reminding me of how, just one month after turning 18, I announced I was going away for a weekend with my boyfriend, and that there was nothing my parents could do to stop me. I was bold enough to go, to just expect that I had every right in the world to do as I pleased and that they would just have to get over it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm pretty sure that 18 year old me is a bit shocked at all the seriousness of this parenting gig. She's certain that this isn't at all like we had imagined. I think she thinks I'm a bit of a bore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But that's because she's 18, and she doesn't know what I know now.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">-x--x--x--x--x--x--x-</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What would your 18 year old self say to you now? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Mondays I love to linkup with <a href="http://www.myhometruths.com/" target="_blank">Kirsty from My Home Truth</a>s for I Must Confess.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She is having a teensy little break from blogging so I am hosting the I Must Confess linkup this week. Please join in - add you post confessing anything, or just sharing what's going on in your day. We love to see new faces so add your link and have fun visiting the other blogs. xx</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Prompt for next weeks I Must Confess Post is <span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">'If I could go back to one single moment in my life, it would be...' hosted by Emma at <a href="http://fivedegreesofchaos.com/">fivedegreesofchaos.com</a> ... get typing bloggy friends.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm also Linking with <a href="http://onemotherhen.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">One Mother Hen for Open Slather </a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMb3LB_Pb5SOf_ekSGxWJTpEPho9UjV8J82UXJObCyNEVuSGOydw1fmWa5XzLxUx14N5RF2rHl2orWJg3W6SJCCare-owb4JYT2_JjgJqK63Forg7UNi-9c-iNYAh4aKis5JlnBIEY4Q6B/s1600/spiders.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMb3LB_Pb5SOf_ekSGxWJTpEPho9UjV8J82UXJObCyNEVuSGOydw1fmWa5XzLxUx14N5RF2rHl2orWJg3W6SJCCare-owb4JYT2_JjgJqK63Forg7UNi-9c-iNYAh4aKis5JlnBIEY4Q6B/s1600/spiders.jpg" height="320" width="262" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fear is a strange thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It can take perfectly normal, sensible people and turn them into shrieking toddlers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are degrees of fear.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A general feeling of disquiet over a thought or possible event.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anxiety and worry about our loved ones. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A raised heart rate, dry mouth, wide eyes....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then there is the 'fight or flight' adrenaline pumping full blown : Holy sh*t I'm about to lose it, jumping around like a ninja kind of fear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel it when I think about snakes. When I get surprised by a picture of one, the idea of one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I wrote about my INTENSE fear of snakes in <a href="http://www.buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2013/11/snakes-alive.html" target="_blank">Snakes Alive</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I understand the feeling, the fear, the irrationality of the reaction. I understand the superpowers a person can instantly develop in their need to escape. I want to vomit at the notion that one might be in the backyard, near my kids or my animals (or me!). I will argue loudly that snakes should all be rounded up and sent to the Galapagos Islands. Far away from me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And yet, weirdly when someone else is experiencing that same level of fear, over something that doesn't really bother me, it's hard not to find their reaction hilarious.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Thursday night my friend came to visit for a while, we chatted, made some plans...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then she got ready to go home. I walked her out to her car in the cold winter darkness. She climbed into the drivers seat, flicked her hair and promptly LOST HER MIND !</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have never seen anyone climb out of a car so quickly, she leapt over the centre console, levitated across the passenger seat and threw herself out the door on the other side of the car all while shrieking like a fire alarm. A spider which, according to her ,was "as big as a walrus" had dropped past her hand.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVAvasFKebOPNQIBHG_EPLt7hTD2hHloyrQBSKorHeLImerTfn-VOzGdKy3CQQicDBYtLsHv_zUd0_xUKyb-VcZItbTr-pWMvcrXnYNZS5ZwqM1OSwCHDGgcmzqhTuQLgg4ANHY6IyZ0wM/s1600/walrus3gp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVAvasFKebOPNQIBHG_EPLt7hTD2hHloyrQBSKorHeLImerTfn-VOzGdKy3CQQicDBYtLsHv_zUd0_xUKyb-VcZItbTr-pWMvcrXnYNZS5ZwqM1OSwCHDGgcmzqhTuQLgg4ANHY6IyZ0wM/s1600/walrus3gp.jpg" height="187" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.conceptart.org/forums/showthread.php/66518-DSG-1063-Creature-LARGE-ARCTIC-SPIDER-HAS-HEAVY-BLUBBERY-WALRUS-LIKE-FLESH" target="_blank"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">source</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is the point when you would think that as a caring friend I would have be gentle and caring, soothing and full of compassion. And I would have been, had I not been laughing so hard I nearly peed my pants. There she is begging "Lisa, Lisa, you have to find it. Now, You have to !" And I'm snorting, doubled over in the middle of the road. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Eventually I found some composure. The spider had of course taken itself into a small dark corner and I couldn't find it. We sprayed an entire can of fly spray in the car, closed the doors and she took my car home. The next morning I checked again and returned her car to her, twitching from the nerve gas lingering in the car. I had checked under the seats, flipped down all the sun visors, searched in the glove box and found no spidery evilness. No doubt the poor little thing jumped out of the car as quickly as she did and went to find more welcoming accommodations. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwZ3yhjroR0d48YqcOvxo3ajQwBdc9NKyPiFvL7rmAFY-Dm4vVJJlSUivu_Q-i-R1CUu_oYHMNs9jY5lcW-fZp-ARkkLt9Y6pIBAUUaZiCaFuf0iJ3OJAr2Jo3-kLTd16zkXyNlv5B_Vx/s1600/funny-gif-spider-running-scared.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwZ3yhjroR0d48YqcOvxo3ajQwBdc9NKyPiFvL7rmAFY-Dm4vVJJlSUivu_Q-i-R1CUu_oYHMNs9jY5lcW-fZp-ARkkLt9Y6pIBAUUaZiCaFuf0iJ3OJAr2Jo3-kLTd16zkXyNlv5B_Vx/s1600/funny-gif-spider-running-scared.gif" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's why we are friends. I will take over when walrus spiders attack her, and she will protect me when nasty evil snakes cross my path. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because that's what friends are for.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What is your irrational fear? Have you ever had to face it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Linking up this week with Raychael from<a href="http://www.msmysterycase.com/2014/07/a-mystery-case-confession-my-biggest.html" target="_blank"> Ms Mystery Case for I Must Confess</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Please visit Raychael for more bloggy confessions, and the prompt for next weeks <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18.200000762939453px;">exposé.</span></span></div>
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<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-68701601043720980642014-07-23T16:48:00.001+10:002014-07-23T16:48:24.892+10:00Sticky Tape<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This morning as I was getting myself and our household on track for the day, Miss 10 went to the stationery drawer and found the clear sticky tape. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As her room is already overflowing with crafty bits and pieces pilfered from that drawer, I stopped her and told her whatever she needed to tape up, she should bring it out to the table & do it there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I kept going with morning tasks in the kitchen. I could hear the sound of sticky tape being pulled off. Gosh she was using a lot of it. I turned around to find her happily sticky taping her tragically broken sneakers together for sport! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1mPa46j6pLQov37JbwNskgB3a5rf4aHKE0bwMD7jFGpPoxixmmojYe6UPPkRM3OOp2KwqNYYJaRBU5anxzkPFrJCNcEq9Ku1MTnwRhy8Uy7qJwuXs4EjA_W_pqyFyPMp_YX1B2G7ozbz/s1600/shoes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1mPa46j6pLQov37JbwNskgB3a5rf4aHKE0bwMD7jFGpPoxixmmojYe6UPPkRM3OOp2KwqNYYJaRBU5anxzkPFrJCNcEq9Ku1MTnwRhy8Uy7qJwuXs4EjA_W_pqyFyPMp_YX1B2G7ozbz/s1600/shoes.jpg" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I died ! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Firstly, how completely and innocently unpretentious is she, that she didn't even think to ask for new sneakers? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Secondly, obviously I've been parenting with blinkers on for a few months, cos I had no idea the state they were in ! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We raced to the local department store before school started and bought new sneakers, and sticky tape. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just another Mother Of The Year moment ! </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2GPfvyMLajxgY65rTAjEVcmq_QBOqv0aopTKpZaEc2kbd1z5YrD5OPjqCMdvBoD-496LgumnLnbuw4-PUTs-kWV-PstrdV72Ujibd2ybl90vL4qeY6S7XzokPrGoWkasMShtPCG7j-cVw/s1600/mother.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2GPfvyMLajxgY65rTAjEVcmq_QBOqv0aopTKpZaEc2kbd1z5YrD5OPjqCMdvBoD-496LgumnLnbuw4-PUTs-kWV-PstrdV72Ujibd2ybl90vL4qeY6S7XzokPrGoWkasMShtPCG7j-cVw/s1600/mother.gif" height="317" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-53513446412048832532014-07-21T12:14:00.001+10:002014-08-10T11:08:35.977+10:00Dealing with Teenagers<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I must confess, when we decided to start our family at the tender ages of 21 and 22, we planned a pregnancy. A baby, maybe we projected far enough to toddler-hood and the first year of school. But honestly, most of the "Let's start a family" discussion was really "Let's have a baby".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But babies have a strange little habit of growing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And they become tantruming toddlers, and boundary pushing children. They become smelly and busy school kids. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then... then they become teenagers.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dealing with teenagers can be fun and funny, it can be enlightening, rewarding and awesome. It can also drive you demented and make you want to stab yourself in the eye with a teaspoon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Trying to communicate with teenagers and anticipate their moods is a hit and miss game of epic proportion.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can't remember a day in the past 4 years when at least one of my teens wasn't defensive, moody and offended by something I said.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I know I know, just let it go... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">... except it's bloody hard to keep on trucking through the bewildering and unpredictable spurts of anger and still lovingly care for the large darlings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today in the space of an hour I managed to annoy Miss 18 by asking her to write her work shifts on the calendar ( you know, so I can DRIVE HER TO WORK ! )</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am now receiving the silent treatment from Miss 16 because I bought the wrong sort of bread ( actually someone else bought the bread but apparently I am the Grand Pooh Bah of food stuffs in our home so the buck stops here). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Someone called the house asking for him, so I made the outrageous decision to wake Mr 20 at 8am and clearly he's not appreciating the gesture, given the huffing and muttering from his bedroom.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And Miss 10 , a newly minted tween as of last Thursday has begun teen-practice, so she was truly angry, sulky and generally unpleasant because she had to brush her hair for school.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Right now, the only ones in the house who aren't displeased with me are the fluffy four legged members.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(actually the cat doesn't like me much either).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Linking up with <a href="http://helpstuck.blogspot.com.au/" target="_blank">Ann from Help I'm Stuck</a> for I Must Confess Monday, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">holiday hosting for lovely<a href="http://www.myhometruths.com/" target="_blank"> Kirsty</a> who is having a much deserved break xx</span><br />
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buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-10644501095829905722014-07-18T11:00:00.002+10:002014-07-18T11:55:36.875+10:00AUTISM ALERT - free printable<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am blessed that in our home autism has not significantly compromised the safety of our family members, but many families with an autistic loved one have to make plans for emergencies.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One thing I'd not really thought about was alerting emergency responders to the fact that a person with autism is present.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The more I think about it, the more I can see how essential it would be to be able to let a police officer entering your home know that a person with autism lives there. That they may not respond to verbal commands. They may be non-compliant THROUGH NO FAULT OF THEIR OWN.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I think about the urgency of letting responders to a car accident know that an person with autism may have been in the car. That they may resist help, or they might have run away and be hiding in nearby bushes or buildings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have seen alerts available, most requiring ordering ( & payment) and shipping.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have made a free printable and I am more than happy for you to share it far and wide, sharing is caring xxx</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjehHrNpqHB1bxTphh-putkYbxXB_Xo4HBVgMgyJgC3itIrc9AE54K4mgZZY2UZ8HFBmBkwnZQFcvKix9ACsqZOiJkEfXVEnyhiS0WXQD8d1gndWBcQqdJBB76q4MYmLSkgLJrENghj6zPu/s1600/autism+alert+pic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjehHrNpqHB1bxTphh-putkYbxXB_Xo4HBVgMgyJgC3itIrc9AE54K4mgZZY2UZ8HFBmBkwnZQFcvKix9ACsqZOiJkEfXVEnyhiS0WXQD8d1gndWBcQqdJBB76q4MYmLSkgLJrENghj6zPu/s1600/autism+alert+pic.JPG" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.mediafire.com/?x7jtihs7eb5x47j" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: large;">CLICK HERE </span></a>to go to the free PDF download, hosted through a safe file storage Mediafire. ( the pic here is just to show you what it looks like, not high enough resolution for printing) </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have made two sizes, one that is about half the size of a piece of A4 paper, perfect for putting at the front door to alert visitors and a smaller version that could go in a car window without obstructing driving vision. Print them out and laminate them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Given with love x</span><br />
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buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-68952392279237411602014-07-17T11:28:00.000+10:002014-07-17T11:28:51.483+10:00Littlest turns 10 today - Thankful ThursdayIt's Thursday, Thankful Thursday.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvJJXw_iPejc-WWU-L6IKGw5BzOOLCEvO9UbOHIvwHKsA37jRupKmL3IB_jCRBvZLGlfIyaJmjYiYH6flS7BsA0UYf5wnAJBmz-TnvTwrQFzWSm8jKEDpTod6j4WTTfWZhtm5HecOvW9I/s1600/thankful.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirvJJXw_iPejc-WWU-L6IKGw5BzOOLCEvO9UbOHIvwHKsA37jRupKmL3IB_jCRBvZLGlfIyaJmjYiYH6flS7BsA0UYf5wnAJBmz-TnvTwrQFzWSm8jKEDpTod6j4WTTfWZhtm5HecOvW9I/s1600/thankful.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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I don't have to look too far.<br />
My littlest baby is ten today.<br />
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I am so very Thankful to have her in my life, she makes me laugh and cry, she grabs my heart and twists me around her not so little fingers.<br />
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She is home from school, sick with a temperature and a sore throat. The bonus of that is having a day to play with your new presents, to have complete control of the remote control, and to help Mum make the birthday cake.<br />
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The other bonus is I get to just watch her, today and marvel at how a teeny tiny whisper of a wish has turned into this beautiful girl. I am thankful.<br />
Thankful for her and all she brings to my life.<br />
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Now commencing gratuitous photo sharing :-)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvgMrcFknRL_B1a-f5X12uRfFxO4rJvqXuJjPJYkNVVS3DbuJ8-mIM04_88wMGcps1SIuDsv4y34ELVrZpwPxrGiXwqxx_Y-FtFy1S0g0bmVD8rILNmYhWCK53Mn3tAUOeDQkdiZ0YHeO/s1600/first.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXvgMrcFknRL_B1a-f5X12uRfFxO4rJvqXuJjPJYkNVVS3DbuJ8-mIM04_88wMGcps1SIuDsv4y34ELVrZpwPxrGiXwqxx_Y-FtFy1S0g0bmVD8rILNmYhWCK53Mn3tAUOeDQkdiZ0YHeO/s1600/first.jpg" height="640" width="475" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-nKQ2KVFdoqn6jh3H6JQdfd9hJb3r6mRn834LcvLG9v3KsIISU5sudc7I1LGMnk0HI6tvtzgqhRCGHCYx6QWFXRq_Q0kmOqmD41YZtdsyBx4EuJeQAyVo8paT3h1AFW3nZu42sfTQSVqS/s1600/middle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-nKQ2KVFdoqn6jh3H6JQdfd9hJb3r6mRn834LcvLG9v3KsIISU5sudc7I1LGMnk0HI6tvtzgqhRCGHCYx6QWFXRq_Q0kmOqmD41YZtdsyBx4EuJeQAyVo8paT3h1AFW3nZu42sfTQSVqS/s1600/middle.jpg" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaHtPXDFmiOdv0huumPjlbzB2d4eCkHG9aPTg0EqYrtBuzjnzxTNV3A8seofdw0Wvyk4EaqC3SWWM1AsU-3_iI2x5GPnPcgUhq0OG4OxKyz_oUNwkxucpngKNZBy2KWnnIBkEjKYLjyZD/s1600/now.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuaHtPXDFmiOdv0huumPjlbzB2d4eCkHG9aPTg0EqYrtBuzjnzxTNV3A8seofdw0Wvyk4EaqC3SWWM1AsU-3_iI2x5GPnPcgUhq0OG4OxKyz_oUNwkxucpngKNZBy2KWnnIBkEjKYLjyZD/s1600/now.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-19138615844078836842014-07-14T10:04:00.001+10:002014-07-14T10:26:06.490+10:00A House Divided <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our home is clearly divided. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Four who do and two who do not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm on the larger team, and as far as I can tell, there is nothing remotely attractive about crossing to the other side.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7CJ8K_bNAjOSSnXweExf4wiVC3Xvwtut4qS0PmGNiCA0vQedZZg6itFePSs5iKk77_Gb3JTYNnjkqGbW-OoxONBWEz3uWsUTjKouxVqsSBmrF9IlTtFxAAni1kKfbNIN2gJDRvwDzJTus/s1600/286307714_1381539083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7CJ8K_bNAjOSSnXweExf4wiVC3Xvwtut4qS0PmGNiCA0vQedZZg6itFePSs5iKk77_Gb3JTYNnjkqGbW-OoxONBWEz3uWsUTjKouxVqsSBmrF9IlTtFxAAni1kKfbNIN2gJDRvwDzJTus/s1600/286307714_1381539083.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.bubblews.com/news/1318667-sleeping-in" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">photo credit</span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Four Sleeper-Inners. (Sleeper Innerers. Sleep Inners, people who stay asleep after the crack of dawn)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On my team I am the captain, after many years experience of that delicious snooze-state. I love the blissful moment when you emerge out of a deep sleep, remember that there is nothing urgent on the calendar for today, and roll over to submerge into dreams again. Heaven!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">J-man is 20 ( holy shamoly, my heart stutters when I write that number.. 20 ! But I digress) .. ahem J-man perfected the art of sleeping in around the age of 12 and has refined his skills to the point where we are lucky to see him before lunchtime.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0cjQgp2Pnnk_s_zxlKOcUk9MJRY3nGDBk_nfi01QZ-lFfbvHYBHNsJwfXQIUIBljg9yoBv4EwFabzEVLp7TgVfocdGOCdOR0F6rMCGfcqn30OzXr4NG6ghbgm1pk9y3TiBsbMbrX3WNg/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf0cjQgp2Pnnk_s_zxlKOcUk9MJRY3nGDBk_nfi01QZ-lFfbvHYBHNsJwfXQIUIBljg9yoBv4EwFabzEVLp7TgVfocdGOCdOR0F6rMCGfcqn30OzXr4NG6ghbgm1pk9y3TiBsbMbrX3WNg/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Miss 16 has been sleeping in since a similar age, she works hardest at it on days when she has stuff to do, like.. school. But on the weekend, she will slumber away until she can hear the sounds of morning tea or her frantic Facebook updates become too urgent to ignore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Miss 9 may not actually sleep in all the time ( although she regularly hits 9am before she opens her eyes) but she understands the importance of a leisurely rising. Playing on her iPod, reading in bed, talking to her dolls. She is that rare blessing of a child who waits until someone tells her she can get up.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79P4_1Y0mGgMirUXIAcpGVgl5eJP2fzf_qI5s-CU4P3KdRez_HvNvK3CnPoAgToApniJTLm0AMf0m_1EIHADZbyACNX5Gj_RRkljATo-FuIpBxYutAVBeDJwvuaKweFaEB4RdXXlM8Dam/s1600/mornings.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79P4_1Y0mGgMirUXIAcpGVgl5eJP2fzf_qI5s-CU4P3KdRez_HvNvK3CnPoAgToApniJTLm0AMf0m_1EIHADZbyACNX5Gj_RRkljATo-FuIpBxYutAVBeDJwvuaKweFaEB4RdXXlM8Dam/s1600/mornings.jpg" height="346" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Leading the opposing team of Annoyingly Cheerful Early Risers is The Man I Married. He jumps out of bed at the first break of dawn, happy, chipper and annoyingly loud. He makes a coffee LOUDLY,he munches toast LOUDLY, he greets the dogs LOUDLY, he ponders what he'd like to do today with them LOUDLY. He is crazy enough to get up at 6 am on a sleep-in-able morning to pop down to the gym for an hour. He is tinkering in the garage by 8 am. Mowing the lawn by 9am. A ridiculously chipper morning person. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKxaPFyZYRUnxRKdb6O7Ojm47ewwK7Gm2v-mTBDU_D33BXRTz1OYLBtMcmfZJOnTZAKJNLYCBSmCGFzX8e1ygnJwp30G15mzpoSmL6FytzuvzBcyPmNoEYdW6iAEwraDROC8_QEJtQw1A/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKxaPFyZYRUnxRKdb6O7Ojm47ewwK7Gm2v-mTBDU_D33BXRTz1OYLBtMcmfZJOnTZAKJNLYCBSmCGFzX8e1ygnJwp30G15mzpoSmL6FytzuvzBcyPmNoEYdW6iAEwraDROC8_QEJtQw1A/s1600/download.jpg" height="341" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Miss 18 is also a morning person. She is much more quiet than her Dad, but she is often in the kitchen by 7 am, sweet and cheerful. She does go back into her room and tried to not disturb Those Who Won't Wake. She accepts my grunts and growls and brings coffee to soothe the morning beasties. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATQ9oPd5Ootvjjw9yHnfj2Fhc3euAHcql0Mmt9_wi8tqPylOByfNZT5DCix6pNhxmZz0vtRTpSZ5WHlMvHvvm9AgfGzG50iKtSOhSJGAO5kEBn9WNI0gQ1H9-AVOyW3KhDkY-S-NWw9S_/s1600/5f9db289d7975d2135aba19a9796831c.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgATQ9oPd5Ootvjjw9yHnfj2Fhc3euAHcql0Mmt9_wi8tqPylOByfNZT5DCix6pNhxmZz0vtRTpSZ5WHlMvHvvm9AgfGzG50iKtSOhSJGAO5kEBn9WNI0gQ1H9-AVOyW3KhDkY-S-NWw9S_/s1600/5f9db289d7975d2135aba19a9796831c.jpg" height="400" width="297" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Back in the days of three wee small children ( and Miss 9 was just an idea) sleep-ins were but an elusive dream. Now they are attainable and plenty, I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why anyone would deny themselves the glorious pleasure. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcxwMakg1GHub8ehRk-zeh4rzje0SPUIR2StxholUFK4mciJJHCrZltSOFcC7bUUhvpGhPZA34Szzal6xrJnnBPatcua0BXTffli_c682xqJPAzHLzwDbAe-41sxIOFwmKJP0oUkhvTFw/s1600/mornings+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUcxwMakg1GHub8ehRk-zeh4rzje0SPUIR2StxholUFK4mciJJHCrZltSOFcC7bUUhvpGhPZA34Szzal6xrJnnBPatcua0BXTffli_c682xqJPAzHLzwDbAe-41sxIOFwmKJP0oUkhvTFw/s1600/mornings+(1).jpg" height="252" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Which team are you on ?</span><br />
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buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-34086977393545200012014-07-11T11:20:00.000+10:002014-07-11T11:23:17.813+10:00Giveaway Ranty-pantsHot on the heels of my last post about my lack of ranty-pants, I'm about to pull on a pair !<br />
Last night VirginMobileAustralia Tweeted this<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrOKBJivdvNd-gfqK1hAPpyWnaAkXn8VENFxfWSktTNnmyOqdGks8yUuvayjUMzqTsPDHDFPKDnfYtJvsJjxW78oVwLwA6p_Kx1UHZaby-B0LY5zDDUa6nDVZZbfoyWD3AN_Un9OR-Glj/s1600/twitter1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrOKBJivdvNd-gfqK1hAPpyWnaAkXn8VENFxfWSktTNnmyOqdGks8yUuvayjUMzqTsPDHDFPKDnfYtJvsJjxW78oVwLwA6p_Kx1UHZaby-B0LY5zDDUa6nDVZZbfoyWD3AN_Un9OR-Glj/s1600/twitter1.JPG" height="310" width="400" /></a></div>
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Pretty nice of them, a generous gesture in a time when so many are going without, living on or below the poverty line. Sure, they get their name out there as well, but all in all, a solid effort to give something to those who are in need.<br />
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So I was really pissed off to see this<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_MY2YDmhy7fvMmipkk7zuGgCurU8BS5e09x76kohs3BrXxUZXe19LNVjBuwOhOxMlovTd0qYRPJ7Fp9rA_1gjJxbbLLAM3sG8LkbKDfx1lLU1RMqP4OBllfSdA_bYJijXApDtqEiabz7/s1600/twitter2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE_MY2YDmhy7fvMmipkk7zuGgCurU8BS5e09x76kohs3BrXxUZXe19LNVjBuwOhOxMlovTd0qYRPJ7Fp9rA_1gjJxbbLLAM3sG8LkbKDfx1lLU1RMqP4OBllfSdA_bYJijXApDtqEiabz7/s1600/twitter2.JPG" height="341" width="400" /></a></div>
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So many of the comments were snarky, mean spirited and just plain rude.<br />
First of all, not a "Hey, that's awesome. thankyou!" But critical of the gesture at all. Critical of the added exposure this would provide to VirginMobileAustralia.<br />
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When did we get to be such a self righteous bunch of arseholes?<br />
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What difference does it make if VirginMobileAusralia gets mentioned a few more times (or lets hope several thousand times) on twitter. I'm pretty certain those who are hungry and in need of a meal couldn't care less.<br />
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The idea behind these comments ( there were many) is that a company or person should give to society silently, without any fanfare and without expecting any kudos. One commenter very proudly tweets that she volunteers and gives and never mentions it ( anywhere except, you know, twitter) .<br />
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Which is lovely for her, in all her holier-than-thou self righteousness. But it doesn't inspire anyone else to join in and volunteer or give. It doesn't invoke a call to action. I'm sure she feels very good about herself but none of her friends know what she does on a Thursday night while she's at the local soup kitchen. For all they know she could be pole-dancing . Just maybe, if she told her friends what she was doing, one or two of them would volunteer as well.<br />
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We need big companies to give, to be generous, to extend a helping hand in what ever way they can. We need them to inspire other companies to do the same.<br />
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Companies are businesses. They need to make a profit to stay in business. To justify giving something away, there needs to be a return to the business. Better social media exposure is the prize in our media heavy world. So many companies gain this by running giveaways like a holiday, a car, gift vouchers. Every time I go on Facebook or Twitter my newsfeed is guaranteed to have a giveaway posts, all increasing the positive social reach of airlines, cruiselines, phone companies, electrical stores, dog foods manufacturers... <br />
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Those giveaway posts are shared, re-shared and re-re-shared by thousands, happily, all hoping that maybe they will be the lucky winner. Nobody is bitching and moaning about the companies ulterior motives. Nobody rants that the company is only giving something away to gain popularity.<br />
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Is it just because there is no chance of personal gain by the reader that Virgin's offer has so offended people? It's still a giveaway, just not to them. It's the same amount of social media exposure, but no possible benefit to the angry people.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4G7LiWo3jHITMhzXzRBUd9sQdHYQk4LdJsbKI_c4WOT_P86Slcl5d-9ru8foAzPcZbljRvoo8K4eDpiX2i-cwj1V7mx9TzsoIuSFgYEvumjMMuXyzCNlPbETvAC7Kgz4vfiIDHoApDbmg/s1600/twitter3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4G7LiWo3jHITMhzXzRBUd9sQdHYQk4LdJsbKI_c4WOT_P86Slcl5d-9ru8foAzPcZbljRvoo8K4eDpiX2i-cwj1V7mx9TzsoIuSFgYEvumjMMuXyzCNlPbETvAC7Kgz4vfiIDHoApDbmg/s1600/twitter3.JPG" height="57" width="400" /></a></div>
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I know who I think is the scum here. And it isn't Virgin<br />
<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-59122169470818335532014-07-04T15:21:00.004+10:002014-07-04T15:21:43.905+10:00Back in blog landHello bloggy friends.. It's been weeks since I last posted.<div>
I could lie and say I took a much needed hiatus to reflect and refocus. </div>
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That would be a big fat lie.</div>
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I just haven't really had much to say. The blog world is overflowing with so many people hot on the pulse of every social drama or conflict, every injustice and here I am, wondering what the heck I'm gonna make for dinner, and how on earth I'm going to get all these clothes dry on the middle of a cold wet Victorian winter..?</div>
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Does that make me shallow? That I spend more time thinking about the general comings and goings in our own little house than I do about the greater matters of the universe? Probably.</div>
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But as hard as I try I just can't get on board with constant social outrage that seems to be fuelling the greater portion of blogging land at the moment. I'd rather have a laugh at something silly, or admire something gorgeous. </div>
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I'm the one posting goofy pictures of a cat who missed the window sill.</div>
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I'm the one saying "Nawwww" at the fluffy baby bunnies.</div>
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I'm the one chuckling at this and forwarding it to everyone I know who grew up watching the Muppet Show</div>
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( Hahhaaaaa , you just read that using the chef's accent, didn't you!)</div>
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So for a while I've wondered if I should be bothered with this blogging thing, because I really don't seem to fit the norm. I'm not deep and meaningful ( I have short bursts of that but nothing sustained). </div>
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I'm not a 'Mummy Blogger", I'm fairly old fashioned in what I think is appropriate in public.... and I don't have my ranty pants on twice weekly.</div>
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But I've decided that I will keep doing it, because I like it. And if my non-ranty posts amuse someone, that's lovely.</div>
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I'll leave the social rants to someone else.</div>
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xx</div>
buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-37041019732403507752014-05-15T15:35:00.002+10:002014-05-15T20:51:14.165+10:00 Happy Birthday to our sweet girlIn a totally self indulgent photograph heavy Thankful Thursday Post , I am THANKFUL today for my beautiful daughter who turns 18 today.<br />
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From the minute we knew she was on her way, she has been the softest whisper in my heart, a gentle and forgiving soul.<br />
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<span style="text-align: start;">She has been the sweetest smile on my saddest day and she never ceases to amaze me with her creativity and her kindness.</span></div>
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I look at the woman she is today and it just takes my breath away, that this lovely young lady has grown from our bumbling attempts at parenthood.<br />
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEET GIRL.</div>
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May all your dreams come true, just like ours did.</div>
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XXX</div>
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Thankful Thursday xx <br />
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<a href="http://www.aparentinglife.com/search/label/Thankful%20Thursday" style="color: #4c1130; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Thankful Thursday with APL"><img alt="Thankful Thursday with APL" src="http://i1186.photobucket.com/albums/z380/lourhi/ThankfulThursdaybutton_zpsba8927f7.png" style="border: none; position: relative;" /></a></div>
<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-41450932153158314682014-04-06T09:53:00.001+10:002014-04-06T10:19:18.097+10:00Daylight savings - Save me!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Daylight Savings ended last night.. a whole extra hour to stay snuggled in bed snoozing. Bliss!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Except that The Man I Married missed the teenage lesson on how to sleep in, so at 6.30am - which today became 5.30am , he woke up and decided to get up. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Woke the dogs up and had a loud chat with them, banged around in the kitchen, turned on the TV and flicked channels.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Grrrrrrr.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">GRRRRRR!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I don't know about you, but once I'm awake and disturbed I can't go back to sleep so there we both were, awake, nursing cups of coffee at 5.30am. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I retreated into Computer land, mostly because I wasn't sure I could speak in pleasant sentences to the overgrown two year bouncing around on the couch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I understand you are possibly sick of me raving about my refound designing mojo, but once you get something back that you loved, it's hard to squish that kind of Happy down. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So here's what I made yesterday afternoon, and what you can feel free to download.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbj2m773-53wXDIZF-AoXyTZZKVgy78BK8SEv9kJc4ZiqoaiMue8jaZjQ1rfo2lSC8I6Yf-W_UnW-rbitZpKvAYv6g08f9z_yr4Mj8aIMVat1tC4ZXWGRN219T2993flGJ5zFNlhWoDGAj/s1600/bunnybox1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbj2m773-53wXDIZF-AoXyTZZKVgy78BK8SEv9kJc4ZiqoaiMue8jaZjQ1rfo2lSC8I6Yf-W_UnW-rbitZpKvAYv6g08f9z_yr4Mj8aIMVat1tC4ZXWGRN219T2993flGJ5zFNlhWoDGAj/s1600/bunnybox1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcIMBGi0UmnVHn19ZjqA0AC_q_SwxZ7fHkLF_Zioqv7L-KpnBasgG68GG9cwtmcI5L2ClJRog-FDD4UphNKDrZMgbIvryIAQn76vmuFwWIsgRirKcP3f79WPrU-rZUAZn2rKx8YG3enbZC/s1600/bunnybox2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcIMBGi0UmnVHn19ZjqA0AC_q_SwxZ7fHkLF_Zioqv7L-KpnBasgG68GG9cwtmcI5L2ClJRog-FDD4UphNKDrZMgbIvryIAQn76vmuFwWIsgRirKcP3f79WPrU-rZUAZn2rKx8YG3enbZC/s1600/bunnybox2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How cute is that ? This makes up into a little Easter Bunny Treasure box about 6.5cm high, perfect for a few Cadbury Eggs as a sweet little gift for someone.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadi-_MJlPf6f8cFkzLk84-CB72KZ967M6I2XH0G4KitDy6FyNroPzrFUmYakT-_mi4K6E4cjIW9BODt7dv00JYbGkr8yf6P__SpiMVsGbx37ojOrUkoAb26la6gEm0ErlX7Gp_lQClOb8/s1600/Easter+Bunny+Box+Printable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgadi-_MJlPf6f8cFkzLk84-CB72KZ967M6I2XH0G4KitDy6FyNroPzrFUmYakT-_mi4K6E4cjIW9BODt7dv00JYbGkr8yf6P__SpiMVsGbx37ojOrUkoAb26la6gEm0ErlX7Gp_lQClOb8/s1600/Easter+Bunny+Box+Printable.jpg" height="400" width="276" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You can grab the PDF to<span style="color: red;"> <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/view/rotaea83rsj7tc6/Easter_Bunny_Box_Printable.pdf" target="_blank">print it out HERE</a> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't just click and save this little picture as you box will be too tiny :-)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You basically cut around the outside edge, score all the solid lines with the back of a butter knife and a ruler and fold into the box shape, adding a lick of glue along the tab line to hold it together.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The bottom interweaves which gives it a little extra strength, and you can secure it with a bit of tape if you are loading the box with heavier items.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjmKfTgy7wBE_4QghyphenhyphenBZpP0OPzhbNoohafb7TvCz2i_ubE1XyTjXtEWpeObHNDERqRpyr3rgVWsEV4PKrbihX__NixO7e0MRXhQ1dMXsHLnNNmZBhe-lTyiBW-j42a8sRxFk3I0OrWX0H/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjmKfTgy7wBE_4QghyphenhyphenBZpP0OPzhbNoohafb7TvCz2i_ubE1XyTjXtEWpeObHNDERqRpyr3rgVWsEV4PKrbihX__NixO7e0MRXhQ1dMXsHLnNNmZBhe-lTyiBW-j42a8sRxFk3I0OrWX0H/s1600/unnamed.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This mornings ridiculously EARLY start gave me time and head space to play a little more, so I made a second box... just in case you aren't into bunnies - although I don't even know how that is possible because :</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphenn_GU_0YQzf60nQu053CJ9gtVNYAsaY8RO1qtmKZm-2OPwAJgMYFoXDzFfx70NjUnsVeH003IMeRn8jF4kOrCgAVhACV3ztEtq4xGC3TDETDFeswfobzbHf6epRdbJHWbLZDmTLC5Igb/s1600/bunny3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhyphenhyphenn_GU_0YQzf60nQu053CJ9gtVNYAsaY8RO1qtmKZm-2OPwAJgMYFoXDzFfx70NjUnsVeH003IMeRn8jF4kOrCgAVhACV3ztEtq4xGC3TDETDFeswfobzbHf6epRdbJHWbLZDmTLC5Igb/s1600/bunny3.jpg" height="400" width="297" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Back to Box Making :</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So this morning I made this:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCmJMxB3ZWlDz9Kg4LW9Hmfbr3WVUWjh_4aAl6ImCDjcGfgtZXsyMCZyRG-Raiien_QDbFRCwnamsJPJlTTuVX_qZUuhMCd5zG1usBEOcslpmAsxW64npomNRiHvzGzUC8UFAgdgCcmKB/s1600/eggbox1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeCmJMxB3ZWlDz9Kg4LW9Hmfbr3WVUWjh_4aAl6ImCDjcGfgtZXsyMCZyRG-Raiien_QDbFRCwnamsJPJlTTuVX_qZUuhMCd5zG1usBEOcslpmAsxW64npomNRiHvzGzUC8UFAgdgCcmKB/s1600/eggbox1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgluB5XwEWuET_qVaVXnhbWgEGLvVE7bz5C-gnZ-9tJQ_-w3LbJKpSvRg54oaykWcbXGQWHFDE-3_4PicRs7WsTr3inH2zR1J1HdhdWHHxlgG2xJtodJBcmcX-hwXFNzP1Xnd-O2MhvlDKS/s1600/eggbox2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgluB5XwEWuET_qVaVXnhbWgEGLvVE7bz5C-gnZ-9tJQ_-w3LbJKpSvRg54oaykWcbXGQWHFDE-3_4PicRs7WsTr3inH2zR1J1HdhdWHHxlgG2xJtodJBcmcX-hwXFNzP1Xnd-O2MhvlDKS/s1600/eggbox2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Same deal, different pictures, a little brighter and funkier...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIBO_EV41-A3JhF0LbHuK55PUMW_6L30vYio9A9Ov4rj-g4LmPGlr4_yzkSwIB8w07XOus3b_Ey5FrgO49YDgZsxU56iwlT7X1Z7h9kq1XJV-2oQJjxGovKf-6DCl7ohJIduDIdyEBZtU/s1600/Easter+Egg+Box+Printable.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjIBO_EV41-A3JhF0LbHuK55PUMW_6L30vYio9A9Ov4rj-g4LmPGlr4_yzkSwIB8w07XOus3b_Ey5FrgO49YDgZsxU56iwlT7X1Z7h9kq1XJV-2oQJjxGovKf-6DCl7ohJIduDIdyEBZtU/s1600/Easter+Egg+Box+Printable.jpg" height="400" width="276" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You can grab the PDF to <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/view/69ijplbh99x0sb9/Easter_Egg_Box_printable.pdf" target="_blank">print it out HERE</a></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In case you can't tell, I'm having alot of fun!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What time did your little or big treasures get out of bed this morning?</span><br />
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buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-4131926485958112062014-04-04T06:36:00.000+11:002014-04-04T06:36:42.438+11:00Would you like some chocolate with that?<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One thing the USA is famous for is doing everything to the extreme.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They do Extreme Fishing, Extreme Mining, Extreme Cars, Extreme Abseiling..Extreme Cake Decorating, Extreme Weddings, Extreme Piercings, Extreme Tattoos, Extreme Makeovers, Extreme Birth Stories... you name it, the USA has it covered.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So in my <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/buttonbrain/" target="_blank">Pinterest Frenzy</a> this week I started on a bit of an Easter binge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Because there are so many awesome pins from people waaaaaaay more dedicated than me to:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Easter decorating</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkgy31pBwABv-3CMLBs2WTsAU2AeUbhIB-MjY-ltsdkK59_HhsK_MX7Cv2YWnHDOI-fc1UUTxzENNQ3Rf5nDFkGfLkCohZxot1GjZgxvuZ3uabeCpa1AE8uipPp_qPyKW2q7i-XjGzOus/s1600/d64c0d6e6a07fa8cd001413b3ccfe640.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBkgy31pBwABv-3CMLBs2WTsAU2AeUbhIB-MjY-ltsdkK59_HhsK_MX7Cv2YWnHDOI-fc1UUTxzENNQ3Rf5nDFkGfLkCohZxot1GjZgxvuZ3uabeCpa1AE8uipPp_qPyKW2q7i-XjGzOus/s1600/d64c0d6e6a07fa8cd001413b3ccfe640.jpg" height="400" width="305" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Easter making</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9Duy5Y3DL9yfhjAd2IH9QYgQzqXXKOJloLAVHWEBV8Mn0wVSi5MV3UDf_6l1NdBMIn7S26ckSsRuIR0w-hzckc6xdRU-v9lgSkqisqmup2m0X5elmtTBx0NT8mMJuRIPOwzLhv_zX9WT/s1600/5e51619463ccecc6cdcbced4c355469f.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9Duy5Y3DL9yfhjAd2IH9QYgQzqXXKOJloLAVHWEBV8Mn0wVSi5MV3UDf_6l1NdBMIn7S26ckSsRuIR0w-hzckc6xdRU-v9lgSkqisqmup2m0X5elmtTBx0NT8mMJuRIPOwzLhv_zX9WT/s1600/5e51619463ccecc6cdcbced4c355469f.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And Easter Baking</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifX3mrmj304vV9zp9cJpmHWhFOImN_-Yy2sJb5wpRsEC1F8Qdhsum54n9diJ0P0g-IRuHFL3f7KqurtkHoFnWyuGa8iNh9G9KRVqEARbQ4Nv4tU2rima3YHKKe6Q7YnMQc1u1v1TeRWAPa/s1600/2d70665f7b4368104c608e0d997aac25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifX3mrmj304vV9zp9cJpmHWhFOImN_-Yy2sJb5wpRsEC1F8Qdhsum54n9diJ0P0g-IRuHFL3f7KqurtkHoFnWyuGa8iNh9G9KRVqEARbQ4Nv4tU2rima3YHKKe6Q7YnMQc1u1v1TeRWAPa/s1600/2d70665f7b4368104c608e0d997aac25.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a>\</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnLF-qUjWmDbCSKGE7wZ1WWiZ9WJcPRTHmat5Hf5xXxgQhFN_XgGIlJZidCxb2VE67J3z9Z0ImEEbyXZvM8gOukIQaCczAbEK16jaZBXNAPYQbP5KzU9JTEtvXs4GA9oxCuB6xwJvH3xE/s1600/a4d317cc23f17798fdf163ce16cb7e42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpnLF-qUjWmDbCSKGE7wZ1WWiZ9WJcPRTHmat5Hf5xXxgQhFN_XgGIlJZidCxb2VE67J3z9Z0ImEEbyXZvM8gOukIQaCczAbEK16jaZBXNAPYQbP5KzU9JTEtvXs4GA9oxCuB6xwJvH3xE/s1600/a4d317cc23f17798fdf163ce16cb7e42.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfR_RXb5OSYZf7ffRW598xgBb1jqin0PC77HbTwsqXGZKjpZQWqzCvQUnFeG7suU6nwURoNNu76S-_5HsiqyxlEpyibffiTbnWkAxXBdyGQ0QdrWsqDrKIpeuRbjwXluiJangrCxN98DLA/s1600/82316846700e6f0d895087a4afee0741.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfR_RXb5OSYZf7ffRW598xgBb1jqin0PC77HbTwsqXGZKjpZQWqzCvQUnFeG7suU6nwURoNNu76S-_5HsiqyxlEpyibffiTbnWkAxXBdyGQ0QdrWsqDrKIpeuRbjwXluiJangrCxN98DLA/s1600/82316846700e6f0d895087a4afee0741.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Seriously ????</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But time and time again I came across USA links to Easter Bunny Bark.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What Is That?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">First of all, the bunny in my house doesn't eat bark - He prefers some short cut alfalfa sprouts, green tips only, a quarter of a freshly harvested carrot and the Spanish dried, late harvested, $35 a pound gooseberries from the island of Rabbit-Nirvana .</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Secondly, the Easter Bunny at my house does not qualify for a stop over snack</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(I thought that was Santa . Milk and cookies or in our case Beer and some peanuts please)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thirdly.. .... ... ... umm ... seriously, you make this stuff for imaginary characters???</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But as it happens, and it happens often, I got converted, sucked in and won over...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">so tonight before ballet....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Miss 9 and me made Easter Bunny Bark.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Basically you chop up some toppings (read : what ever Mum could find leftover on the back of the "saving it for Christmas" cupboard):</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhkljQm0-cQkfWMgzH33HEce9wBsDM8ZElXAIIywCUkjMytxas66hAwXkNqhFcxMsrkhfrjM30KyqW22QzAoPiM3eLk4W0f3W2DDKK1IlJ9g6FeIR7ajqUn0V5_JtyFrzXEirfc_A3NKT/s1600/e1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWhkljQm0-cQkfWMgzH33HEce9wBsDM8ZElXAIIywCUkjMytxas66hAwXkNqhFcxMsrkhfrjM30KyqW22QzAoPiM3eLk4W0f3W2DDKK1IlJ9g6FeIR7ajqUn0V5_JtyFrzXEirfc_A3NKT/s1600/e1.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLJsN84ZZuRU4zH4H5WuAP2iTnARZ9eIvI57t727OucgVNI9hPncCwlogCdkqsaMQs9ZcQMhCoDRnQASN7ikXpq3I3rirGOwhidulJMMUIgITZOhtromj5jy8FUr5CxDYUc5Rf5GVtCgs/s1600/e2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLJsN84ZZuRU4zH4H5WuAP2iTnARZ9eIvI57t727OucgVNI9hPncCwlogCdkqsaMQs9ZcQMhCoDRnQASN7ikXpq3I3rirGOwhidulJMMUIgITZOhtromj5jy8FUr5CxDYUc5Rf5GVtCgs/s1600/e2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You melt some white chocolate into liquid form:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9piBC91AawIcsJkkq_V_hD1DFBZNorwSLi97Pb7WflhCCXBh3NBDuR6UO_Z7FLNhcp704wxQq81jjalwG4U93JkB8Ez7Q9S37hh9HGN-z2UpxQX4t_TJzOQZxH4q9bDpdJ7G6yQC3Jegg/s1600/e3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9piBC91AawIcsJkkq_V_hD1DFBZNorwSLi97Pb7WflhCCXBh3NBDuR6UO_Z7FLNhcp704wxQq81jjalwG4U93JkB8Ez7Q9S37hh9HGN-z2UpxQX4t_TJzOQZxH4q9bDpdJ7G6yQC3Jegg/s1600/e3.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You sprinkle the goodies over the good stuff:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs2Tr5tX96KEmTPoEF1AvXPHMMeQrMEUIiMMtmwrPS1UpX2yHiBizCJaNxZNcIf61Wbn9JZulLN41am3Al_xk_8l0FCSALrdrteMKw2OUYX1WOf3DoSIpVGssVOQ3OERcVeVsKTqghQzz9/s1600/e5+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs2Tr5tX96KEmTPoEF1AvXPHMMeQrMEUIiMMtmwrPS1UpX2yHiBizCJaNxZNcIf61Wbn9JZulLN41am3Al_xk_8l0FCSALrdrteMKw2OUYX1WOf3DoSIpVGssVOQ3OERcVeVsKTqghQzz9/s1600/e5+-+Copy.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6ctrSyOMjfDswhKs2kablhIGFNngyMePDuIrJJzo2pqlfs7D3i_VbnbnT-wcpE19qll7rmRftHat0et-cj5W8KDFR95TKdB3c6y7j7R3RkltVLpPvyZVZSSnJErpQNmpjE-NcwJtW8hJ/s1600/e4+-+Copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6ctrSyOMjfDswhKs2kablhIGFNngyMePDuIrJJzo2pqlfs7D3i_VbnbnT-wcpE19qll7rmRftHat0et-cj5W8KDFR95TKdB3c6y7j7R3RkltVLpPvyZVZSSnJErpQNmpjE-NcwJtW8hJ/s1600/e4+-+Copy.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And smash it all down.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQiixRzawyMs5bwCRztCzVormyafaljUmduwi4oitI-4dCV2bQ716j7DmxaIjz-gW_6lOHJoWA5lri_Qg-8OlewJSBCqHWsg4oCu8LNupsdkaY7EqtEbc_2fsq1v-Mjbus4_zHqUbgcvv/s1600/e6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCQiixRzawyMs5bwCRztCzVormyafaljUmduwi4oitI-4dCV2bQ716j7DmxaIjz-gW_6lOHJoWA5lri_Qg-8OlewJSBCqHWsg4oCu8LNupsdkaY7EqtEbc_2fsq1v-Mjbus4_zHqUbgcvv/s1600/e6.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Cool in the fridge til firm and chop into manageable pieces:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbrWg9vspYSqCuBhy4zqtxk6r_mm8dpEE7NahQ_wwrTw44pWeR1qYXnMCdKEB-liv10sg2nBxvmwwIT9dkiwP1uDiUIYiYqJ6Ll-QoF4ensYvj7pmVGtxaivZAZBGzfqxd5mgFd1lG_eU/s1600/e7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUbrWg9vspYSqCuBhy4zqtxk6r_mm8dpEE7NahQ_wwrTw44pWeR1qYXnMCdKEB-liv10sg2nBxvmwwIT9dkiwP1uDiUIYiYqJ6Ll-QoF4ensYvj7pmVGtxaivZAZBGzfqxd5mgFd1lG_eU/s1600/e7.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy Days!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are so freakin' ready for the Easter Bunny, It's not even funny right now,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">( ** Also I might have Type 2 diabetes from all the sugar I have consumed today. Seriously. ** )</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What have you made that makes your head and blood sugar level spin?</span><br />
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buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-73455686243138497842014-04-03T11:02:00.000+11:002014-04-03T11:19:20.989+11:00Loving the creative process - Easter Swag PrintableOnce upon a time, I made timber buttons for the crafting world. hundreds and thousands of buttons. I designed them, cut them out with my laser machine and then handpainted them.<br />
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My favouritest thing of all was the design process. Getting a spark of an idea, planning and drawing, and tweaking it until I had a final product that I loved. I would get butterflies in my tummy, be so very excited and do little happy dances when a new idea worked out into something really cool.</div>
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Last year, for several reasons, I closed down my little Button world. </div>
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I don't miss the marketing, the advertising or the demands for MORE! I don't miss the pressure to stay 'on-trend' or to stay one step ahead of my competition. I don't miss the mess, the paints, the smell of burning timber. I don't miss customers who wanted to pay $1 for an intricately handpainted angel, and then complained that they could have gone to Spotlight ( for a cheap, mass produced plastic something).</div>
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What I miss is the design process. Time playing with my art program. Fine tuning a design until it is good or even great.</div>
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I miss giving stuff away, I love that feeling. I loved saying "Take it, have it, I want you to have this".</div>
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So today I am very thankful to have rediscovered that spark. The fun.</div>
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In a very basic way, I get to have all the fun of designing with none of the pressure. My art program is run off its feet and my brain is once again swirling with ideas.</div>
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On Monday I made a Printable, as a bit of a personal challenge. A little Easter holiday plan, for anyone who might like to plan some fun times over these school holidays. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizrXKxOL76EadOXBD5AsWUrMNlXdxeaebAGBLnHXNdb0SyYbVak2SGohphJsat0C2uilvF_25jYq9CzejO6W67lcZXnAVUyIP2PQLpD4JVZ702__IEEiKKx2Wq0SCwdOV_onRXmiSPQ-zD/s1600/easter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizrXKxOL76EadOXBD5AsWUrMNlXdxeaebAGBLnHXNdb0SyYbVak2SGohphJsat0C2uilvF_25jYq9CzejO6W67lcZXnAVUyIP2PQLpD4JVZ702__IEEiKKx2Wq0SCwdOV_onRXmiSPQ-zD/s1600/easter.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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You can <span style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/view/58jxbk7k22ativm/Easter_Holiday_Planner.pdf" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">download it here for free</span></a> </span>- Yay!</div>
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On Tuesday I made an Easter Egg swag with Miss 9, pretty simple but also PRETTY!</div>
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So I made that into a printable. Because I can.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/view/4r60ga2tg2w2dxt/Easter_Egg_Swag_Printable_2014.pdf" target="_blank"><img alt=" Printable Easter Egg swag or tags" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0CeP4rlw93RRUzKdTIh8b8gs7rwbDvlpf6V5S20JImiDQfcQqko5cL_euBJDym5PfUVOcNBfh3TFzw2s0eu9lh4f-xjTEvrpf-fnkRyO6xmiczMJTE7mrqaV4vWSrZpnfBlz_uihXQXhb/s1600/buttonbrainswag.jpg" /></a></div>
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It's cute, prints out on A4 paper and is a super simple project to do with your little kiddly-winks over the school holidays.</div>
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<span style="color: red;"><a href="http://www.mediafire.com/view/4r60ga2tg2w2dxt/Easter_Egg_Swag_Printable_2014.pdf" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">Click here to for the free Swag printable</span></a> </span>with simple instructions :-)</div>
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(Super simple = print and cut out, punch some holes, thread them on and hang !)</div>
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Yesterday, I had more fun with my designing... that idea needs a little fine tuning but stay tuned... I sense a storm of printables is on it's way.</div>
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I have that buzz back. The butterflies are dancing. I am feeling the happy. Yay </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHET6KHOUXJ2Y8q18tB70gBdWCZmFmluVidHm9FVSrj7DzQROwYqHlDJlZUgCTcCVyRddh8zn3sr3yMd9Tln76Mp65h2FjUgz3OCdrZezWRqon_5NQfoggumFkBjYY4eCQNY8uCAYWvSS/s1600/img-69709-med.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvHET6KHOUXJ2Y8q18tB70gBdWCZmFmluVidHm9FVSrj7DzQROwYqHlDJlZUgCTcCVyRddh8zn3sr3yMd9Tln76Mp65h2FjUgz3OCdrZezWRqon_5NQfoggumFkBjYY4eCQNY8uCAYWvSS/s1600/img-69709-med.gif" /></a></div>
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Thankful Thursday xx with Lovely Rhi</div>
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<a href="http://www.aparentinglife.com/search/label/Thankful%20Thursday" target="_blank" title="Thankful Thursday with APL"><img alt="Thankful Thursday with APL" src="http://i1186.photobucket.com/albums/z380/lourhi/ThankfulThursdaybutton_zpsba8927f7.png" style="border: none;" /></a></div>
buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-49175580666551294922014-04-02T09:44:00.000+11:002014-04-02T09:44:01.945+11:00World Autism Day - The Carnival Ride<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today Is World Autism Awareness Day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not only do we want to raise awareness amongst the greater community about the challenges of living with Autism, we also want to take today to reflect on the joy and wonder that Autism brings to our world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A couple of years ago I wrote a post about how it feels to find yourself parenting a child with ASD.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am re-posting it today, for Autism Awareness.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Dj4IbGTA6dbsGaa2NDbeqifmDxw9Wp3Sp1OVEg66fxKW8TwOGG9focaVCSC_va25y3o4531agdBRNouJV21G80iMcfhtwXlKDbVMenEbQbdCSyxbLaMPspIC9O8VhRAlTy_j0Q_h5nFO/s1600/aspergers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Dj4IbGTA6dbsGaa2NDbeqifmDxw9Wp3Sp1OVEg66fxKW8TwOGG9focaVCSC_va25y3o4531agdBRNouJV21G80iMcfhtwXlKDbVMenEbQbdCSyxbLaMPspIC9O8VhRAlTy_j0Q_h5nFO/s1600/aspergers.jpg" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Like so many young romantic couples, we bought tickets to go on the Carousel.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8buRjsNeecl65ObM_0qdVtavxXrWx8HRcqlhDTrxv0WoJlUPzs2ZWgUDAuvBfWRWJL-PJTRSk-_DSLiE_mSsihyphenhyphensNbz9L-42Hh1ERvRsHrx5dHGfFxZCSbxIVXEGHaEypj51QNO4wWDKl/s1600/carousel-luna-park-1913-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8buRjsNeecl65ObM_0qdVtavxXrWx8HRcqlhDTrxv0WoJlUPzs2ZWgUDAuvBfWRWJL-PJTRSk-_DSLiE_mSsihyphenhyphensNbz9L-42Hh1ERvRsHrx5dHGfFxZCSbxIVXEGHaEypj51QNO4wWDKl/s1600/carousel-luna-park-1913-1.jpg" height="206" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Many of our friends had already gone on it and said it was great. It looked like fun and we could afford it. We had to wait in line, but we had friends waiting too, so it was a good, gossipy wait, talking about what it would be like.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">When we finally got through the gates, none of our friends were near us.The ride started and almost immediately, we realised that we were on the wrong ride.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Our seats didn't look like the other seats, and the cars banged and crashed and made weird noises. The seat belts pinched and I felt the first tentacles of fear sneaking into my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">A man popped out in a white coat and told us we were on the Monster Crash Roller Coaster. He smiled in a detached way and sent us through the big swinging doors.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCHRs2G2bw_57iykrHgeiNCIr0UvDcOJfc6YNTHbrVwKnvorLjORBXhRc2d0Lp57Kc1TsrZ4mgTQx2wS4Xv9K6GmZ-TwOt_X2qV0Z8uuaid2bJYnJenoCjg556buQCCItVSer1MdJ5H15/s1600/images+(6).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCHRs2G2bw_57iykrHgeiNCIr0UvDcOJfc6YNTHbrVwKnvorLjORBXhRc2d0Lp57Kc1TsrZ4mgTQx2wS4Xv9K6GmZ-TwOt_X2qV0Z8uuaid2bJYnJenoCjg556buQCCItVSer1MdJ5H15/s1600/images+(6).jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The Roller Coaster is not at all like the Carousel. It is unpredictable, frightening and fast. There are exhilarating highs and stomach churning free-fall drops. There is always a jagged corner hurtling towards you and you never really know where you will go next. You can't hear anyone else because there is so much other noise, and sometimes you actually scream in true fear.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPnApP63305KvUSL1SP5-vaRhUo8wGb3NBIRVixaYEkOH0Ba8R_gk12yFYFFA4HPwJh45Cy0iBlrpZ_7oogiIuAJShb9jXxISLs15CpWlqxs28-LDlr-KWONCbOQXDJDPajkuQmWJKSJ_/s1600/images+(8).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPnApP63305KvUSL1SP5-vaRhUo8wGb3NBIRVixaYEkOH0Ba8R_gk12yFYFFA4HPwJh45Cy0iBlrpZ_7oogiIuAJShb9jXxISLs15CpWlqxs28-LDlr-KWONCbOQXDJDPajkuQmWJKSJ_/s1600/images+(8).jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Even with someone sitting right next to you, there are moments when you feel totally and desperately alone. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You can see the carousel in the distance, with it's pretty lights and gentle well groomed ponies.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Your friends are watching you, as you fly through the air, hair tangled, clothes askew. You can't explain to them why you aren't sitting nicely or why you need to hang on so tight. You know from where they sit, you look wild eyed and out of control. You wish you were sitting on a happy little pony, not this monster ride. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">You start to worry that you will not make it to the end. You worry the safety rail will fly open, that your car will derail. You forget to breath. Your stomach churns and your fingers ache with the effort of holding on.You close your eyes and wish for it to be over, to be different.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGleTSNn9o1v51qbDlXyvjmqKTluEYEUsUyeKCsISEz19CndmK1nUzVAHdQmQ0-iRyw0dlwY3dx55m2VeJa1zue3vilwyP3bjvh-SjaAtHQ6_PW_Na2PQkgFlB7yJPpag3epM6sQPd5y22/s1600/roller-coaster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">But then... you stop and really concentrate. Your heart is leaping, not only in fear but also in the most incredible joy. You are starting to anticipate the climb and then the drop. You learn to hang on tight in the scary bits, and you open your eyes and really look at the world from the very peak of the steep climbs.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmn5dR-_c8wDUCgtqrMS-n3WRyH8rlQ23u6kof3BwM1oWCQyw0pmFoB_1u9tMw5aaHBlgBRD1vwa4ZnPyx7Va0sG0WuEw20rIAr7xjnHHuT2I2kNM1HuxPBnPlzcwxRCoCsisY4T0bZShp/s1600/images+(10).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmn5dR-_c8wDUCgtqrMS-n3WRyH8rlQ23u6kof3BwM1oWCQyw0pmFoB_1u9tMw5aaHBlgBRD1vwa4ZnPyx7Va0sG0WuEw20rIAr7xjnHHuT2I2kNM1HuxPBnPlzcwxRCoCsisY4T0bZShp/s1600/images+(10).jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The world looks so different up here, and none of those people on the Carousel can possibly see the world from this angle. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">They have no idea how beautiful it can be up here. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">At the last climb and free fall, you are grinning, eyes wide open. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">As you reach the peak, you let go of the safety bar and raise your hands over your head and welcome the rush.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM86zgh0N9tLxS6hlnLp1J_G35Clf9wPlDgyeefgaQoQ0xP2cayYKgY8B6jYFBVuaHZlo-sXl01J8sDy5ge2Cp85JwZMJXM_HncHhdlA_smW6W5i6011BBQsj8DQ-ERfN930bEZXxnE9_x/s1600/images+(9).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM86zgh0N9tLxS6hlnLp1J_G35Clf9wPlDgyeefgaQoQ0xP2cayYKgY8B6jYFBVuaHZlo-sXl01J8sDy5ge2Cp85JwZMJXM_HncHhdlA_smW6W5i6011BBQsj8DQ-ERfN930bEZXxnE9_x/s1600/images+(9).jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">The ride slows down and we turn to each other, grinning from ear to ear. No, it wasn't the Merry-go-round ride we anticipated. It was so, so much more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">We have since then ridden on the Carousel. It is fun and wonderful too. But there is always a special place in our hearts for the Roller Coaster... what a ride.</span>buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-60500967274379490832014-04-01T06:00:00.000+11:002014-04-01T06:00:00.149+11:00I love a Challenge - Easter Holiday Planner Printable<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg95SEfzFDgzYjyt89AHWqTocGeyfiORvdMThTaMlEAIj3u8D6PbFKrfA170fb4EgrUoTP9NwU9Xidk-L8NAbQYmAOrsEdjO5nJBorC52KSSocCIxaTTMIlJXCzZGo093W4bjW0y4x48AY9/s1600/Blog-easter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg95SEfzFDgzYjyt89AHWqTocGeyfiORvdMThTaMlEAIj3u8D6PbFKrfA170fb4EgrUoTP9NwU9Xidk-L8NAbQYmAOrsEdjO5nJBorC52KSSocCIxaTTMIlJXCzZGo093W4bjW0y4x48AY9/s1600/Blog-easter.jpg" height="640" width="427" /></a></div>
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All over Blogland and Pinterest there are squillions of printables. Downloadable printable templates to fulfill your every need from organising your home, your grocery list or your home budget, to calenders, baby shower gift tags, cookie jar labels and everything in between.<br />
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As you may have figured out, I love a challenge so yesterday I decided to have a go and make my very first Button Brain Printable.<br />
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As the Easter school holidays are hurtling towards us and I have Zip-Zero-Zilch planned as yet, I thought it would be fun ( and terrifically organised of me) if I made up a an Easter holiday planner for Miss 9.<br />
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It took some work & several hours of 'research' online, before I finally went back to the art program I know and understand.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABNVLn5WGYQwnLya1M_KGZnscNQRub8Zv4eD_0Xa3pXOJ9FxRZQtyFFsXbnUfSm2s41rWwBeako_1qx2OZ5BPXSjms5W1RIzqygOgDUlEljKYNO1ypLUsSysOnkZIvN5w9__hGG5xeYur/s1600/easter2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABNVLn5WGYQwnLya1M_KGZnscNQRub8Zv4eD_0Xa3pXOJ9FxRZQtyFFsXbnUfSm2s41rWwBeako_1qx2OZ5BPXSjms5W1RIzqygOgDUlEljKYNO1ypLUsSysOnkZIvN5w9__hGG5xeYur/s1600/easter2.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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I made up some little Easter Egg graphics, added some text, played around with the layout, played around with the layout some more... and more and more and more.....<br />
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But finally, I think I got something that someone out there might like to print.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN4H71KwxRACTH1vW91oWLMkwrlFxgwBCjJlgyUHGl6AKLF26DAgGHI3SycOFZPaykW6GEsiHowJ2Z7mxNyyGrRkq4iHDueTUeGs7b1jWAsx0aGjf1IDMYL2Z_u5NyW295Bj-Du3o3tePa/s1600/easter6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN4H71KwxRACTH1vW91oWLMkwrlFxgwBCjJlgyUHGl6AKLF26DAgGHI3SycOFZPaykW6GEsiHowJ2Z7mxNyyGrRkq4iHDueTUeGs7b1jWAsx0aGjf1IDMYL2Z_u5NyW295Bj-Du3o3tePa/s1600/easter6.jpg" height="320" width="227" /></a></div>
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So If you would like to download my very first Button Brain Printable Click Below:<br />
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<a href="http://www.mediafire.com/view/58jxbk7k22ativm/Easter_Holiday_Planner.pdf" target="_blank">Easter Holiday Planner Printable Link</a><br />
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Just download the PDF to your computer and print away.<br />
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So how do you think I did?<br />
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<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-50892683611611172122014-03-31T17:16:00.001+11:002014-03-31T17:48:04.056+11:00I must confess - March talesThis week for I Must Confess, I am being prompted to link to a post from March 2013,<br />
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There is the one where <a href="http://www.buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/almost-wordless-wednesday-gym.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">I talk about getting fit</span></a> after a looonngg absence from the gym ... turns out I did exactly the same thing in December, staying power is not my strong suit.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhf2R81DlzUi3yB0xTOUlfBcI5RlEKFvAWAX8qDiQSsiB8AXB4guJ1yX0TxMHV7pnexBub8F2zmBay5pDB-VuUVsWgm-pARvXMBHOuO69na4ezanpKwszaOw9Ue5Si2WNEqbfjXVpoXUd/s1600/3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhf2R81DlzUi3yB0xTOUlfBcI5RlEKFvAWAX8qDiQSsiB8AXB4guJ1yX0TxMHV7pnexBub8F2zmBay5pDB-VuUVsWgm-pARvXMBHOuO69na4ezanpKwszaOw9Ue5Si2WNEqbfjXVpoXUd/s1600/3.JPG" /></a></div>
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There is the one where I confess I have gone back to the<a href="http://www.buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/honestly.html" target="_blank"> <span style="color: red;">Dr for help with depression</span></a> (again!!!) and am hoping for sunnier skies. Since then the skies have been sunnier, cloudier, storming, shining, snowing, hailing and glorious. I don't think the black dog of depression is ever going to move out of my yard but I do think I've got it on a short chain (for now)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkjZlLASM8ZCW2nmazETGc6BXj_51VWBCdJleHk0NH8RMVc1QFWb6Qb604zMbHMxClNSXP4kjmuv9wh31FtObZcaugzuhHRVxHbubUWgHZ_PccM0Aretg1kWnPXjG18QMWr1S9e2q-e3U/s1600/dawn-wallpapers_1600x1200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwkjZlLASM8ZCW2nmazETGc6BXj_51VWBCdJleHk0NH8RMVc1QFWb6Qb604zMbHMxClNSXP4kjmuv9wh31FtObZcaugzuhHRVxHbubUWgHZ_PccM0Aretg1kWnPXjG18QMWr1S9e2q-e3U/s1600/dawn-wallpapers_1600x1200.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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There is<a href="http://www.buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/dpcon13-finding-my-tribe.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"> the post about DPCON13</span></a>, a conference for Australian Bloggers, mostly from the parent realm and how I LOVED the conference last year... Last week I went to the DPCON14 conference on a cruise ship (OH MY!) and it was magnificent. Once again, the tribe has spoken, I belong.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Kf_YCoWpnmKsiiTanC2tY5XZ_iqUDTUwsl1EQv6EwWqTcGfZ2XBuG9FPR8uq4m65U7wSxXUQits2kR52yZNGBlBdk-muN5M5GWpGLGEswNJLU4taVmNn1k5BqvYiimw-XEsDACMPOKGR/s1600/cruise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Kf_YCoWpnmKsiiTanC2tY5XZ_iqUDTUwsl1EQv6EwWqTcGfZ2XBuG9FPR8uq4m65U7wSxXUQits2kR52yZNGBlBdk-muN5M5GWpGLGEswNJLU4taVmNn1k5BqvYiimw-XEsDACMPOKGR/s1600/cruise.jpg" /></a></div>
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There was a post about <a href="http://www.buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2013/03/escapee.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">my very naughty raggy Cavoodle</span></a> who is like a little Houdini. When he gets out the front door, he runs like he will never run again. He still does it. It is less amusing now.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQLZqwN5hPFluECD8HfT8HJ5pj4Ad7e3ffg38cCmHExCTZ3JyZaHQjQHJ-1Kirg_GvqNS-hEoAlJSG6KmjrFONgJgYS1lDDadRiBLsEKC5Tmn1HSZIdZ8dNDXgxJBZgx7OSmYR6RJtfgS/s1600/b1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnQLZqwN5hPFluECD8HfT8HJ5pj4Ad7e3ffg38cCmHExCTZ3JyZaHQjQHJ-1Kirg_GvqNS-hEoAlJSG6KmjrFONgJgYS1lDDadRiBLsEKC5Tmn1HSZIdZ8dNDXgxJBZgx7OSmYR6RJtfgS/s1600/b1.JPG" /></a></div>
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So the post I am sharing is my 20th Anniversary Post. I love it, for all the things it says about us and me. Twenty One Years Last week, still here.<br />
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<span style="color: black;">WEDNESDAY, MARCH 20, 2013</span></h2>
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20 Years</h3>
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<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Once upon a time there was a little boy</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHKMuab8D9tAi3SkCZk6YT1RUOd8DzXZTcErMYSMhTsvCEp2w_iO6qsdArMG85qHcCD94lqZRToqS3YL6skuUwngbTOQtxJuEIUpfRX6MssJolEKuNYMDPwTlXZ0NIxxqJZ9cXgOiv6sZ/s1600/anni1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #4c1130; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdHKMuab8D9tAi3SkCZk6YT1RUOd8DzXZTcErMYSMhTsvCEp2w_iO6qsdArMG85qHcCD94lqZRToqS3YL6skuUwngbTOQtxJuEIUpfRX6MssJolEKuNYMDPwTlXZ0NIxxqJZ9cXgOiv6sZ/s320/anni1.jpg" height="320" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="220" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and a little girl.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5OaE2EY2IRLq1xtnukmMaic6bIm_ruuidMk4_qJluJwEfxFfUGKRyZ6PR0ob5e37y7BxpPvccUMe83YVnlEYGT-bumymRXtuje6wojrjHj6DhMduY9-UAk34sWGkUzw5N2xDa1zARlAN/s1600/anni2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #4c1130; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz5OaE2EY2IRLq1xtnukmMaic6bIm_ruuidMk4_qJluJwEfxFfUGKRyZ6PR0ob5e37y7BxpPvccUMe83YVnlEYGT-bumymRXtuje6wojrjHj6DhMduY9-UAk34sWGkUzw5N2xDa1zARlAN/s320/anni2.jpg" height="320" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="270" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They grew up in different cities, in very different families.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She was (mostly) a good girl who came home on time, who got good grades and who had only had one boyfriend.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He was a bit naughty, left home at 16 and had plenty of girlfriends :-)</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And then they met.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After three weeks of dating the boy told the girl he was going to marry her.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She laughed.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">18 months later......</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhziTWRcIGkf_P_L9856Cysu1WYlerR7erbp9FxoHqXOgpI7fjNvXKzaw0SMLI3hSiusFv8PxfNpy5w46QGQAmjw28yRW80sUKVtNWYjp2hQgbWOCmSUJl0ryPhA9KxbC3e-t6BTfrOgr8x/s1600/anni3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #4c1130; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhziTWRcIGkf_P_L9856Cysu1WYlerR7erbp9FxoHqXOgpI7fjNvXKzaw0SMLI3hSiusFv8PxfNpy5w46QGQAmjw28yRW80sUKVtNWYjp2hQgbWOCmSUJl0ryPhA9KxbC3e-t6BTfrOgr8x/s400/anni3.jpg" height="400" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="276" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just babies were we, me at 20 and he just 21.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jivmviCYgurYYtrWfUPdUoKBWHSzZ8Xe3Saxnfi-nKzVBbBhoZCyeeB6h7utqMeqUxy1B8Wt_FaRdYjm_IaNeanpyqNC2AaiIC8xIH3hEAc-NhH10iKXZhsRnm_C8Jie0WbNfeeH0Wrd/s1600/anni4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #4c1130; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0jivmviCYgurYYtrWfUPdUoKBWHSzZ8Xe3Saxnfi-nKzVBbBhoZCyeeB6h7utqMeqUxy1B8Wt_FaRdYjm_IaNeanpyqNC2AaiIC8xIH3hEAc-NhH10iKXZhsRnm_C8Jie0WbNfeeH0Wrd/s400/anni4.jpg" height="400" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="290" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What a spunk! A very tall spunk!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGyXN_wCcVg01XM_BenABmJ0wDGkNDquNPRqeAECJjkKl9yW_GrknLGd_1TASgSdQjgNar4ukeGpNKGdxQovcOy6O_CMAGpICGzpLgAVy0Z3sDBrdBBaAwM85y7hBAbLGnJH9pSaa3IF8_/s1600/anni5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="color: #4c1130; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGyXN_wCcVg01XM_BenABmJ0wDGkNDquNPRqeAECJjkKl9yW_GrknLGd_1TASgSdQjgNar4ukeGpNKGdxQovcOy6O_CMAGpICGzpLgAVy0Z3sDBrdBBaAwM85y7hBAbLGnJH9pSaa3IF8_/s320/anni5.jpg" height="284" style="border: none; position: relative;" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She's still (mostly) a good girl</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He's still a bit naughty.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">20 years.</span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Happy Anniversary Babe. </span><br />
<span style="color: #4c1130; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love you</span></div>
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buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-69662315606991475632014-03-11T09:58:00.001+11:002014-03-11T09:58:40.244+11:00Cocktail Dresses for CruisingIf I tell a mum at school that I write a blog, usually the reaction is a polite but blank smile.<br />
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Trying to explain to non-bloggers (or non-blog readers) what the point of a blog is, is nearly impossible.<br />
Mostly because in my case there is no actual point. I don't review products, I don't have a sponsor, I don't make any money and usually I don't have anything profound to share.<br />
I just like to write.<br />
And over-share.<br />
And off-load.<br />
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I can't explain why I like it, why this has become my hobby. It is no more significant than if I spent my time knitting or perfecting the art of cake pop making (NOT gonna happen). Yes, its probably a bit of time wasting nonsense and yet, so is just about anything we do outside the confines of our working hours.<br />
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In 2 weeks I'm heading off to a blogging conference, this year aboard the awesome Carnival Spirit Cruise Ship.
I've been to the last two<a href="http://digitalparentsconference.com.au/" target="_blank"> Digital Parents Conferences</a> and loved meeting other bloggers. They get me, (or if they didn't, they did a great job pretending to understand me!)<br />
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I have a room-mate matched up, I have my plane tickets booked. Hubby and kids are well warned and prepared. In the wee small hours I briefly considered booking in for spray tan and some botox but I decided that a weekend cruise probably didn't warrant that degree of vanity.<br />
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So yesterday I tweeted one of the organisers to get an idea of the plans for the first evening - how we would all find each other aboard this enormous ship.<br />
She wrote back with details and asked if I had my Cocktail dress ready.<br />
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I chuckled, then realised she was serious. A cocktail dress! Not an item that is essential in the wardrobe of a night shift nurse with 4 kids in hometown Wangarattta. I can't say there are a great number of Cocktail dress worthy events on my calendar.<br />
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I'm not even sure I know what makes a dress a 'Cocktail dress'. Are there Cocktail dress rules?<br />
I am worried now that I will commit a Cocktail Dress faux pas, and of course be completely unaware.<br />
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Fortunately, I turned to the endless wisdom of google, which gave me not only the definition of a cocktail dress ( including the variations of hemline length and acceptable standard of dress by accompanying males) , but google also offered examples.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZHRqnrzDqwVtAs-_QI_q5nMBxKAs_SZJuCUWRV0wqnkgos4MFiZus8QI_W0xcskk1ItLqlug5z2oPxbxRBvJFJEnaR-PyJk1i_Z06uHMI97NIgVh527DO3mhpvWsgBOJmyUlAG42E2HPX/s1600/3255625_f520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZHRqnrzDqwVtAs-_QI_q5nMBxKAs_SZJuCUWRV0wqnkgos4MFiZus8QI_W0xcskk1ItLqlug5z2oPxbxRBvJFJEnaR-PyJk1i_Z06uHMI97NIgVh527DO3mhpvWsgBOJmyUlAG42E2HPX/s1600/3255625_f520.jpg" height="400" width="202" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaEAjlpxX_c0kgo0XXsY9wQuq-B93vBTvpQq7K6qw3KniSTZUUX_DlN1AOYCmhBcq32sZu72WDav6TtGHBgH3aXIbd6JSARifETFhY2wdjWlIxwJsKQR5Ruc_5ebX6rcU_I4CLxjB_dI6w/s1600/long-ugly-dress5-things-that-wont-happen-at-haven-conference-hxiqf933.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaEAjlpxX_c0kgo0XXsY9wQuq-B93vBTvpQq7K6qw3KniSTZUUX_DlN1AOYCmhBcq32sZu72WDav6TtGHBgH3aXIbd6JSARifETFhY2wdjWlIxwJsKQR5Ruc_5ebX6rcU_I4CLxjB_dI6w/s1600/long-ugly-dress5-things-that-wont-happen-at-haven-conference-hxiqf933.jpg" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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Now I know what I'm looking for, I'm off to shop... where do you think I will find one of these ?</div>
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Linking Up With Jess For <a href="http://essentiallyjess.com/wave-ibot/" target="_blank">I Blog On Tuesdays</a></div>
<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-60714533103506905762014-03-06T09:49:00.000+11:002014-03-06T10:27:55.629+11:00Oh Happy Day <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Every parent wants their child to have the ability to support themselves. I'll be honest, there were times where I secretly doubted that was possible for our boy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Times in the muddy swamp land of school days with <a href="http://buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2012/04/road-to-diagnosis.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">undiagnosed Aspergers syndrome</span></a>, when I just despaired. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When he couldn't even remember two sequenced instructions and follow through ( not even on the first one!)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When his Grade 6 teacher told us he was never going to amount to anything..(yes he actually said it, in front of J-man)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When he was so sad and negative about himself I didn't even know if he would be here by the end of his cruel teen years.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When he got left behind, so far behind in basic reading and writing that in the end teachers told me he was really just coming to school to learn social skills.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Amazingly, and yet not so surprisingly, J-man has laughed off all of that.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He learned to read and write when he was good and ready. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He found a small but loyal group of friends at school and decided that he was just fine the way he was, and everyone else could just get over it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He figured out the value of remembering instruction very quickly in Army Cadets when not remembering earned you a bawling out and extra duties.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He rolled with<a href="http://buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2013/07/the-australian-government-and-how-to.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"> the punches dealt by the Australian Unemployment system</span></a> which is a deceptive and unsupportive mess. He put his resume out there over and over, applied for countless jobs, shook hands, nodded his head and put on a brave face with every knock back. For 18 months he has tried and tried and tried again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This week we had exciting news.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Big!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Huge!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jumping up and down in the kitchen with my mother, squealing and crying kind of news.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE9UHCWdsxUbzZMe9rlVoG0E6-gfVILQPykwiB9_jUAxLY6OGSl8Ya8su-99v16sMjPwvp3HMRrssI2kuaQyL_QNNXdfvB76y6zgV_i7VpBTTPpOy1-_Heb3eYBgimtQLwk7Mik5pRQiso/s1600/images+(4).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE9UHCWdsxUbzZMe9rlVoG0E6-gfVILQPykwiB9_jUAxLY6OGSl8Ya8su-99v16sMjPwvp3HMRrssI2kuaQyL_QNNXdfvB76y6zgV_i7VpBTTPpOy1-_Heb3eYBgimtQLwk7Mik5pRQiso/s1600/images+(4).jpg" height="321" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">J-man has been offered ( and has accepted ) a four year apprenticeship in Carpentry and Joinery.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A local builder gave him a 4 week trial and was happy enough with what J-man did to offer to take him on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are so grateful that this opportunity is here, that J-man was able to focus and shine. The builder loves that he has got to work early every single day, and works til stumps. He loves J-mans attention to detail, that he likes to work on a task until it is perfect ( hello Aspergers!) and that J-man is eager to learn. He likes him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are already seeing changes in J. He walks a little taller, he has more self confidence when talking with his mates about plans for the future. He's concerned about the aesthetic street appeal of our house and is considering replacing the old window frames in the lounge room.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He's going to be okay. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oh Happy Day!</span><br />
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<div align="center"><a href="http://www.aparentinglife.com/search/label/Thankful%20Thursday" title="Thankful Thursday with APL" target="_blank"><img src="http://i1186.photobucket.com/albums/z380/lourhi/ThankfulThursdaybutton_zpsba8927f7.png" alt="Thankful Thursday with APL" style="border:none;" /></a></div>buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-13778893052458260952014-02-26T17:54:00.002+11:002014-02-26T20:18:25.969+11:00Risk taking behaviourSunk into the dirty sandpit, the monkey bars were the place to be in my school yard.<br />
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Every recess and every lunch we scrambled over the hot metal frame, practising backflips, leaping from the lower bars to the overhead bridgework and hoping like hell that our sweaty hands would grip and hold the steel. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo83WK_Dab0r2klscAw4Sb12KjvXMH1CH9CYLxES0q4I_xjSAB0dxiWNkXdUOC9Ld4dpr0W31NUsOIFKV5ud_UojidJZURjJysTZCLSsDY6c1CsbgHkfleJ78J7wLnenkjpfgJnv1w69a3/s1600/playground1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo83WK_Dab0r2klscAw4Sb12KjvXMH1CH9CYLxES0q4I_xjSAB0dxiWNkXdUOC9Ld4dpr0W31NUsOIFKV5ud_UojidJZURjJysTZCLSsDY6c1CsbgHkfleJ78J7wLnenkjpfgJnv1w69a3/s1600/playground1.jpg" height="400" width="339" /></a></div>
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The bravest kids had little routines, swooping and flipping in a less than graceful and yet energetic gymnastics frenzy.</div>
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Teachers watched on, sipping a mug of coffee and occasionally calling out if it looked like someone was going to lose an eye.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOuYEIWq0sVdZi7QMAa13JPZgX7rUOxTEpXt2L5Fk8TxzC-SeHXzuxp8P99KD4L_TiQsJlLkmHwrRXu23KjMLvWAXnKFchQQ3ayRELVTcaAuBAQUvBZVmHC6MWbiaL2tldZMEkgUcs8aaN/s1600/playground2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOuYEIWq0sVdZi7QMAa13JPZgX7rUOxTEpXt2L5Fk8TxzC-SeHXzuxp8P99KD4L_TiQsJlLkmHwrRXu23KjMLvWAXnKFchQQ3ayRELVTcaAuBAQUvBZVmHC6MWbiaL2tldZMEkgUcs8aaN/s1600/playground2.jpg" height="400" width="309" /></a></div>
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Every now and then, a kid fell and ate some sand. There were some grazed knees and one broken arm that I can recall.</div>
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I don't remember it ever being referred to as "risk taking behaviour" although there was certainly risk. </div>
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What I do remember was standing on the lower rungs trying to work up the courage to push out into open air and reach for the top bar. I must have stood on that rung every break time for 3 school terms. I was sick in the stomach. Anxious, desperate. </div>
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Logically the distance was not so great, the abyss not so broad, but to a 10 year old it was like leaping into the grand canyon and hoping to catch a trapeze bar.</div>
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I watched jealously as my braver classmates leapt with abandon, I felt left behind as they sat straddling the top rungs like kings surveying their land.</div>
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I remember the day I finally took the leap, the adrenaline, the victory and the exhilaration when I caught the top bar and swung myself up to sit with the kings.</div>
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A risk taken, a mountain conquered.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHK1c1NgORH394R2hiCkJlzPUDxfbFd89K6IrycX9m7fyOln9Fo5ovgLbogir-E2b8CmufGaT8ARPUECIlZFsCNprkHodoBT6NfmuLeRIDojpmtzpXTNXu4fRl2_b1pcmHLIxIfuvN2tDX/s1600/Leaping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHK1c1NgORH394R2hiCkJlzPUDxfbFd89K6IrycX9m7fyOln9Fo5ovgLbogir-E2b8CmufGaT8ARPUECIlZFsCNprkHodoBT6NfmuLeRIDojpmtzpXTNXu4fRl2_b1pcmHLIxIfuvN2tDX/s1600/Leaping.jpg" height="400" width="287" /></a></div>
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That climbing frame has been pulled down now. Far too unsafe. Kids were taking risks on it, silly childish risks. Someone might get <strike>sued</strike> hurt.</div>
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It's been replaced with a brightly coloured Fort.<br />
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It stands 4 foot off the ground and has safety nets on 2 sides (because school children can't be trusted to not fall through the gap and someone might get hurt) On the entry side are sturdy steps ( a ladder with open rungs being unsuitable in case a foot slips off a rung and someone gets hurt). There is a slippery dip on the fourth side which is missing the dip and which a kid can sit on for a year before sliding, the gradient is so slight. (because a child might slip down too fast and someone might get hurt). I'm certain that half of St Kilda beach lies underneath the fort for extra soft landings. Lucky its brightly coloured, because the colour is the most exciting thing about it.</div>
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A friend of mine has a son who is regularly in trouble at school for his exuberant behaviour. He is full of energy, a typical showoff, third child and after a few hours trapped in a classroom, he tends to let of steam with school yard play. </div>
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What bothers me is the phone calls my friend gets from school to discuss her sons "risk taking behaviour".</div>
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"Tom jumped from the top of the fort and that is an unacceptable risk" -a four foot tall fort! </div>
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"Tom showed his mates how he can do a back-flip, and that is an unacceptable risk" - wow, we spent so much time doing cartwheels, handstands and back-flips it's a wonder the Moscow Circus didn't try to enlist us as acrobats.</div>
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"Tom jumped off the retaining wall near the garden. No not the high wall, the retaining wall. Yes the one that is low enough for preppies to lean over and plant seedlings. But it was onto hard concrete and anything could have happened.!"</div>
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Just between you and me, I think Tom is pretty normal. He's not engaged in dangerous risk taking behaviour, he's finding his boundaries.</div>
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What is not normal is to try to protect our kids from every experience just so they don't scrap a knee or jolt their ankle. Of course helmets while riding bikes and skateboards is sensible, of course we shouldn't allow our kids to hurl themselves out of windows, but we have taken our desire to protect our little treasures from every little feeling that isn't sunshine and roses, that we are denying them important life lessons. </div>
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How will they learn how to take a risk safely, if we never allow them to risk.</div>
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And if we as parents, guardians and teachers prevent all risk taking throughout childhood. what do you think will happen when they finally get the freedom of adulthood, including cars, money and alcohol?</div>
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We are creating a disaster with our bubble-wrapped kids. </div>
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We are creating a generation of young adults who have no real idea how to be safe.<br />
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What do you remember doing in your childhood that would draw gasps of horror now. </div>
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buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-88985640181359928362014-02-19T14:20:00.001+11:002014-02-19T14:20:15.468+11:00Teddy's Teddy Bear - almost wordless wednesday<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sometimes I play a bit too rough with my Teddy</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today Mum took it away from me. I was sad.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm9eUo0BC8RCiFO-vSkBHn8VSBO0Q7iVeh5cq8jhWFxUAmYCinXy_ImrghsxxoJCvSaRdiPfmo9uc1IlUrR2x58gWm79b3vjAFedwO6SCQHgNOCb7Dp-Xcxk_eUNUcQ9Ml6GykRrmBwMrW/s1600/bear+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm9eUo0BC8RCiFO-vSkBHn8VSBO0Q7iVeh5cq8jhWFxUAmYCinXy_ImrghsxxoJCvSaRdiPfmo9uc1IlUrR2x58gWm79b3vjAFedwO6SCQHgNOCb7Dp-Xcxk_eUNUcQ9Ml6GykRrmBwMrW/s1600/bear+2.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">OH DEAR :-(</span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She said she was going to fix it. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUkmvESOvMP8ZW73jwea1KqYL7pCgcQhvLVb8M2u1JJ67CAeQuivmJL50RI_I3jTFYfI35PXNPkp8pLOlIhRirwKPD1VS82aBB4X3dXLiQbJldg7qJU6T-M6ORy2hPhAaHK8O3qnQ6qKd/s1600/bear+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsUkmvESOvMP8ZW73jwea1KqYL7pCgcQhvLVb8M2u1JJ67CAeQuivmJL50RI_I3jTFYfI35PXNPkp8pLOlIhRirwKPD1VS82aBB4X3dXLiQbJldg7qJU6T-M6ORy2hPhAaHK8O3qnQ6qKd/s1600/bear+4.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It took Way. Too. Long. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But then... reunited at last. I will never let him go.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #741b47; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3BXHhuojJGezZEP8rvRxVwzkZ6gSNZEK6IP4nLxFh-OWa1CKD6wZAXzKpzLWYURl6j0JFANe-CUbTsoPef3XOBsEi77nWHoF7TwOROkv3Bro_4WOfvls7HsYhlqd1ErX-m3kgXk0_nNfw/s1600/bear6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3BXHhuojJGezZEP8rvRxVwzkZ6gSNZEK6IP4nLxFh-OWa1CKD6wZAXzKpzLWYURl6j0JFANe-CUbTsoPef3XOBsEi77nWHoF7TwOROkv3Bro_4WOfvls7HsYhlqd1ErX-m3kgXk0_nNfw/s1600/bear6.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></span></div>
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<br />buttonbrainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02644950461887904205noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7137486548457649315.post-56529947051245450942014-02-18T15:37:00.000+11:002014-02-18T22:09:42.740+11:00I'm Loving This.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So there's been a bit of a blogging slump for me... too much to say that I can't really say out here in blog world and yet the mundane is just so... mundane.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But today I read<a href="http://mrsbcshouseofchaos.blogspot.com.au/2014/02/10-things-i-love-right-now.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"> THIS POST from Mrs BC's House of Chaos</span></a> and I thought, that's an awesome start.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A snap shot of ten things I'm loving right now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">1.RUNNING. It's freeing. It's empowering. It's bloody exhausting. But I love it. I love knowing that I've put a few kilometres under my feet. I love the endorphin rush. I love the fact that my butt is now smaller and that I'm not gasping for air when I have to chase the puppy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Most of all, I love the zone I get in, where I can't think about anything other than breathing in and out, and where my feet are heading. It's enforced meditation, a compulsory clearing of the mind. Breathe In Breathe Out. That is all.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">2. MY IPAD MINI. At Christmas by a freakish but fortunate set of circumstances my husband brought home a brand new Ipad Mini. He already has an Ipad so <span style="color: #cc0000;"><strike>I claimed it</strike></span> he very generously gifted it to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">AWESOMENESS!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As a night shift nurse who often gets to work to discover I am destined spend the next 10 hrs sitting at the bedside of a delirious patient, this little gadget of wonder is my new night companion. From banking to games, to blogging and reading via the Kindle App, this little dude does everything except make me coffee. LOVE LOVE LOVE</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">3. BUNNY RABBITS. Oh yes, we are a newly converted bunny friendly household now. If you caught my <a href="http://buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2014/01/its-been-while.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;">post where we gave Miss 16 her rabbit</span></a><span style="color: #cc0000;">,</span> you'll know this was something she wanted for a REAAAALLLLLLLY long time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like, forever. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We already have 2 small puppydogs and a rather cross cat, but Gimli the bunny has settled in nicely and has made best buddies with Teddy. Teddy is taking his role of big brother and protector very seriously and his favourite thing to do in the whole wide world is to lick Gimli's ears til they flutter like a helicopter. So much cuteness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">4. CHERRY TOMATOES. They are tomatoes, they are like cherries. What is not to love? I'm snacking on a punnet a day. I could blarb on about the vitamin C boost, making healthy choices, blarb...blarb...blarb but you know what, I actually never think of those reasons. I just love the way the skin pops and the juice flows out. Tasty.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIiUTXntRcdEccsmsjDcajOA5lqDJaXbNBIkEe5Iu6VmRWbdnbCA1oYOJ5zCHlbPsSrMtXjeIjS2FBhkr9rudmZ02JLI_0IXEKh2Fh21ofmvXRbB9emL3fEj00PwqapNgCYAch10nZPdl1/s1600/tomato.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIiUTXntRcdEccsmsjDcajOA5lqDJaXbNBIkEe5Iu6VmRWbdnbCA1oYOJ5zCHlbPsSrMtXjeIjS2FBhkr9rudmZ02JLI_0IXEKh2Fh21ofmvXRbB9emL3fEj00PwqapNgCYAch10nZPdl1/s1600/tomato.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">5.Re-READING. It's so easy to flop on the couch and let the Television take you and your brain cells on a little holiday, but since I started doing exclusively night shifts, I have lost touch with all those series that seemed so important before. I never watched the end of Offspring, I have no idea what happened in Homeland. I have only seen ads for the INXS story and for Love Child. The noise of the voices and constant harsh jarring advertising makes me cringe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So I read. I am re-reading my lovely Marian Keyes novels, And having a wander with Jodi Piccoult. I have read and reread Any McNabb's autobiographies. There is something truly blissful about opening the pages of a loved book. The familiarity and certainty of where the story will travel allows you to sink into the story fully and enjoy the journey. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">6. WALKING MY MUM'S DOG. I mentioned earlier that we have two small puppy dogs. Neither of them are particularly enthusiastic about walking. Teddy (laid back hippy cavoodle love child) humours me and waddles around the block. Abby ( paranoid schizo crazy poodle girl) spends every second of a walk trying to convince me she is dying a horridly painful death. She cries, yelps, lies down on her back and refuses to walk. She runs ahead and turns around trying to jump up into my arms. Anything she can do to get out of this crazy 'exercise' business.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My Mum and Dad have had to go away for a couple of weeks and I have been babysitting their dog Billy. He's a tough wiry boy, with some Jack Russell and a whole lot of bitza. He's strong as an ox, and he adores going for a walk. He grins as he leads the way, sniffing and weeing on every tree, stick and dainty flower he can get close to. He likes to say hello to every dog, cat or snail he discovers and he can walk for miles. Yesterday we got close to the little creek near their house and he took off racing along the bank, under the low hanging branches, through the reeds. He discovered some ducks and considered having a swim with them. He was so joyful and happy and In The Moment. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">7. J-MAN GOING TO WORK. I can't say much as it is early days. But.... J-man is trialling with a local builder/joiner with the idea that if all goes well he'll be taken on as an apprentice. Anyone who read my<a href="http://www.buttonbrain.blogspot.com.au/2013/07/the-australian-government-and-how-to.html" target="_blank"><span style="color: red;"> RANT about the stupid Unemployment system</span></a> in Australia knows this is a big deal. Huge. Enormous. Fingers, toes and eyeballs crossed that it continues.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWcvCo7K53-0B11oBdYGdgd7UhaAVJd0GeIm_jTTkEhabu5gbb5DDm_WKN6KSSpp3DPa7OKXHQm-hyTDauazYT7NSsMqtYFPC9mGd3Te7P-0YWdl0iRD8Ifi83kdboXkakJhSvwppx-X0/s1600/Fingers-Crossed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCWcvCo7K53-0B11oBdYGdgd7UhaAVJd0GeIm_jTTkEhabu5gbb5DDm_WKN6KSSpp3DPa7OKXHQm-hyTDauazYT7NSsMqtYFPC9mGd3Te7P-0YWdl0iRD8Ifi83kdboXkakJhSvwppx-X0/s1600/Fingers-Crossed.jpg" height="190" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">8. WHITE GOODS. Weird choice perhaps but here's the thing, I am so bloody grateful for my washing machine and my dishwasher right now. Between J-man's dirty work gear, all the school uniforms, work uniforms, ballet/jazz/hiphop gear, teenage " I wore it for 5 minutes so now I need to change my outfit" clothes plus towels, sheets and underpants, I firmly believe that the washing machine, not diamonds, are a girls best friend. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Second to that is the dishwasher. I know I am very lucky to have a dishwasher and yes, we can survive just fine doing our dishes by hand, but guys, it just makes mornings and evenings so much easier. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">9. COOLER EVENINGS. I can handle the heat in the middle of the day, but there is something exhausting about a hot night. You can't sleep well, you feel like you need a shower, even when you just got out of the shower, your pillow is too hot and for some reason all the animals can't respect personal space. Finally we have a few cooler nights, and we are all much better rested. Well rested means no grumpy teenagers in the morning (who am I kidding, one of them is always grumpy!) and energy to get through the next day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">10. BANJO KAZOOIE. Little secret I need to share with you. I'm a complete dork. A nerd. I am happily living in the 90's with my Nintendo 64. Yes blog readers. I love my games. I am the master of the early editions of Spyro The Dragon on Playstation and on Nintendo 64 I am quite partial to Banjo Kazooie. It's okay if you don't know the game. Just know that this weekend, I'll probably be kicking back with a glass of wine, a bowl of chips, control stick in hand showing my kids how to defeat Gruntilda like a boss. Because deep inside I'm actually twelve.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What are you loving right now? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Linking up with Jess for I Blog On Tuesdays</span></div>
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