Oh what a night …

And a day, and a night… I’m sorry for the silence on the Face First front (if you’ve noticed?) but I’ve been living large IN THE REAL WORLD what!? It seems June is the festival month of births. Everyone who is anyone (i.e. my husband and friends) is born in June.

There has been a June bonanza of birthdays, and upon waking on Tuesday morning, I was slapped with the rude realisation that we’ve not all just turned 21. Thursday night – 1am. Friday work from 6am. Bed -10pm. Saturday night – 12pm. Sunday – BBQ at ours from midday – 1am. Monday – husband’s ACTUAL birthday, start-time, 7am with BOUNCING CHILDREN. I have learned something from this experience. Celebrations are bad for your health. This week? I will be holed up in my monastery, behaving like a monk, doing monk-like things. I will be drinking water (broth? holy water?), making friends with salad (gruel? vittels?), and going to the gym (err… kneeling for 5 hours? Ugh. I’d pick the stairmaster over that). I will sleep. And sleep, and sleep. (But it won’t be fun, cos I’m a monk).

Lights_opt

Oh what a tangled birthday web That Man weaves

It seems most of my friends are born in June. Why is that? What is it that happens nine months before June? Is it the springing of spring? Couples, walking around, see a baby lamb and a daffodil, and say ‘Oh! New life! We must procreate! QUICKLY! Give me your SEED!’ Or was it the irresistible music topping the charts in September 1976, when most of these friend-babies were conceived? In late August, early September the Australian no. 1 single was ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’. Ah. It all becomes clear. Young and sweet, only 17. That’s the music of LOVE, right there. Are you cringing yet, friends of mine?

In any case, preceding the festival of husband on Sunday, we went out in Manly Saturday night to celebrate a close friend’s birthday. It was a quiet and sedate night. In the cab on the way home one unnamed male party offered the cab driver a cheese stick from his pack of 12 he’d picked up from Colesworths, and the other asked the cabbie what he does for work. It turned out there were in fact TWENTY-FOUR cheese sticks. They were on special, so it made sense to buy two packets. We ate them all by the time we were home.

Girls out in the the REAL WORLD drinking … water.

Girls out in the the REAL WORLD drinking … water.

The lunchtime BBQ Sunday was a day full of friends, family, and kids going crazy. A wonderful fun day that ended in the night with a bonfire and toasted marshmallows. That Man is SMART, I tell you – having his party the day before. I awoke to excited kids, tiptoed away from Sleeping Beauty, and faced wine glasses that had procreated and had wine glass babies while we slept. Wrapped presents, blah blah YAY YAY IT”S YOUR BIRTHDAY  YOU’RE REALLY OLD YAY YAY then I crashed out and slept on the couch for two hours. AHHHHHHHH. Job well done me. Then I cooked a gourmet seafood dinner. The only thing he said that was missing from his birthday? A cake with candles. SERIOUSLY. I’ll give him candles.

This is how you occupy kids for HOURS. My technicolour  chalk path and bricks look gorgeous.

This is how you occupy kids for HOURS. My technicolour chalk path and bricks look gorgeous.

In any case, I had fun too. My festival of living in the real world was wonderful, connecting with friends and spending proper quality time with them. If you need me this week though, you’ll find me asleep on my stationary bike in my monk cell at the gym.*

*An update: it’s raining, a LOT. I can’t possibly go to the gym. Therefore I’ll just sit quietly and think repentant-type thoughts.

Do you still ‘do’ birthdays? Or do you let them slip by quietly like I do? 

xx

Happy oneth birthday, little O

Taking a walk on the wild side

 

My little nephew turned one yesterday. Nothing really alerts you to the passing of time like a little person having a birthday, and even more when it’s their very FIRST birthday. How could this beautiful boy be one already? I could swear he was just born yesterday, a snuggle of blue eyes and grabbing fingers and milky-sweet skin. Ahhhh baby skin. I have a slightly freaky obsession with smelling it, but friends stop fearing me when they’re around 4 months and I stop sniffing.

One year ago

Little O is my very first nephew. In a way, now, I understand how grandparents feel when they speak of the love they have for their grandchildren. It’s all big and happy, without any of the hard stuff. I haven’t been the auntie to this little guy that I’d like to have been, because we’ve had a really rough year and I feel like I’m all ‘used up’, like I don’t have anything spare. I’m just so worn out I don’t have the extra ‘oomph’ to be able to grab this lovely little man and take him overnight for a sleepover, like his parents used to do for me. I’m sad about that, and a bit guilty, because little O’s parents are the most lovely, warm, caring people, and having your first baby is hard and sometimes lonely. I do feel like I’ve let them down. If I can make it up by loving him from over here, then I will!

The execution of Hoot

The demolition of Hoot

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today I’m making a birthday wish for him. I wish that he grows up to be happy, healthy, and respectful. I think that if he is all of those things, then other good things will likely follow.  So far the happiness is on track, and while health is a lottery, his mum’s feeding him all the colours of the vitamin rainbow – and is a great role model. And respect? Well, I don’t know any adult who is disrespectful towards other people and manages to achieve very much in either their personal or professional relationships. Again, with two great role models, I think this one’s covered.

 

A beautiful party in a beautiful garden. Happy days.

This beautiful little family is very shortly moving to New Zealand to live and work, so there’s one more very important wish I need to make for little O. May you come back to Australia before too long, not speaking funny when you do, and be sure to remember that you support the WALLABIES, though I’ll be happy to make the trip to come and visit you to watch Dan Carter kick, and miss, a couple of penalties any day. Be strong. They will not overcome. I will not mention the sheep.

I love you O Bear.

xxx Auntie Kim