tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-158083392011-04-21T15:38:41.224-07:00A Migrant Mother's MusingsMotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comBlogger591100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1165925582565957342006-12-18T04:42:00.000-07:002006-12-27T22:12:31.953-07:00

I actually got asked this by H. No, I replied, they have reindeer, you know that. He looked at me like I was an idiot. Mummy, he said, jet engines or propellers!Fortunately H seems unscarred by Santa's lack of reassurances regarding the requested toy plane (see below). Actually I'm getting a bit worried about the plane as the number of accoutrements requested is growing daily. To begin with the

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1165910155048301282006-12-15T00:55:00.000-07:002006-12-27T22:15:08.580-07:00

That guy is just everywhere at the moment, and up until last Saturday I had managed to avoid him very successfully. Bah, humbug. Well, not really, I was a bit worried about how H would react, as he tends to freak out a bit about stuff like that.But last Saturday, H's daycare held a Christmas party, and guess who the guest of honour was. Hmmm. A suspiciously slender looking Santa who had clearly

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1166050940430787722006-12-13T15:17:00.000-07:002006-12-13T16:02:20.630-07:00

When I pick up H from daycare, I usually have some kind of music in the car to accompany us home. Often the choice is nursery rhymes of the variety that stick leechlike into the adult subconscious for hours afterwards, but hey, I'm that kind of selfless mother who is prepared to make that kind of sacrifice for my child. Lately however even H has got a bit sick of Raffi et al, and so I've been

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1165909738123681052006-12-12T00:28:00.000-07:002006-12-12T00:48:58.136-07:00

It's just started to get seriously warm in a Perth-summer-like way here, and I have to prevent myself from smirking when chatting to friends in the UK whingeing about gales, freezing rain and dark afternoons. In fact today I have managed very little, and have even resorted to turning on the aircon in the house for the first time this year. It's just much too hot outside to be virtuous and go for

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1162879616226780982006-12-06T23:03:00.000-07:002006-12-12T00:52:46.420-07:00

France, France, France. What a wonderful country you are. I lived in France as a student a mere, erm, twenty years ago now, and it is just as irritating and bewitching in equal measures as I remember. Dogshit everywhere, graffiti partout, astonishingly cavalier and rude drivers, together with intensely delightful food and drink, charming towns and villages, and that certain je ne sais quoi of

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1162880227209860062006-11-30T23:07:00.000-07:002006-12-12T00:54:35.990-07:00

During our time in Provence, we spent a good deal of time "doing" the Roman stuff in towns like Avignon, Nimes and Arles. I wondered how this would pan out with H in tow, but as it turned out he loved it, having the chance to climb freely up and down steps while either D or I trailed leisurely behind him, audioguide playing in one ear. The other was usually marooned with feeding or burping little

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1162879384545874472006-11-06T22:57:00.000-07:002006-11-06T23:03:04.556-07:00

...are just not enough in my day at the moment, and have sadly left no time for blogging since our return from Europe last month. More of that, in dribs and drabs, to come.I have resolved to make more of an effort, notwithstanding the fact that next Monday we start major house renovations, which will make internet access a little patchy.What more? Ah yes, SUMMER. While everyone in the UK shivers

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1154321763985467612006-09-03T21:55:00.000-07:002006-09-03T23:02:46.910-07:00

There will be another woefully long blogging intermission. D and I are off to Europe for 5 weeks with H and B in tow. Three countries, six flights, and God-knows how much baggage.By the time I return, I truly hope to have become organised enough to resume blogging on a regular basis. Life has just been so hectic recently that Fluking has been bottom of my list of things to do.But little B is now

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1153905777565139232006-08-10T02:10:00.000-07:002006-09-03T22:56:20.876-07:00

H has fortunately always been a good eater, but he has started really strongly holding out for his favourite foods and declining to fill himself with meat and vegetables if there's any hope of getting something baked and sweet. D and I are being resolute about having to eat his main course first, but so far, it hasn't stopped him trying for pudding straight off. In the meantime, if I really need

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1154320895108965962006-07-31T12:38:00.000-07:002006-07-30T21:41:35.116-07:00

What's better, or worse? - one child waking as another falls asleep, thus permitting no respite to get anything done or catch up on lost sleep, or both being awake simultaneously and the chaos that ensues? Just wondering.

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1153905016098787332006-07-26T01:48:00.000-07:002006-07-26T02:10:16.113-07:00

Let's ignore for the moment the sad fact that it is over a month since I last blogged, only mentioning briefly that B does not sleep, and neither, as a result do I. I have thus been inhabiting the warped quasi-world that belongs to the permanently sleep-deprived, and this, combined with the joys of mastitis and winter colds, have conspired to put blogging at the tail end of my list of imminently

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1150853117757978832006-06-20T18:08:00.000-07:002006-06-20T18:25:17.770-07:00

Well it turns out that H was right all along about the baby being a girl. I am now safely home and in the process of returning to something approximating normality, or at least what will have to pass for normality in a house with a two year old and a two-week old.The birth itself was a breeze - more akin to a night out at a comedy show than a major abdominal operation. My lovely anaesthetist and

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1149134510420936162006-06-01T20:57:00.000-07:002006-05-31T21:02:26.750-07:00

There will be a short intermission while I supplement the world's population with another hungry mouth, an event which will take place at 0940 on June 2nd local time in Western Australia.I am feeling totally calm about it at the moment, thanks to the inimitable Dr T who has promised to be up all night tonight sharpening his carving knife. I'm just about to go off and meet my anaesthetist. Hope

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1149134272418858852006-05-31T20:54:00.000-07:002006-05-31T20:57:52.420-07:00

H has suddenly started calling everybody "darling". Last night he air-kissed me and said "Night night darling!" before toddling off to bed. This morning we had "Hi darling!", "Okay, darling!", "Thank you darling!" and "Bye, darling!".It's like living with the leading light of some Amateur Dramatics Society :-).

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1147825323928466212006-05-24T17:11:00.000-07:002006-05-31T20:54:30.823-07:00

Via a recommendation, D and I now have the most gorgeous and sweet dental hygienist on the planet. Not only is Teya extremely beautiful and good at her job, but she has one of those sweetly charming personalities that make you feel all stroked and at one with the world. Not a bad achievement for someone who routinely administers a procedure that used to have me grinding my nails into my palms and

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1147227184075739622006-05-21T19:01:00.000-07:002006-05-22T18:18:46.996-07:00

The advent of two-year-old-ness is never more apparent than in the incarnation of the Fearsome Tantrum, something that H is becoming impressively skilled at. Tantrums reduce me to a mental state somehow encompassing panic, annoyance, resignation and dread all at once, as I frantically try all the distraction techniques I can muster in the few seconds it takes for him to spiral into full-blown

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1147824287776961352006-05-16T16:43:00.000-07:002006-05-16T17:04:47.820-07:00

We've had some idyllic weather here this month and I really find it hard to believe that this is the Northern Hemisphere equivalent of November. During the day the temperature has been up in the twenties, and it's blissfully pleasant to linger outside with a cappuccino enjoying the sunshine and the absence of flies. Perth is blessed with some wonderful open spaces and parks, and my favourite

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1147392864959882622006-05-12T17:03:00.000-07:002006-05-11T17:14:34.520-07:00

The chat continues:"I got a ball!""I got lego!""I got a Nanna!""I go in Daddy's CAR!""More weebix please delicious!""I'm a NUTTER!"It would be hard to think of anything more succinct to sum up the main elements of H's life at the moment, other than the repeated "Sister! L'il GIRL!" insistence when prodding my belly. (Although five percent of the time he opts for "turtle!" or "cat!". Actually I'm

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1146639477212205152006-05-10T23:40:00.000-07:002006-05-09T19:01:12.856-07:00

Suddenly, H has discovered the power of adjectives. We've gone from plenty of nouns and verbs, to pronouncements on everything from breakfast "dee-licious!", the weather "sunny!", kissing "nice!", impending events "soon!", and amusing books "funny!", amongst a pile of others. There are so many new words every day at the moment that I can't keep up. And at the weekend we had a whole sentence

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1144121518197736082006-05-03T20:31:00.000-07:002006-05-02T23:39:55.856-07:00

Only 4 weeks to go now, and the time is whirling by in a mad rush of working and decorating. I'm getting progressively huger. Yesterday at work no fewer than four male colleagues spontaneously commented on how big I had become. I had to restrain myself from saying, yeah well, I'm pregnant, what's your excuse? - they could all have done with shedding a few kilos themselves.Still, at my check-up

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1144121480909078942006-04-10T20:30:00.000-07:002006-04-17T17:53:09.280-07:00

It's been about ten years since I last had a garden, my first, in the depths of Surrey, England. I used to spend hours and hours faffing about in it, learning all the correct latin names for bedding plants and conducting chemical warfare on various of God's creatures who showed signs of interfering with my plans for the ultimate evening gin-and-tonic environment. I joined the RHS, immersed myself

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1144121423245716062006-04-03T19:56:00.000-07:002006-04-17T17:21:52.650-07:00

Read an article on MSN recently in which the male health editor had been persuaded to wear a pregnancy-simulating bump weighing 28 pounds (about 13 kilos) for 24 hours, with predictable results (back-ache, intense self-pity, sudden respect for pregnant women). The whole thing struck me as a little bit pointless, as to go from nothing to that amount of additional weight immediately would be hard

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1143617092551993202006-03-29T00:14:00.000-07:002006-04-03T19:56:03.126-07:00

In other words, 9 weeks to go before Dr T gets the carving knife out. Had my 29 week check-up today, a visit only remarkable in the fact that both Dr T and I were suffering from sciatica. I told him he should be grateful he didn't have to try pushing a stroller with it.Have been recommended a good physiotherapist, but am not sure when I'll be able to get up there - certainly not before next week.

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1143087083780643052006-03-22T21:04:00.000-07:002006-03-29T00:13:54.186-07:00

D told me last week that one of the receptionists at work keeps a kangaroo under the desk. Now, good though he is at winding me up, and gullible enough as I usually am to fall for his stories, I wasn't having a bar of that one.But he persisted with unusual tenacity and even told me that Caroline had invited H along to pet it and feed it. So this morning we duly turned up at the airport to see Bob

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1143086596563856732006-03-22T21:00:00.000-07:002006-03-22T21:03:16.573-07:00

...there's nothing like writing about the weather to make it change. We had rain yesterday for the first time in weeks. And the temperature today is a chilly max 20 degrees! Outrageous. Shiver, shiver.

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1142829419946631012006-03-19T21:07:00.000-07:002006-03-19T21:39:34.360-07:00

Yet another day with temperatures in the mid thirties, blue sky and gentle breeze. A tad on the hot side for someone with 40% extra blood in her veins, but hey, I am not complaining. Especially after talking with friends and family in the UK who are in the throes of the coldest spring for over 20 years. Snow, sleet and ice for them this late in March seems a little unfair. Recently I have been

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1142557609981299362006-03-16T17:52:00.000-07:002006-03-19T21:07:29.490-07:00

This morning as he was leaving for work, D said to me "That Cracker one is really good. Though it's not as good as Fifi. Slugsy is a brilliant character".I stared at him blankly for a moment before I realised that he was referring to H's now-extensive collection of DVDs, one of which is usually playing at some point during the early morning chaos chez the Flukers. Hearing him comment so

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1141272970448862422006-03-15T21:02:00.000-07:002006-03-16T18:09:48.206-07:00

Another check-up with the illustrious Dr Turner. As usual I was in his rooms for a total of 400 seconds during which time he reviewed my notes, did an ultrasound, confirmed the Carving-Knife date and, horror of horrors, told me not to eat so much.I have put on a shocking 4kg in 5 weeks, and realise that this goes totally against my so-called determined stance not to put on as much weight as last

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1141272062324265702006-03-08T20:57:00.000-07:002006-03-16T18:08:24.616-07:00

Ohhhhhhh, sllleeeeeeeeeeep. Last night the H awoke more than a dozen times. I tried everything I could think of bar parcel-taping his mouth shut and plugging my ears with playdough. Think it's the eye teeth - there are four hard white lumps straining against the gums and he is dribbling for the nation. Poor little thing.Feel like a wet rag today. I am getting much too old for this.

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1141271839963418232006-03-01T20:42:00.000-07:002006-03-01T20:57:19.996-07:00

At last, we are finally in our own home, and thank God everything went a whole pile more smoothly this time than the last three times I have moved.The last time I moved, I was coming out from Scotland to Australia, was 6 months pregnant and was completely exhausted from having to organise everything at the Scotland end (flat refurnishing and redecoration, flat rental, shipping of worldly goods),

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1140395944071351452006-02-19T17:21:00.000-07:002006-02-27T23:21:41.010-07:00

It's been hard to find time to write recently as we are finally in the throes of moving house. For the next few days we are officially no longer owner-occupiers of anywhere on the planet, having disposed of the Glasgow flat officially last Friday and not taking possession of the new house until this Thursday. In recent weeks there has been the usual frenzy of packing, cleaning and admin to be

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1139205748715056142006-02-05T22:54:00.000-07:002006-02-19T17:21:25.986-07:00

This week I said goodbye to my little Mudlark, as he became a Magpie. Yes, H has graduated out of the baby room at Daycare and into the 2-3 year-old room at the precocious age of 20 months. Actually I think this is indicative not so much of advanced intelligence and ability on H's part but the simple fact that there are now quite a few little sit-on-the-floor type babies (was H ever like that?

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1139204918885462662006-02-05T22:17:00.000-07:002006-02-05T22:48:38.910-07:00

...are unbelievably crap.I have never in my life had such appalling problems with banks than since I have lived in Australia. Not only was there the shock of having to pay for everyday banking services (in the UK if your account is in credit this is not usual), but the double indignation that even then they still stuff up the services you are paying for. Plus, standard practice here is to be

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1137374010415656932006-01-15T17:52:00.000-07:002006-01-15T18:13:30.440-07:00

This is my new initiative to try to get more sleep and thus immeasurably improve the quality of my life.H is a great little sleeper. However, he regularly stirs due to (I suppose) nightmares, though what his nightmares could possibly be about is beyond me. Maybe someone is trying to cut his hair or generally curtail his freedom in some menacing and unnecessary way, by changing his nappy or

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1136432024538697942006-01-04T20:24:00.000-07:002006-01-04T20:36:05.686-07:00

...gone tomorrow. At least, I wish that applied to H's hair. He has reached the critical stage of floppy blond locks now falling into his eyes and over his ears and I am braced to endure the awful task that taking him to the hairdressers has become.The first time I got H's hair cut, he was good as gold and beamed beatifically at all the other customers, while giving Jodie the hairdresser a look

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1135232394939998952005-12-21T23:15:00.000-07:002005-12-21T23:19:54.950-07:00

I'd like to pretend that I'm suffering from pregnancy cravings, but in truth I often have phases of intense affection for particular combinations of foodstuffs, so I can't really be sure.But the past few weeks have seen two wild and fulfilling passions enter my life.1) Corn on the cob, smothered in very salty butter and then dipped into chilli and ginger sauce.2) Philadelphia cream cheese with

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1134953293704777282005-12-18T17:42:00.000-07:002005-12-18T22:15:53.903-07:00

As a geriatric mother, I have the bonus of extra chromosomal tests, etc, to reassess my risk of having a Down Syndrome baby or one with Trisomy disorders. This involves a blood test, followed a couple of days later by a detailed scan primarily looking at the thickness of a fold of skin at the baby's neck. The resulting information is keyed into a computer alongside my age, and then revised odds

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1134363589197563822005-12-11T21:48:00.000-07:002005-12-11T21:59:49.206-07:00

Along to the Child Health Clinic today for H's 18 month check. Never sure how much faith to place in the utterings of some of the Child Health nurses (was thoroughly castigated once for giving the H solid food before the age of 6 months, and occasionally the advice undergoes a complete U-turn over time, viz, "Sterilise everything!" "Don't sterilise anything - we've changed our minds!"). But I did

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1133326169982091182005-11-29T21:29:00.000-07:002005-11-29T22:12:59.276-07:00

Had an appointment a few days ago with Dr T, surely Perth's busiest and most charismatic obstetrician. My mother insists he reminds her of King George V (in looks, presumably; as far as I know my mother was not on intimate medical terms with King G, but then, she is a woman full of surprises). Dr T is a large and bearded man with a dynamic approach to patient processing. His rooms are a virtual

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1132641000980287992005-11-21T22:56:00.000-07:002005-11-21T23:34:16.473-07:00

At a book party last week, the assembled ten or so women had all had at least one baby in the last 18 months, and at least several of us were pregnant again. The conversation was free-flowing, and in the way that would have totally alarmed the hell out of me in my child-free days, was quite horrifically intimate and graphic in a completely casual way. In the course of an hour or so and over some

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1131716320762254722005-11-11T22:36:00.000-07:002005-11-11T06:38:40.810-07:00

I was in Garden City* this morning when a warbling version of the Last Post started up. I looked at my watch and realised - eleven o'clock on the eleventh day of the eleventh month... Almost all the shoppers around me stood stock still, averting their eyes from the shelves, and the background shop music was hastily switched off as everyone did a bit of private pondering. Except for a handful of

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1131665119570784402005-11-10T16:20:00.000-07:002005-11-10T16:25:19.580-07:00

Not twins, thank God. According to the scan, I'm incubating a single broad bean. Another three weeks to go, and then in theory I will start to feel less like I've spent the previous evening downing 8 pints of snakebite with tequila chasers. Then there will be a couple of months of feeling energetic before the full Sigourney-Weaver-in-Alien, (only lots, lots, fatter) stage takes over.

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1131340401965718232005-11-06T22:09:00.000-07:002005-11-06T22:13:21.976-07:00

Haven't posted for ages due to that disgusting design fault of the human female body, morning sickness. Would be totally manageable were it only to be in the morning, but am enduring all-day every-day nausea and frequent eyeball-busting bouts of retching at inopportune moments, interpersed with starving hunger and consequent binge eating. All totally out of control. Am having a scan on Weds to

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1130218805787030202005-10-24T22:26:00.000-07:002005-10-24T22:40:05.793-07:00

Okay, there must indeed be a strange planetary configuration at the moment, or at least one which affects my life if nobody else's. It's always this way with me - life bumbles along in a series of logjamming arse-scratching wait-a-thons while absolutely no progress is made on any front at all. Then suddenly, deaths, births, and a whole pile of generally meaningful life events happen bang bang

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1129524691988295322005-10-17T21:42:00.000-07:002005-10-16T21:51:31.990-07:00

I have just discovered that I am pregnant again. There, it looks even more shocking in print.Bizarrely, I have the same due date in June as I did with the H. There will be exactly two years between them. But thinking about it, there's no way the H and his sibling will share an actual birthday. Going overdue ain't something I am going to do again, so this one's coming out early, no arguments. Plus

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1129078370764001432005-10-16T17:33:00.000-07:002005-10-16T21:42:36.406-07:00

A sad fact of having a small child in a new and far flung place is that with no family nearby to call on for babysitting, one's evening social life is a little curtailed. It's not that we don't ever go out, but nights out together are much fewer than they were in Glasgow, and tend to require some advance planning. Spur of the moment stuff is definitely much harder. I had breezily thought that I

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1129008544520982352005-10-10T22:08:00.000-07:002005-10-10T22:29:04.526-07:00

Okay, last night we found two new properties listed on the internet. We've been intensively monitoring the papers and the websites, plus have registered what we're after with numerous agents.This morning I ring the two agents who are selling the listed properties.Each one tells me that their property is Under Offer (which is the equivalent of Sold Subject to Contract in the UK, and which here

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1127273862620264242005-10-10T20:37:00.000-07:002005-10-09T22:20:37.513-07:00

After the elation of securing our permanent residency visas comes the depression of househunting. I can't understand why anyone would ever do this for fun. Still less amusing is having to do it in a climate where prices are spiralling in some kind of stupid East Coast catch-up. Oh, and having to do it with a teething toddler in tow is an added delight. The supply is abysmal, there is really

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1128577505804263192005-10-05T22:35:00.000-07:002005-10-05T22:45:05.810-07:00

As of this week, we have been granted permanent residency in Australia. So we are two years away from citizenship, and thus being able to give the H a second passport and all the options that come with that. In my mind this has got to be one of the best things a parent can do in the modern world.It also means that we can, if we want to, work in New Zealand. It means that we don't have to go back

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1127968984672040252005-09-28T21:12:00.000-07:002005-09-28T21:43:04.676-07:00

At last I have finally had a day when I am not coughing up disgusting amounts of mucus and hacking explosively in the endless tale of The Cold I Caught From Daycare. This has been a particularly nasty one - it's taken well over a month in my estimation to wreak its total pattern of foulness on me - prior to that the H had it for ages, and now even the super-immune D has succumbed. D had his

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1127111493980806802005-09-18T22:22:00.000-07:002005-09-18T23:31:33.986-07:00

Anyone who has ever taken a baby anywhere vaguely off-piste has probably encountered the same vibes of disapproval that met our announcement that we were taking the H to Borneo. Okay, aside from the fact that the very word Borneo conjurs for many the image of some heart-of-darkness malaria infested tropical hellhole, there are also plenty who think that once you have a child you ought to remain

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1126842319435984852005-09-15T20:23:00.000-07:002005-09-15T21:03:43.206-07:00

We're back. Flying with a small person in tow is such a different experience. Firstly there is that collective shudder from everyone on the aircraft when they see you come down the aisle with a perky toddler in your arms. OH NOOOOOO! Please don't sit next to ME! Then once the flight is underway and it becomes obvious that your child is not the antichrist, the population divides rapidly into two

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1125465605573775332005-08-30T22:04:00.000-07:002005-08-30T22:20:05.576-07:00

There will be a short intermission while D and I take the H to Borneo for 10 days' vacation. D and I have been to Borneo once before, about 11 years ago. This time, we will be staying in better accommodation, and inevitably we have about six times as much luggage. Packing minimally with a baby is very difficult. It's all very well for your adult self to survive indefinitely with not much more

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1125376324106711022005-08-29T21:18:00.000-07:002005-08-29T21:32:04.110-07:00

Monday, August 29th - let this day stand out in history as the day that the H finally decided to LET GO AND WALK!He has been tearing round the house with his little wooden trolley for support for months. I had visions of him still pushing the wretched thing to school. Until yesterday, if you valued your eardrums at all, it was either trolley-pushing or carrying him to get around the house and

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1125236117525234112005-08-28T06:26:00.000-07:002005-08-29T20:55:49.513-07:00

Dare I mention the CRICKET? Oh, I think so!The wider issue I suppose as a wannabe Australian Permanent Resident is which team(s) one ought to support. If one is truly intent on assimilating to a new country then at what point, if ever, does or must such an allegiance switch? Sport is the ultimate test, really. The ideas of changing over passports, pensions and even changing one's accent are all

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1125211990099953912005-08-27T23:49:00.000-07:002005-08-28T21:43:05.623-07:00

The H has been babbling in rubbishy nonsense for a while now, his earnest little face watching you carefully for reactions while he imparts his latest scrambled words of wisdom. I usually say "Really?", nod and raise my eyebrows in appropriate conversational places. It's amazing how easy it is to do this - probably because I have been employing the technique with various relatives for years.But H

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1125024924551794002005-08-25T19:54:00.000-07:002005-08-28T00:00:06.956-07:00

Well, not the entire Southern Hemisphere, perhaps... but this little corner of it. This is where the "fluke" bit comes in. If I'd arrived in Perth twenty years ago I might have felt differently, but given the stage things are at now it could hardly be more perfect. It's a smallish city with an enviable mediterranean climate, a fabulous river, plenty of beaches, parks and nearby wine areas. True,

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1125024576147509962005-08-25T19:21:00.000-07:002005-08-25T19:52:50.243-07:00

We had a colleague of D's around for dinner last night. He's been out here for about a month or so, and was chatting about the kind of things that have struck him as different or weird. It was funny to hear the sorts of things that about eighteen months ago I was also discovering. Although let's be honest - if you are from the UK then Perth has to be just about the easiest place on the planet to

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15808339.post-1125022899431998892005-08-25T19:08:00.000-07:002005-08-25T19:21:39.436-07:00

Okay, so this thing works. I'm dusting down my few remaining brain cells and committing myself to start posting stuff on some kind of regular basis. This is what I planned to do a good while ago as an exercise to document the unexpected experiences of entering late motherhood and simultaneous emigration. Better late than never.Three years ago I returned from a year-long around-the-world trip, and

MotherFlukerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08348127695260310042noreply@blogger.com