Shaping young minds and busting a move (and possibly a hip)

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A lot of people have commented on how exhausted I’ve looked the past couple of weeks.
Bastards.




It’s been a crazy couple of weeks, both at work and at home.

I’m pretty sure it’s involved some of my best and worst parenting – simultaneously.

First there was work – the annual school Book Fair.

I was a Book Fair virgin, which seems an appropriate analogy, as I felt decidedly violated once it was over.

I was out the door before 7am and home after 5pm each day, whiney Feral Threesome in tow.

It was a costly experience, in more ways than one.

I spent a small fortune on books for my own kids, just to shut them up while I worked.

I spent a stupid amount of time fretting over why the Minions posters weren’t selling, why we were selling so many blue macaron erasers as opposed to pink, and wondering who was taking the “Final Copy” notes from the books.

School Library Officers – I salute you.  It was my first one, and I will spend the next 365 days recovering.

It was all for the children and so I sucked it up, self medicated with wine of an evening, and I did it.

Because I am nothing if not selfless when it comes to educating and shaping young minds.

And it was in my job description. Heh.

I didn’t have more than a day to bask in the after-glow, as it was very quickly followed by a bit of a parenting guilt trip.

Upon a quick moment of self-reflection during an ad break, intending to once again congratulate myself on going above and beyond for the children, I realised that I’d been so consumed by making the Book Fair a success, that I hadn’t actually spent much quality time with my children.

And of course they all looked so bloody angelic and quiet and well behaved when I had this realisation – because they were asleep.

And so, in the morning when they were far less angelic and quiet, I promised the world to them come Friday night – there would be bonding, fun, board games, the works!

Then Friday night rolled around and I was half way to the bottom of a bottle of Mumm (my post Book Fair treat) when I was reminded of my promises.

I vowed to do better on Saturday.

Saturday came and I steeled myself for the most fun that could be had minus wine.

I had an impromptu skipping contest with Miss6.

Totally wiped the floor with her.

Was all smug about my good, healthy parenting, and also my ability to beat a child at something moderately athletic.

Buoyed by my smugness, I then commenced a 3 hour dance off with Miss9, who then tagged in Mstr6 and Miss6.

It was on like Donkey Kong as we found the “Greatest Hits of the 90’s” marathon on one channel, and “The Hottest Hits Right Now” on the other – my two greatest musical loves.

Miss9 was raising the roof.

Miss6 was dropping it like it was hot.

We were all Gangnaming with wild abandon.

Mstr6, I think, did a little break dancing.  I think.  That or he was cleaning the floor his head.  Truthfully, knowing him, both are viable.

It was a raging success.

The kids had a blast.  I busted a move and taught them all about modern rap versus 90’s rap (it’s just a little bit faster and the clothes aren’t quite as baggy).  I ensured they would have a degree of street cred come school disco time.

EDUCATED

EXERCISED

BONDED

Nailed it.


I was clearly the most awesome, hippest parent in the land.

Was.

Until yesterday morning when I attempted to raise my body from the bed.

And suddenly it was more about a potentially busted hip than being hip.

Clearly, at some point, a steam roller has driven over my person, reversed up and gone back over me, before parking on my legs.

Dear Vodka Gods.  Everything hurts.  It all aches.

It’s like a killer hangover without the booze and drunken shenanigans the night before.

Worst of all, the kids are totally up for making it a weekly “family night” kind of gig.

Through the pain, I could only communication in a feeble, kind of Yoda-esque way.  I was all “Hmmm…great….that would…be….”

Next time I will stick to board games (which I like to refer to as bored games…because there’s only so many times you can pass Go and collect $200 without wanting to poke your eyes out with the plastic thimble…).

I can’t wait until they’re old enough for drinking games….



I can’t even…..

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The kids put the Christmas tree up last night.

Without my supervision.

I am yet to look at it.

I’m weeping on the inside for what I know will definitely not be strategic and symmetrical placement of ornaments and tinsel.


I can’t.

I just can’t.


Thank the vodka gods we’re going away for the big day, so I won’t have to be visually assaulted on the most festive day of the whole festive season.



I’m going to whack this bad boy up in the hotel room….




Not even kidding.

Still here. Still liberating booze and tablecloths

It’s been a while.

I’m sorry for that / you’re welcome.


You see, I’ve been super busy tooling around on Facebook and Pinterest.

Saving / noting all the Festive stuffs I have no intention of actually doing.


Trawling Twitter and struggling to reduce my rambling to the maximum character limit.

No chance.  Not even after a bottle of bubbly when I, personally, find myself to be at my wittiest.


I’ve been really busy at work.  Working super hard trying to be respectable and mature and not use swears while dealing with grade school children.

It’s been tough.


Trying not to use too many swears with my own children.

Failed.


Created a decent back story to impress my high school peeps at our recent reunion.

Forgot my story before I even arrived.

Liberated a whole bottle of champagne for the single-glass toast on the school grounds.

Went through my old boarding house, and explained to the current boarders how and where we used to escape to smoke.

Liberated a tablecloth from the after party because it was in the school colours.  Obviously.


Spent a HUGE amount of time chastising myself for not blogging recently.

Broke the drought with this stellar effort, which I commenced so #1Hubby would go pick the kids up from school – because, BUSY BLOGGING.


Wheeled and dealed like a pro.

Stay tuned for next year’s travel blogging hilarity, trying out a Bali hotel chain.

#1Hubby is psyched to actually be invited.  

We’re both slightly less psyched because the kids are also invited.


Started a pre-reunion diet.

Failed.

Multiple times.

Each day for about 6 weeks.


Started a pre-Bali Xmas diet.

Things are going amazingly well so far.

As in I started it today, and as of 2:48pm I have not failed.

But I have Googled “Calorie content of St Remy Brandy”.

All the woo-ing and hoo-ing because it’s like 100 calories per serve (so….200 for my big girl glass).


So anyway, I’m still here.

Not that anyone asked.


Attempting to continue exploiting my shit parenting on a more regular basis, once again.

You’re welcome / my apologies.


I leave you with a pic of my recent hard core, fancy pants, birthday partying antics….

All of the class

Treading lightly…


I bought a treadmill.

No, really.

I’ll give you a moment to digest that and cease snort laughing.

It was a bargain, as a friend no longer wanted it.

We’re going on a cruise in 4 weeks, which means this is the prime time to launch into a panic diet and exercise regime, convinced that this time I will absolutely stick to it for more than 1.5 days, and I will totally be mistaken for a supermodel while swanning around on board…

The bargain treadmill that dreams are made of was delivered on the weekend.

Soon thereafter, I realised that I don’t even own a pair of sneakers, joggers, running shoes – any form of shoe that requires laces.


———————————————————————————————-

Remember when I told you how Miss7 accused me of being “gymnastic” over breakfast one morning?  And it turned out she actually meant “sarcastic”.  And I told her that Mummy is many things, but gymnastic will never ever be one of them.

Yeah.  Here’s the proof of my severe allergy to all things athletic.  I don’t even own a pair of shoes worn while exercising….and I’m not even sure what you call them – sneakers?  Joggers?

———————————————————————————————-


So while waiting on my request to publish a fitness blog on account of my supreme knowledge of all things sporty, I dashed out to the shops to find a place that sold those shoes with the laces that people wear when choosing to make themselves sweaty and short of breath.

Miss10 steered me towards Rebel Sport.  A store I’d walked past a bazillion times in one of my local shopping centre haunts, but never even noticed.

Figures.

Lucky for me and my foolproof fitness regime, they’re currently having a pretty decent sale.

I scored $150 shoes made for people with collapsed arches to use for running (still no clue what their technical name is…), for $60.

Bargain!

Being that I have birthed three kids, I made the sage decision to check out the sports bras.

A lovely, perky, 18 year old assisted me in selecting a pair from the bargain rack that would keep everything where it used to stay all of its own accord.


Then she asked what I preferred to run in.

I was all like, um, a winery, glass in hand?

Which she only found mildly amusing / largely confusing.

She explained that some people run in Skins.

I was all like, check, got miles of it.  Even quite a bit of extra, heh.

This time confused / disgusted, slightly disguised by an awkward smile.

I nearly died when she showed me the lycra Skins.

Hell to the no.  For the sake of all humankind, no (you’re welcome).


Instead, I selected some breathable running shorts.

Complete with their own sewn in undies – a twofer!

Since they were on the bargain rack, I selected another complete set of sports bra and matching running shorts.

Because I’m totally committed to exceeding my previous exercise record of 2 weeks, and therefore I will need a second outfit, lest I wear out the first one.



I have now spent double what the bargain treadmill cost.

But, if nothing else, I will have a couple of impressive outfits to wear to the shops, to let everyone there think I’m someone who is fit and healthy and exercises.


Stay tuned.  If I make it past this first week, I will be sure to blog and brag about it as if I’d just completed a marathon.

Running backwards.

Without proper running shorts that have the undies sewn into the inside.



My expectation
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Vs

Likely outcome
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Easter : Nailed it….

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This totally ties in when you get to the part where I refer to #1Hubby’s Easter egg….



It is with great pleasure that I break my internet silence / blog laziness, to detail how I nailed Easter.

It started the week before Easter, with the kids spotting the Easter Bunny costume I had out ready for the school Easter celebrations.

Followed 5 minutes later by them spotting the sports teacher in said suit, minus the head.

As for Easter itself, I was far more prepared and on the ball.

I purchased the egg hunt goodies about a month in advance, when they were on special.

Then I forgot to take them to the #1Grandparents’ house in the country, and so I paid double the going rate, along with the other panic stricken last minute purchasers, at a small country supermarket.

I’m not proud of myself, but I may have growled a little bit at a guy eyeing off the last tray of Cadbury eggs.  It was that or a block of cooking chocolate.

Easter Saturday saw me hiding in the #1Grandparents’ garage attaching name tags to all the Easter hunt eggs.

I had learnt from previous years – Mstr7 stands in one spot looking up at the sky, as if expecting his share of the egg hunt bounty to fall from above, straight into his basket.  Meanwhile, the girls have done a couple of laps of the garden and found everything, and refuse to share anything with him except the cheap shit chocolate.

In order to ensure that, this year, nobody would have to lose their shit (Mstr7) or yell and threaten and have a tanty (me), I had printed name tags for the egg hunt.

Except I forgot those too, as I’d left them with the carefully planned out, original egg hunt eggs.  At home.  An hour and a half away.

So I hid in the #1Grandparents’ shed and gave myself RSI attempting to write half arsed new name tags with my left hand, so the kids wouldn’t pick my handwriting.

The kids repeatedly rode their bikes up the driveway and straight into me.  Literally.

Which they thought was hilarious, more so as I lost my shit and yelped at them to get out (or other such less child-friendly words….).

At this point, I figured they were just taking the piss, and so I persevered with the name tags, sustaining my efforts / consoling myself with their Easter eggs.

Saturday night, and the kids put out not one but two massive glasses of wine –  they couldn’t agree on whether the Easter Bunny would prefer red or white, so they went with one of each – and a tiny carrot (it’s at times like those that I love them fiercely and regret eating a third of their Easter eggs out of spite).

The Easter Bunny had already knocked back a fair bit of wine with her mother that evening, but lest she disappoint the eager to please children, she necked both the wines, took a teeny tiny bite out of the mini carrot, and went to bed.

6 hours later, nursing a pretty impressive hangover, it’s 5am Easter Sunday and Miss7 wakes up.  She nudges me awake to ask if she can go check what the Easter Bunny left her.

OH FFS.  The whole point of it all – the hiding of the Easter Eggs for the egg hunt….


So I’m begging her to STFU and go back to sleep, telling her she is not allowed out of the bedroom under any circumstances, until her siblings wake up.

I manage to catch her just before she jumps on her sister’s head to wake her up.

I tell her I’m going to the toilet.  So I can panic toss the egg hunt goods around the garden.

She says she will come with me.  Because she’s smarter than me.

So I tell her I’m going to do #2.

She considers this for a second, then throws me a look of disgust and lays back down.

It’s almost pitch black, cold, and quite damp outside.

I am commando crawling across the wet lawn, attempting to lay out the Easter egg hunt without being detected by Miss7, whose face is pressed against the bedroom window, trying to spot something, anything Easter-related.

Meanwhile, Mr Easter Bunny and the rest of the crew are fast asleep.

Bastards.

I finish up just in time to spot both girls standing at the back door, watching me silently swear and have a mini-meltdown while wringing the sopping wet ends of my PJ’s out on the lawn.

Long story slightly less long – everyone eventually woke up and the kids had their egg hunt.  The whole thing was over in less than 5 minutes.  Not one of them yelped with joy and elation in a manner that I had expected would warm my heart and possibly frost bitten fingers and toes.

Bastards.

All that advanced effort.  Mixed with stuff ups.  Panic measures and plan B.  All of it.  Done and dusted in the time it took me to make a cup of tea while telling #1Hubby where I was going to insert his Easter Egg for sleeping through the whole 5am panicked commando crawling.

Next year, I’m not hiding anything.  I’m just going to send them outside as per usual, and tell them to keep looking until they find something….

Trolls available on iTunes

As in the movie.  Not to be confused with my 3 sweet little darling trolls

Bring home happy, buy Trolls first on Digital HD March 1st 

I am probably the last person to the party…but…how good is downloading movies via iTunes?!?

Old-school “group viewing” would see me suffering through the whining and complaining over – and here are just a few of the regulars:

  • Who had more of the lounge
  • Who had the best position closest to the TV
  • Who has more of the TV in front of their person (can’t do division, but can work out angles and volume and the like, apparently)
  • Whose arm hair dared to touch the closest sibling
  • Who whispered/whined/talked/laughed/breathed/chewed/swallowed too loudly
  • Who had more popcorn (yes, they have been known to count every single kernel)

 

The list is, quite literally, ENDLESS.


At some point, I stopped putting DVD’s on, stopped hiring movies, stopped buying them.

For the sake of world peace and harmony and family unity.

So you can imagine my initial apprehension when offered the opportunity to download Trolls via iTunes for this here review.

The shock, the horror – the anguish of all three kids competing for prime viewing position in front of an iPad screen.  All the associated drama, threats etcetera.

I can’t even.

I was whining about this to #1Hubby when one of the kids suggested they take turns watching the movie.

And then it dawned on me – downloading movies means multiple viewings. I can separate my little darlings and avoid all sibling warfare!


Observe
Mstr8 chose to watch Trolls from the toy room.  Not the lounge, not even a chair.  Instead, nestled comfortably on a bed of three million Lego pieces on the floor, that he hasn’t put away since I first asked him to back in the summer of 2012….


Miss8 opted to view Trolls from her cubby house / personal safe room / hiding space / dodgiest, darkest corner of the toy room.  Often found in the company of raw broccoli, because that’s her snack of choice….


Miss11 went for her personal leisure suite, also known as my bedroom.  Which I am not allowed to go near whilst she is in residence, lest I invade her personal space….


All pics happily snapped by yours truly, while simultaneously carrying a glass of wine, and smiling at them lovingly because they were not attempting to enact Natural Selection upon each other.
It was a blissful weekend free from sibling arguments.

The kids all enjoyed this strange new phenomenon that is watching a movie uninterrupted.

In return, they were all more than happy to provide their opinions on Trolls.



Parental Parody Prodigies
(heh…DREAMING, I know) 
1 minute review of Trolls
It was really good.  Like, REALLY good.  Welllll….kind of like ice cream if it was a movie.  So…can I have ice cream now? – Mstr8


Poppy was soooo cute.  I love her.  It was funny, but mostly cute.  I want to watch it again every day!  (Insert her standard evil laugh) – Miss8


OMG MUM JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE!!!!  He was so awesome. (Starts singing Can’t Stop The Feeling a bazillion times and counting) – Miss11

Best of all, thanks to the whole iTunes download thing, I can now have my turn watching Trolls from the comfort of Miss11’s personal suite / my bedroom.  With wine.  Without kids.  Wearing pyjamas.  Not counting out my share of popcorn kernels.  Winning!

Bring home happy, buy Trolls first on Digital HD March 1st


For your own sanity, perfectly timed for the impending school holidays, download Trolls from iTunes for your own little trolls darlings.

You’re welcome.

Sun Island Bali : Part 2 – Seminyak and Kuta



Following on from my previous post, I bring you our final two stops.


Our third stay was a place I’ve honestly wanted to try for many years – 

Sun Island Boutique Villas & Spa Seminyak.

I’ve never stayed in a villa, mostly because we usually travel with extended family, and they prefer hotels (also…they don’t have kids, so the prospect of a kitchen, dining area, lounge etc. doesn’t really factor in for them).

We were in a Two Bedroom Villa with a plunge pool.

I was still being shown the features of the villa by one of the incredibly nice staff, and the kids had already donned their bathers and jumped in the pool.



And that is pretty much where they stayed for the next couple of days.

We’re lucky enough that our kids can all swim, and it wasn’t a large pool.  So while they repeatedly practised diving to the bottom, #1Hubby was able to watch his beloved AFL football grand final in peace in the living room – where he could easily keep an eye on them thanks to the floor to ceiling glass bi-fold doors.

I was already out the door, hot footing it all of 3 minutes down the road to Bintang Supermarket.

I love Bintang Supermarket.  I always go there.

A couple of hours later, satisfied I’d left no aisle neglected, I was back at our villa, filling the fridge with cheese, wine, fresh fruit and veg for the kids.  Then I spent a good 30+ minutes swanning around, looking at all the appliances I had no intention of using, before calling room service and ordering dinner.

Kids still in the pool, obviously.

Can I just say, the food at Sun Island Boutique Villas & Spa Seminyak was the best I’ve had at any hotel in Bali.  It truly was up to the famous Seminyak foodie standards.  So much so that I was slightly alarmed when #1Hubby made some rather inappropriate noises for a dining table while scoffing his seafood pasta.  And I may have threatened to chop off a chubby little finger that made its way onto my plate in search of bacon from my Caesar salad, which I was protecting with one hand while scoffing a different pasta of my own.

On our second night at the hotel, #1Hubby and I celebrated our wedding anniversary.  We took a taxi to “Eat Street” in Seminyak, and tried out a bar and restaurant we’d never been to before.

Because Google informed me that they had fairy floss drinks and therefore there was no question that we simply had to try it out.

I was eloquently sipping a cocktail when the kids’ non-alcohol mocktails arrived…




Not one to be outdone, or miss out on a good thing, I of course had to sample their adult version of a fairy floss cocktail….

It just screams class, doesn’t it!

When it came time to grab a food menu, we were all kind of “myeh…it all looks good….but….how amazing was that dinner in the villa last night?!?!”

And so we went straight back to our villa and ordered room service.  Once again, our meals arrived and were laid out on our dining table, and once again, we had one of the best meals we’ve ever eaten in a hotel.

And once again we had to force the kids to get out of the pool and eat before their dinner went cold.  That said – bonus points for having a restaurant standard meal in your own private space, where the kids could be swimming and not annoying you at a restaurant table because they’re borrrreeeddd.

I can’t recommend Sun Island Boutique Villas & Spa Seminyak enough.  Whether you have a private pool villa or a standard villa and use the main pool – you’ll love it.  The property really suits all travellers – 

Couples who want a private space of their own, away from other people.  You can enjoy the main pool for some company, or retreat to your own private pool and the space of your villa.

Families like us, travelling with kids – having that private area to relax, and the freedom for them to let loose in our own pool was invaluable.  We did use the main pool once, and it was nice when they wanted to swim around in a larger pool, and we could enjoy chatting with some other guests.

Villa upper deck – not to be outshone by the lower deck, has a large open area with a fantastic bale.
Complete with lights and fan. Because it’s all about comfort.


The villas are very spacious, modern and well kitted out – especially if you love a large bathroom – from the outdoor rain shower, to the rest of the massive bathroom with separate indoor shower, toilet with 2 doors so you can access it from the living room as well as the bedroom, and huge double sink with lots of storage space.

Speaking of storage space – the wardrobes in both bedrooms were huge, with lots of shelves, cupboard and hanging space.  The kitchen, if you’re less lazy than me and you are interested in cooking for you and yours (but why bother, the room service is amazing), has everything you need and lots of place to store your supplies.  I have to admit, I really did like that I could prepare my kids their daily school style “Crunch N Sip” snack of carrot sticks, cherry tomatoes, capsicum, cucumber and the like (and appease my parental guilt about all the chips and nuggets that were being consumed at night).

The large fridge was a pure joy – lots of ice for my wine, and lots of wine in the fridge amongst #1Hubby’s beer, and the kids’ water…and Miss11’s endless supply of soda water…because she’s 11 now and she’s fancy and soda water is how she rolls…

I can honestly say that I will definitely be staying here again.  On my own dime.  Totally worth it.


Our final stay was the newest addition to the group, Sun Island Hotel Kuta.

Another prime location, just a short walk down from Discovery Shopping Mall, (also the newer Lippo Mall in the opposite direction), plus everyones favourite Bali day out – Waterbom Park.

We often stay in Bali over Christmas and New Year, and the traffic at that time gets pretty horrific for about a 10 day period when Indonesians have their holidays.  I love me some Discovery Shopping Mall.  If I don’t get there every couple of days, I start to panic that somebody will nab a bargain that I’ve somehow missed on my previous 287 visits.  It really pains me to either spend a ridiculous amount of time trying to get there, or forgo visiting for that 10 days of crazy traffic each December/January.  Never again – I’m going to book in at the Sun Island Hotel Kuta, and walk there.  Multiple times a day.  Because I can.  #1Hubby is less jazzed by the prospect of this, and has threatened to hide the credit card if I follow through on this plan for future Christmas / New Year trips.  Game on.

We stayed in a Family Suite, and were once again afforded a massive living room between our two rooms.  I blissfully set about unpacking and attempting to fill up all the space we had….and then it all turned bad…

Mstr7 (not me, just to be clear) had accidentally left his beloved companion, “Goggy” at the villas.

Hysteria ensued (a little bit me too, at this point).

#1Hubby sped off to Reception to ask if they could possibly call the villas and see if it was there.

Of course it was.

Before he could grab Mstr7 and jump in a taxi, the staff had organised with the villas for them to bring Goggy to us.

Yes.  A villa van and driver were going to drop everything to bring a stuffed toy to us, in peak hour traffic.

They wouldn’t hear about us going there and getting it, or even letting us pay for a taxi to bring it over.

So while I busied myself with a glass of wine in my OUTDOOR GARDEN BATH, #1Hubby and Mstr7 waited for the VIP guest to arrive, with strict instructions for Mstr7 to thank them profusely when Goggy pulled into the driveway – strapped in to his own seat and all.

Seriously you guys…that’s the level of care and service at Sun Island Bali.

Back to our hotel, and what I absolutely LOVED here was not just the proximity to shopping malls, but the pool.

Image Source – I do not have the photographic skillz to capture this image myself.
As it is, this is a large part of the pool, but not the whole thing.

Check out that bad boy!  Free form, large enough for everyone to enjoy without a kick in the ribs from your kid.  And the entire pool is the one depth – we could all stand, even the twins.  Again with the peace of mind that nobody would paddle over to a deeper area where they couldn’t stand if they got in trouble.

Breakfast also deserves a mention – the restaurant area is massive, and there are different stations throughout.  It was one of the largest breakfast spreads I’ve seen in Bali.  Whether you were after Western dishes, eggs cooked to order, European style cold meats and salads, a huge range of bakery goods and fresh fruits, or Asian style soups, porridge, noodles and the like – it had everything.  You certainly didn’t need to worry too much about lunch after making your way around all the food stations.




So, all up – Sun Island Bali – I would definitely go back.  Particularly to the Villas in Seminyak, as they were my personal favourite.  If it had the infinity pool of Sun Island Legian, and the prime shopping mall-friendly location of Sun Island Kuta….I would probably move in and never leave.


Each property is in a prime location, whether you’re after close proximity to Seminyak’s restaurants, Legian Road’s bar and club scene, or Kuta’s shopping malls.  There are styles of accommodation to suit those on a budget, couples seeking a private villa, or families after something with a little room to spread out and relax.

Rooms are modern, clean and comfortable.  Villas are full of space and all the mod con’s you’d expect.

The staff are extremely friendly, helpful and accommodating.

As endorsed by this guy and his beloved Goggy.



Sun Island Bali : Part 1 – Legian and Kuta



I’ll tell anyone who will listen (and even those who won’t) how much I love Bali.  It’s my favourite place in the world, and I’m fortunate enough to visit regularly.

You can imagine my completely understated reaction when offered the chance to review the Sun Island Bali group of hotels….

I mean, I played it cool, you guys.  I held my hand back from the keyboard for a whopping minute or two before banging out a “Oh that sounds nice….” response.

I had used that minute or two to phone my mother and be all “OMIGOD I’M GOING TO BALI AGAIN!”

She was all massive jealous eye roll (perceived over the phone) and “Don’t you have children to look after?”.  

And I was all petulant teenager style sigh and “THEY’RE INVITED!”.

And then we were both all “Bahahaha….they (Sun Island Bali) have no idea what they’re in for!”

Those of you following along on Facebook will have seen the daily updates, pics and posts about our trip.  No surprise that we loved every second of it.

I’ve saved the full details of our experience for these two posts.

Because we all know how I bang on about things, so at the risk of creating the world’s longest blog post, I’m going to split it into two.


First up we stayed at Sun Island Hotel & Spa Legian.


Check out that infinity pool.

I spent quite a bit of our 3 days leaning over the infinity pool, watching Legian Road happen.  I love me some people watching, and that was the best spot in the house.  

And if you want a bit more sun and privacy, allow me to introduce the rooftop pool….


The rooftop pool was perfect for The Feral Threesome when they wanted to let loose and make a bit of noise, create a few waves, and generally annoy everyone around them – we had the entire pool to ourselves.  I LOVE that the whole rooftop pool was one depth, and all of the kids (and my vertically challenged self) could all stand.  It set the parental panic merchant’s (#1Hubby) mind at ease, meaning I didn’t have to watch him patrol the perimeter of the pool like he was rehearsing for a spot on Baywatch.

Location, Location, Location – if you love Legian then you’ll love this hotel.  It’s extremely well priced, the rooms are clean and have everything you need, and the bathrooms are modern (none of those luke warm, dripping showers like in some Bali hotels).  My tip – go for the Suite room if you can afford it.  It is huge.  Ample space for all your shopping, and a bathtub big enough for all 3 of my kids at once.


Next up, we had 3 days at White Rose Kuta Resort Villas & Spa.

White Rose Kuta pool water feature. Kept the kids entertained way more than you’d think
(like, read a whole book by the pool without interruption kind of entertained)
I was looking forward to this hotel.  I’ve known about it for many years, but wasn’t aware it was part of the Sun Island Bali group.  My Aunt always stays here, and it’s been on my list to try for quite a while.

That said, I was a bit wary of its location – tucked behind the Ground Zero memorial, opposite the legendary Poppies Lane 2….right in the heart of the ‘nightclub strip’ of Kuta / Legian.  Back in the day, I would’ve been all over that and straight in the club to bust a move on the D-floor to all the doof-doof music.  But being 27 (shut up) and a mother of 3 young kids, the potential noise and resident nightclub frequenters was playing on my mind as we drove the short distance down Legian Road from the first hotel.

We rounded the corner behind the memorial and I was really pleasantly surprised to see a short lane that led into a large hotel complex, set around a lot of greenery.

And zero noise.  At all.

You would have no clue you were literally behind one of the main corners and in the heart of the pub and club district.

In fact, it was so civilised we indulged in high tea!

Only had to smack a couple of hands that tried to steal the best desserts before I got to them.

We stayed in a Family Suite.  Normally, when we travel, we simply book interconnecting rooms.  This was our first experience in a Family Suite.

I LOVE A FAMILY SUITE.

All that extra room.  The benefit of having a living area to spread out in and / or separate fighting bratty children (who have already forgotten that they are fortunate enough to be included in this experience when they could just have easily been left at home….).

Three televisions were our salvation during our stay.  When the kids weren’t in the pool, they were water logged, tired and whiney, arguing over TV programs.  #1Hubby and I just wanted to enjoy one of our THREE BALCONIES (I know, I’m just being a jerk and showing off now) with a glass of wine, and the ability to literally put all 3 kids in different rooms with a TV each until they fell asleep at night was a lifesaver.

We met a few families at the White Rose who were staying there for the 4th or 5th time.  I asked a couple why they kept returning to the hotel, and they loved the size of the property and the masses of lawn for the kids to run around, and the location – in the middle of everything, but you aren’t bothered by it if you don’t want to actually be in the middle of everything.  Also, those family suites.  All that room.  All those balconies.



Stay tuned for Part 2, including our first villa stay, and the best food we’ve had in a long time.  Also some wedding anniversary celebrations and fairy floss.

You know you want to read it if only for the fairy floss….

Father’s Day Gift Guide – How to nail it (you’re welcome)

Father’s Day is imminent.


In our family, we celebrate Mother’s Day by Daddy taking the kids out and allowing yours truly some kid-free time.  It’s the best way to reflect on the little darlings in their most positive light – when they’re not there whining for food or justice over some perceived sleight from their siblings.

Father’s Day is all about Dad spending quality time with his kids.  So, once again, Daddy takes the little darlings out in order to truly enjoy some memory making time with them.

Heh.

Let me break it down for you, how we roll in the Parental Parody family on the big day….


Early, crack of dawn, still dark outside

Kids have been instructed not to wake me up, because it is Daddy’s special day.  Go jump on him and shower him with love / elbows in ribs / shouting in ears over who has a better spot on top of his formerly sleeping form.

Once sufficiently and permanently roused from his slumber, he will shhhh them so that I am not disturbed, even though we both know I’m pretending to be asleep.

Then they’ll attempt to make him breakfast.

Within 3 minutes #1Hubby will sagely decide to take them to Macca’s for the breakfast of cheapskate champions at under $5 a head.


The day

I’ll have already helpfully organised some meaningful family activities for #1Hubby to do with the kids, including but definitely not limited to….

Gardening
Teach them, bond with them, plant some seeds and remove the weeds – it’s a win/win for everyone!

Bored Board Games
Sadistically long ones.  Like Snakes and Ladders….just when you think the end is near, no, a bloody long snake sends you slithering back to the start…it is the game that keeps on keeping on.

The park
I am deathly allergic to the park, and of all the days of the year, it is a Dad’s domain on Father’s Day.  I went once on Father’s Day (clearly very early in our parenting years), and I was the only mother there. Never again.

Home theatre / concert / interpretive dance
Kids love nothing more than putting on a show.  Again, I am deathly allergic, therefore I will probably plant the seed and suggest an epic 3 part show that they can stage for their father.  In the shed.  So that I can enjoy some reality TV in peace.


The evening


This is where I truly step up to the plate – I cook dinner.  Just like every night.

If I’m lucky, #1Hubby will be hankering for takeaway in lieu of a roast dinner.

If he’s lucky, I won’t have consumed a great deal of wine by that stage, and may even do him the supreme honour of going out to collect it for him.



The gift


What do I gift the man who gifted me the three little darlings that I very affectionately (and, often, accurately) refer to as “The Feral Threesome“?

What gift for the man who, upon investigation, discovered that he does, in fact, have a history of multiple births in his family, and is, therefore, responsible for the Twin Tornado?

Here are some of my top picks that I’m tossing up from stupid.com – don’t let the name put you off, these bad boys are far from stupid….


The Man Sack Fanny Pack


Dead sexy.
Yours for the bargain price of $12.99 – amazingly, this is not completely sold out so close to Father’s Day!
It screams practicality – I can’t wait to go out with #1Hubby sporting this bad boy.  No longer will I have to carry around his keys, his sunglasses, his phone etc. etc. in my bag.


Over The Hill Rectal Thermometer

You guys, is this not the ultimate gift that very clearly portrays your sincere care and concern for the man in your life who is frequently claiming man flu / fever / possible contagion on account of the aforementioned flu and fever symptoms?

Cheapest medical equipment ever – at just $7.99 you could probably get one for each of the men in your life.



Snore Stopper


How have I not heard of this before?

This is probably more for me than him.

But who cares.  $6.99 is far cheaper than marital therapy and sleeping tablets, right?


Inflatable Toupee



All of the yes.

Look at that happy face?

Pretty sure this $4.99 bargain is ridiculously under-priced.


And if all of those winners fail to float his boat, the carton of wine that I just ordered online will be sure to do the trick.


Walkers Hill Shiraz – my new local WA find.  So good it will make up for all of my non-parenting on Father’s Day




5 minutes : Part 2 (the other 2 and a half minutes for those who are sticklers for numbers and accuracy)

Refer to last week’s post for a funny pic / excellent cake design

Alternatively titled – It’s the little things

Alternatively alternatively titled – It’s been a slow week

Alternatively alternatively alternatively titled – Because I can


Recycled alternatives from the last post because I’m an alternative kind of girl.

Not really.

Because I stuffed up and they are totally more appropriate on this post.

And they kind of almost make sense on this one.  As opposed to the previous one.



Following on from my previous post of woe, I bring you part 2.


So in light of recent shitty events, I was in need of a little pick me up.

Since wine was, tragically, not cutting it – I had to resort to other measures.

Including copious viewing of Facebook and You Tube clips, since I have exhausted all of my Foxtel recordings.

One such clip was of a Cesarean section where the bub was allowed to ease its own way out once the incision was made and the head was out.

It was truly delightful, touching, sweet, and also slightly gross since I was eating dinner at the same time.

Mstr7 came over to see what I was doing, and I was too engrossed in it all to even consider that maybe it wasn’t the kind of thing he’d usually view.

No matter, he hung around, watched the full 5 minutes of joyous wonderment alongside me whilst displaying a number of entertaining facial expressions, before finally asking exactly what he was watching.

So I told him it was a c-section, which was how he and his twin sister were born, since they were the wrong way around to come out the normal way (I then very quickly moved on to explaining what a breech position is, before he could ask what the normal exit path was for a baby….I just couldn’t).

In the interests of accuracy and full disclosure, I explained that, in my case, the second baby came out next.

And then, just for the fun of it, just because I could – I told him that he was born first, exactly 5 minutes before Miss7.  

It played out nothing like I’d expected it would.

He was not remotely jazzed by the idea of being a whole 5 minutes older.

She was not remotely pissed by the idea of being a whole 5 minutes younger.

Fingers crossed it has the desired / expected effect when they’re a little older and every single second of age counts.

I was disappointed.  Let down.

I admit, I had attempted to enact sibling anarchy and failed.

Before you judge – this took place while #1Hubby was away working in Noumea.  

I know, right?  As if anyone goes there to work.  If I didn’t manage our bank accounts I’d be convinced he’d booked his own junket just to get away from all the awesomeness that is our family unit / his workplace (he works from home, lucky guy!).

Anywho, on top of everything else that has happened recently, it was just an utterly shit 5 minutes of my day….

We were eating dinner at home, freezing cold (not in a hotel in Noumea, fancy wanky cocktail in hand).

And, the kids were whining and faux vomiting over the injustice that is being served broccoli and cabbage in the same meal.

And, I was all woeful over my current lack of taste wine-buds meaning I could not self-medicate my own way through the horror of cabbage, leading by example and masking the yuck-ness of it.

And, at that exact moment in the whole dinner process, the cat decided to become a serial killer, bringing in a very large dead rodent – either a ginormous mouse or a fairly impressive rat.

And, he chose to bat it around in full view, under our glass topped dinner table, fuelled by our yelps, squealing and gagging.

And, I had to man-up and attempt to calmly sweep the rodent outside while barking at the kids to STFU and eat their bloody cabbage and be thankful for it, because there are many starving rodents out there who would love the chance to eat it….

So, you know, I think I did pretty well.  All things considered.

#1Hubby has since returned home.  Scared to show his tropical island tan.  Happy to parent.

I’ve enjoyed a weekend of sleeping in.  

I’m all geared up for another week of attempting to regain my wine buds.

Fingers crossed.