of polish & parks…

And while I’m talking of ‘p’ words, Scully the Pony is doing pretty well, and the family has all loaded up to go get him from the vet’s. Surgery seems to have gone well, and so did the process of waking him up from the anesthesia. So, I’ve been told that he’s wrapped in an array of colored bandages, and will be coming home to heal. The kids wanted to know if they can ever ride him again, but they were assured that (if all continues well) they’ll be able to ride him again, eventually. I asked one of the littles if she’d want to give someone a piggyback ride if she had a cut in her tummy, and she said “Nooooooo.”.

In the late morning, the baby went down for a nap, and things slowed down for a bit. This allowed for the 3 year old’s informing me that she was going to paint my fingernails. I managed to talk her down to one color, as oppose to four, as we had a time limit, with the baby possibly waking up at any moment. I did not particularly want to pick her up, and get nail polish all over her. So, down we sat with the newspaper, on the floor, and my fingernails, and a good bit of my fingers got painted. Then, she had to be patient while I waved my hands around like a crazy person, willing them to dry before I heard any wails from the bedroom.

I must admit, with having only brothers, I have no recollection of nail painting sessions, though I probably had them with my mom. It would not have been a regular occurrence, however. And I don’t think I’ve ever had a little girl paint my nails for me, either, because I’ve never babysat them long enough to run out of other things to do. So, this was a slightly new experience for me. And when my nails dried, and it was my turn to paint her nails, the funny part is that I probably painted “outside the lines” just as much on her, as she did on me, because her nails are so very little. The brush was almost bigger than her fingers! She went out on the veranda, and rode her scooter up and down, while her nails dried.

The afternoon got busier, though the house cleaner came, and the little ones went down for their afternoon naps. It was decided that I would pick up the older girls from school. Christina would be cleaning the floors soon, so keeping the girls outside was imperative. So, I was to wake the littles up, pile them into the car, and go get the others. From there, we would go to the park with a few balls to play with, and we would eat our smoko there. Sounds easy, right? Well, if you’re a mom, you’ll know it isn’t quite so simple.

I really need to discover if there’s a diaper bag (no, I don’t call them nappies) in the house, but I knew I needed at least one diaper, just in case. So, into the car went a bag with the baby necessities, as well as a netball, a soccer ball, and my Frisbee. I still haven’t seen netball played yet, by the way. You’re not supposed to kick it, and it looks like a volleyball, but a lot harder and rougher. I think the sport involves a lot of throwing.  Anyway, I also packed water bottles, fruit, Lamington cookies, and a sheet to sit on. If you’ve never had Lamingtons, I’ve discovered that they’re an Australian staple made of sponge cake, thinly coated with chocolate icing, and then covered in a layer of shredded coconut. Wikipedia called it “desiccated coconut”, which struck me as funny, even though it only means dried up. I tend to think of that word in other contexts.

I shoveled the kids out of bed, and almost forgot the baby’s bottle, and somebody had to go ‘wee’ before we left, but we finally managed to get out of the driveway, to the school, and eventually to the park. One of the girls finally lost her tooth, so that had to be stored safely in the car while we went outside. The kids enjoyed their fruit and Lamingtons, while the baby enjoyed her bottle for smoko. Plenty of squabbling over the sports equipment, as is to be expected when you’re looking out for five kids.

But I survived. We were there from 3o-45 minutes, and spent part of it on the playground, where I had to lay down the law to Little Miss Mischief who wanted her own way, while I kept the baby on my hip. Yes, you mothers out there, you think this is all old hat. But I’m proud of myself, because I didn’t work my way up, child by child, I dove in headfirst, starting off with 2-5 kids, depending on the time of day. And we all went home in one piece. Isn’t that something to be proud of?

Some more minor squabbles rounded off the day, and I was able to “knock off” a little after five. Took my camera out to get some pictures of the sun going down, gained a few more mosquito bites, and came in to try a swig of the Bundaberg sarsaparilla soda that I bought at Woolie’s, last night. Sarsaparilla is a soda, similar to root beer, and only sold by that name in a few places in the U.S. The sarsaparilla root is apparently a primary ingredient in root beer, too, so root beer, birch beer, and sarsaparilla all have a similar taste. It was good, but not beyond wonderful. But then, I’ve never been a big soda person, and have trouble finishing a bottle before it goes flat.

While looking through the fridge for my soda, I noticed the tzatziki sauce, in passing, and remembered that I tried naan bread, for the first time, the other night. Described to me as an Indian flatbread, the kind we ate had some spices on it, and we had it as an appetizer, with tzatziki sauce. Now, I’m not a big fan of cucumbers, but I’ve had tzatziki sauce with gyros before, and it hadn’t occurred to me that you could eat it on anything else.

We also had a visit from the kids’ grandpa, as he was helping Mrs. B with Scully, and stopped to play with the kids for a bit. I was able to quiz him on the trees in the yard, so one of these days, I’ll share what I’ve learned about eucalyptus trees. But for now, I’m going to knock off.   : )

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