Daddy's Girl

When I was little, I thought my Dad could do anything. I remember holding his hand and feeling so safe, confident that no harm could come to me when I was with him. And I still know that Dad will always look after me.

And I love that Abbey feels the same way about her own Dad.


She and Steve have a special relationship - they're so similar, it's like seeing the same person in different sizes. Both have an odd combination of being extremely easygoing and yet very, very determined. Both love the same foods, and would eat an entire shop full of fruit and litres upon litres of milk in one sitting. Both are adventurous and love life.

And both love nothing more than making people laugh. Abbey will ask, "Am I funny?" and thinks a positive answer is the biggest compliment there is. Just like her Dad.

Our little munchkin is certain that her Daddy can fix anything. She'll tear a piece of paper and say, "It's okay, Daddy will fix it." And I don't want to correct her, I don't want her learn that he can't fix everything. Not yet.

When I see the two of them together, my heart almost bursts. These two make my life amazing.

How lucky am I?

Smoking in outdoor eating areas? NO.

Me (coughing, squinting and waving my hands around wildly): "Um, are you right?"

Him: "What?"

Me: "All that smoke!"

Him: "It's a smoking zone."

Me: "Not near my daughter it isn't. Put it out."

Him (to waitress): "We're moving to that table over there, okay?"

I remember when I used to go to nightclubs and pubs - I always hated that feeling of being clogged up with smoke the next morning. And I used to whinge and complain to anyone smoking near me, and warn them that the day would come when smoking would be outlawed from those venues. No one believed me. Furthermore, they thought I was an outspoken cow who needed to have a drink and relax.

Well, it's now been outlawed from pubs and clubs, and basically anywhere inside. But outside eating areas? Still legal (here in Victoria).

And it's wrong. Why can't I sit outside with my family, enjoying a meal in the fresh air, without having to deal with clouds of smoke?

I have no tolerance for smoking. Smoke near me, and you'll hear my big commotion of coughing and spluttering and complaining.

Smoke near my daughter (or any other children with me) and you'll be told very plainly - Go Away.

Bake: Nectarine Tart with Orange Syrup

Following on from today's earlier post, where I showed you what I've been cooking lately, here is the recipe for a beautiful tart - a nice, sweet, light dessert.

Nectarine Tart with Orange Syrup

2.5 nectarines, halved and stones removed (I used plums!)
1/4 cup caster sugar
90g butter, softened
1/2 cup caster sugar, extra
2 eggs
1 cup almond meal
1/4 cup plain flour
2 teaspoons lemon rind, finely grated
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
orange syrup
1 cup orange juice
1/4 cup orange-flavoured liqueur
1/2 cup caster sugar

To make the orange syrup, place the orange juice, liqueur and sugar in a small saucepan over high heat and bring to the boil. Reduce the heat to low and simmer for 10-12 minutes or until the mixture thickens. Set aside and allow to cool.

Heat a large frying pan over medium heat. Sprinkle the nectarine halves with the sugar and cook, cut-side down, for 2-3 minutes or until the sugar is melted and golden. Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 160°C. Place the butter and sugar in a food processor (or mixer) and process until just combined. Add the eggs, almond meal, flour, lemon rind and baking powder, and process until just combined.

Spoon the almond mixture into a lightly greased 12cm x 35cm rectangular loose bottom tart tin. Press the nectarines into the mixture and bake for 30 minutes or until cooked when tested with a skewer.

Allow to cool and serve with the orange syrup.

Enjoy!

What's cooking at my place?

We all love new things. Some love new clothes, some love new accessories, others are excited by new things for their house... okay, I tick all those boxes.

Another thing I'm addicted to is new cookbooks.

When I get a new cookbook my meal plans for the next couple of weeks have a definite theme to them. A new French book means lots of desserts and pastries, a new Italian book equals lots of experimenting with different types of pasta.

This time, it's eight new books at once. Yes, eight (mini-cookbooks). Which has meant lots of variety at least. What's been cooking at my place this week?

Merguez Lamb Rissoles with Couscous...
(Delicious!)

Nectarine Tart (no nectarines around, so mine's a Plum Tart!) with Orange Syrup... 
(LOVE! - I'll be posting this recipe later today.)

Hotcakes with Cinnamon Butter...
(A good example of my love-hate relationship with Donna Hay. Some of my best recipes are hers, and most of my huge failures are hers too. The above tart was hers, and absolutely beautiful. These hotcakes looked so promising but were awful!)

Pasta with Roasted Vegetables...
(A yummy, quick and nutritional meal for the family.)

From eight mini-cookbooks, I had three clear favourites, as many of the others were a little ambitious for a family's standard meals. But they're a great, cheap way to find out if you love or loathe a certain style of cooking or a celebrity chef.

Where can you get these books? The Mini Cookbook Collection is released by Sydney's Daily Telegraph, every second day for the month of May, for $2 each. Enjoy!

[Disclaimer - eight of these mini-cookbooks were sent to me for review, and I am being paid by Kidspot to write this post. However, my views are not bought - everything I have written is my own opinion.]


Check out some other great Food Month recipes from other bloggers...
My Little Drummer Boys: Coffee and Chocolate Self-Saucing Pudding
Toushka Lee: Nachos and White Chocolate Cheesecake
Seven Cherubs: Roast Chicken with Pancetta and Sage and White Chocolate Cheesecake
Beautiful You: Berry Crumble

My secret-keeping strategy

A few years ago, in an amazing case of all the planets aligning, we travelled to Europe at six weeks notice with four friends.

For one of those friends, B, the entire trip was a surprise.

This was a hard secret to keep. And so, I avoided B for those few weeks. Of course, this left her wondering if something was wrong and she made the effort to catch up with me, even offering to join me on a long drive (home from a girls' weekend with a group of friends).

Catching up with B is never a hard task, and normally we could chat all day. But during those weeks, it was hard work. I had to carefully think through every word exiting my mouth to make sure it wouldn't lead to me talking about the only thing on my mind: Europe. The fact that very soon, we would be sailing around Croatia and shopping in London.

When I have to keep a secret, I have one strategy: avoidance.

Now that you know this about me, you may understand if I'm a little quiet online at the moment.

I'm working on something big - huge, bigger than huge - that I can't share. All I can tell you is that I'm starting up a new business (yay!), and because I don't have much else on my mind, because I'm nearly drowning in business plans and bank meetings and to-do lists, and because I'm worried about blurting it all out - I may retreat to my safe place.

Hiding under my shell.

Autumn.

Autumn. The season of leaves falling and weather cooling...

Autumn. The season of vivid colours.

Autumn. The fallen leaves are the beginning of an art project, a fun stompy walk. Or a kite.

Autumn. The season of fun and freedom.

My two-year-old shopaholic

When I recently noticed how unloved Abbey looked, in her too-short pants, too-tight tops and tights that hang halfway down her legs, I thought I should schedule in a shopping trip.

Little did I realise how much she loves accessories...

Browsing...

Ooh I like this one...
(Meanwhile I was saying, you can choose ONE!)
(And choosing just one took ten minutes.)

The selection. Every girl needs a pink
statement necklace, right?

Having a two-year-old shopaholic does not make me feel good about the health of my credit card in future years!

The Terrible Twos

The only thing I dislike about my daughter being two is everyone telling me how terrible it is.

"The terrible twos," people will say as they nod knowingly, when Abbey voices her opinion about something. "Kids are just awful from two to four years," another said when she threw a tantrum.

My first problem with this is that it implies Abbey - and every other two-year-old - is a horrible person for an entire year (or three, according to some as mentioned above) of her life. That's a pretty broad statement, and anyone who spends any length of time with her would know that the bad moments are pretty few and far between. (And by the way, having an opinion is not a bad thing - even for a two-year-old.)

The other problem is that the label seems to give an excuse for some behaviour that I'd rather not encourage. I make no secret of the fact that I expect a lot from my daughter in many ways, and I don't make any excuses. If she's having a not-so-great moment, it's just that - it's not because she's two, it isn't because she doesn't know any better. It's just a bad moment.

I try to look at it is as an opportunity. For example, Abbey comes home from her two days of childcare each week with some very interesting learnings. At first, I would sigh and wonder if I should just keep her home to avoid the extra discipline required on the other days. (I know it would all happen eventually anyway, but this would be a melodramatic procrastination technique!) Then I realised that if she doesn't see others behaving badly, she won't learn what not to do. Now, I view it as an opportunity to teach her right from wrong.

Nevertheless, none of this has anything to do with the fact she is two. I've seen kids of all ages - and adults - get upset, throw tantrums, push the limits and assert their independence, and no one says, 'Oh yes, the frightful fives' or 'the sucky sevens' or 'the annoying adult years'. But if a two-year-old does it? It's the old terrible twos line.

I've started responding with one word to all those labellers - no. I hope by doing this, Abbey notices that I won't take excuses and I won't have others cast judgement over her.

Abbey is now two years and eight months. These last months have been some of the most wonderful in our mother-daughter relationship. She is a delight - independent and feisty, hilarious with a very wicked sense of humour, daring and brave, energetic and willing to try anything.

But terrible? Most definitely not.

My shopping problems - solved!

Being a blogger really sucks sometimes.

Like when an email arrived in my inbox the other day from Westfield, asking if they could please buy me a new dress so I could blog about their online service.

I said no, I don't need any new clothes, and please stop bothering me with such things.

Joking.

Of course I said yes!

We all know I struggle with shopping at times, but I'm generally pretty good at shopping online. In the comfort of my lounge room, with plenty of time to browse, I can see what will suit me, shop around for different looks and price comparisons, find accessories to match and generally enjoy the experience.

I find that, if I know the brand and the online store, I can shop online really well size-wise, too. (But it's always worth measuring yourself to check against the size charts, just to be sure.)

But when it came to choosing a dress from Westfield online, I decided to go for something different. A different brand – a designer label, on sale! – and a different style. I’ve always wanted a shirt-style dress, but they usually come in heavy materials that make me look like the side of a house. This one, however, is in a jersey material, so it’s lighter, more fitted and doesn’t need ironing (lucky, considering I never, ever, ever iron).

(Disclosure: I kind of cheated here. I’d seen that Nikki from Styling You had bought this dress and I liked the style – but knew the olive green colour would look bad on me. When I looked it up online after receiving this email, I saw it came in red, too. LOVE.)

Anyway, here’s the dress and the different ways I’ll be wearing it:

Head to Westfield online to find heaps of good brands, and shop from the comfort of your lounge room. I found their service to be great and delivery fast. Enjoy!

Help me win a New Ford Territory for a Year and $5,000

I've been driven to Distraction (I visit there a lot, although I can't quite remember the way),
to Insanity,
to tears,
blown around by the driving wind,
been on crazy four-wheel-drive trips,
and I drove sheep as a kid. True story.

I've driven a hard bargain,
driven good cars and crappy cars,
eaten plenty from lamington and chocolate drives,
stored my life on a hard drive,
and I've even been driven up walls (and driven plenty of people up walls myself).

But the drive that's had the biggest impact on my life is my own inner drive.

Dream big, aim for the stars, work hard, achieve great things, make something of your life, have it all - they're the catchphrases of my life. They're the words I hear in my mind as I wake up, as I do my day-to-day tasks, as I carve out time to do my great things, and as I drift off to sleep.

I've always been driven. Success is the ultimate aim of my life... but it's how I define that concept that's changed.

Where success once meant money, it now means a big smile on my daughter's face and my husband's hand reaching out to hold mine. Where once it was somewhere distant in the future, now I grasp it every day. Back then a quiet day was a waste of time, and now it's an opportunity to think, refresh and be inspired.

And while daydreaming (of success, or of anything else) used to be something I was told off for - by my teachers and my bosses - now being driven to Distraction is part of my job description.

This post is part of the Kidspot Top 50 Bloggers challenge. I'd love it if you could take a moment to vote for me here. Thank you!

I Want It All: the mantra of a generation

I am one of those people who always wanted it all.

Ask me as a child what I wanted from life, and I would have said 'everything'. Ask me as a teenager and I would have been a little more specific: 'career, travel and settle down later on'. Ask me in my early twenties and I would have laid it all out: 'career, money, travel, house, marriage, children'.

My mantra was I Want It All.

Our grandparents didn't have any option - the men worked and were happy to have a stable job, and the women stayed home and raised the kids. Our parents didn't just change those rules, they burnt the rule book and threw a party to celebrate.

Our parents taught us to want more, to expect more. They told us we could have everything, and they showed us how possible it was.

I have a problem with this mantra though. In every aspect of life, we're taught something entirely different. Look in a toy store and you're told you can choose one thing - you can't have everything. Get a job and you know you can't be the worker AND the boss AND the best friend to all AND work in all departments - you need to choose which field you work in. Play a game and you know you can't be the dealer AND the banker AND a player AND all the other roles.

Then we come to life in general. In a small game, we can't be everything - we all know that. In the mini-life that is an office or a business we know that. But in the biggest game of all - life - we're taught to want it all, to be it all.

It makes no sense. It's impossible, yet we exhaust ourselves trying.

What I want to teach my daughter is this:

♥ Set your sights on some things, do them, and do them well.
♥ Aim high in those things you choose to do.
♥ Work hard to achieve them.
♥ Sometimes it won't work out, and that's okay; it was worth a shot.
♥ Learn from that and set your sights on something else.

♥ And, most important of all, you don't have to be everything to be a success in life.

[Image credit]

Bloggers' brunch wrap-up

I was fortunate enough to be invited to a bloggers' brunch here in Melbourne, which was held today.

In 2011, blogging seems to have become a real social activity - I've been to four meet-ups and events this year and it's only May (compared with none last year).

There are a couple of interesting things I've noticed at these events. Firstly, that bloggers are such intelligent, talented people, and it's wonderful to have an outlet for these creative, clever minds that past generations never had. Speaking to some other mum bloggers shows that parents at home with their kids so often need something else, something for them, and many of them are like me - enjoying something that can be done from home, in hours that suit us.

Secondly, that brands are watching and listening to bloggers. Three out of these four events have been sponsored, and two (today's and the Aussie Bloggers Conference) have had some major companies in attendance.

It's a combination made in marketing heaven. And today, the two met beautifully.

Six talented women spoke, telling their stories as bloggers and businesswomen. Two in particular stood out for me - Nicole from Planning With Kids (who everyone knows I love), and Alli from Motivating Mums, who took the initiative to ask to be considered as a speaker for the event. The enthusiasm, determination and drive all six of these speakers have for their projects was very inspiring.

And, when several businesses then displayed their products for us to look at, look we did. I realised that being there was a bit of a gamble for them and they were obviously willing to see what sort of relationship they could strike with bloggers. What I found was a number of gorgeous products, a couple of which I'll share with you over the coming days. (I didn't take products or samples from all of them, as I don't want to bombard you with ads! I'll just share the things that really grabbed my attention.)

Let's just say that right now, I'm feeling very inspired and fortunate to be a blogger... and Abbey will be in complete agreement with the latter sentiment when she sees the pressies I have for her!

Thanks to Room To Grow TV for a lovely morning!

THIS is Mother's Day

So, although we don't do Mother's Day and Father's Day in this house, Abbey brought this home from childcare:

THIS is what Mother's Day is all about. Sparkly wooden spoons that spread glitter all through the car, over our clothes and the entire house, together with handmade cards with painted hand prints all over them.

Cute!

Keep your fancy presents and pretty store-bought cards. If Mother's Day is going to exist for me, this is how I want it.

PS - here's an even better idea for a Mother's Day gift, to help others far less fortunate.

Bake: Sponge Cake

I love a good sponge cake. With all that jam and cream, it's like a lighter version of scones. (Yes, that's right, I love baking old-fashioned sweets!)

I tried making sponge cakes for a while before I got them right. I was following recipes by big-name cooks, but they all failed so much that I feared if I dropped one of the cakes on the floor it would leave a big hole in the timber.

Turns out that, just like contestants on national cooking shows don't always know how to cook the old-fashioned things, famous cooks don't always get a recipe perfect either.

The secret ingredient to a sponge cake is cornflour. Without that, mine are always hard as a rock. But this one, which I just grabbed from a quick internet search and have made perfectly without fail ever since, is lovely.

Sponge Cake

1/3 cup cornflour
1/3 cup plain flour
1/3 cup self-raising flour
¼ teaspoon salt
4 x 60g eggs, at room temperature
2/3 cup caster sugar

• Preheat oven to 180°C.
• Grease 2 x deep, 20cm round cake tins and line bases with baking paper.
• Using an electric mixer, beat eggs and sugar in a large bowl on medium-high speed for 6 minutes, or until mixture is thick, pale and tripled in volume.
• Sift flours and salt together three times to aerate.
• Gradually sift flour mixture over egg mixture while simultaneously folding in with a large metal spoon until just combined.
• Divide mixture between prepared tins. To level batter, gently spin tins on kitchen counter.
• Bake for 20 minutes, or until cakes have shrunk away from the sides slightly and spring back when gently touched.
• Turn out on to baking paper-lined wire racks. Carefully peel away baking paper, then leave to cool.
• Spread jam (preferably homemade!) and whipped cream on the bottom of one cake, place the other on top - and serve!

Enjoy!

When would you...

We used to laugh and joke - 'Wonder what our kids will look like!' - because Steve and I both have brown hair and brown eyes.

We never expected this blonde haired, ever changing eye coloured girl.

Then again, we've learnt that she's full of surprises. Expect the unexpected.

Today I want to ask you a question: When would you take your daughter for her first haircut? Because that mop of hair is seriously long (halfway down her back when it's wet), yet I keep thinking, 'Just a little longer, just a little bit more'.

I think I'm just dreading the event itself. There are protests whenever I brush it, so how big a meltdown would a haircut cause?!

What age did your child have his/her first haircut?

Review: 100 Stories for Queensland

The brief was clear: short stories wanted for a charity anthology to support the Queensland flood victims. All stories must be of an uplifting or upbeat nature.

It's incredible seeing the online writing community join together to achieve something wonderful, like 100 Stories for Queensland. Hundreds of talented writers submitted stories, and 100 of those were selected to be part of this anthology - and it's an honour for me to be amongst the latter number.

Upon having an advance peek of the book, I was moved to tears by the introduction written so beautifully by Kate Eltham, CEO of the Queensland Writers' Centre. Eltham speaks of the day she and so many others watched the Brisbane River struggle against the onslaught of rain, and she tells us what it was like for a Queenslander to be part of the ensuing days and weeks.

Her short piece is an inspiring introduction to the uplifting fiction following.

Of course, I then flicked straight to my story - what writer isn't excited to see their name and work in print?! - before heading back to the beginning to read through the other 99 pieces.

And what a collection it is.

Headlined by authors Anita Heiss and Janet Glover, each work of fiction gives the reader a feeling of positivity. As a collective, they make up a few hundred pages of strong messages - there is hope, there is happiness, and the human spirit is an amazing thing.

Readers are taken from Australia to interspace, from past to present to future, in a number of genre, and an eclectic collection of writing styles and storytelling techniques. Entertaining, uplifting, funny or happy - each of these stories tells of ultimate triumph and hope.

Kate Eltham sums it up: "One hundred beautiful stories. Our stories. When so much was lost or destroyed, this was created. That’s something that can never recede or wash away."

You can buy the book here - as an ebook (available immediately), or as a paperback from Friday 6th May. All proceeds are donated to the Queensland Premier's Flood Appeal.

Time for a growth spurt

I'm going to grow This Tall!

For a planner like me, one of the most annoying things that can happen during the day is to be thrown off-course.

Like having a toddler decide that bedtime is right this second, and no it cannot wait while you cook dinner, My Mummy (her latest phrase, which makes me sound like some weird deity or something).

The last two nights, Abbey has had major evening meltdowns and been in bed between 5 and 5.30pm. Steve and I have worried over whether she'd wake during the night, starving and ready to start her day at 3am... and then shrugged and enjoyed a couple of quiet evenings together.

Our concerns proved wrong, as she's slept 14 hours each of those nights, waking at her usual morning time. Perfect - except for my regret of not taking to bed super early myself and sharing an amount of sleep that is made up of double digits. Unfortunately, my inner control freak took over and I made the most of the opportunity to work instead.

Tonight I learnt my lesson (not the sleep lesson, though), and had dinner prepared and ready to serve by 4.30pm. Yes, you read that correctly. And I channelled my inner European Mama, grinning as I watched her gobble it all up and offering her seconds and thirds (which she willingly ate). I do love that feeling of putting a full-bellied child to bed.

All that sleep, combined with all that food (this was also a day that saw her eat a punnet of strawberries, two eggs and two pieces of toast for lunch) leads me to believe we may have a little girl about to hit a growth spurt.

Either that or she's inherited my appetite.

100 Stories for Queensland - where to buy your copy

You may have heard me talking about the upcoming release of the short story anthology, 100 Stories for Queensland. And you might have noticed the little picture of the book on the right hand side of this here blog?

I'm talking about it and promoting it for two reasons: firstly, because it's a wonderful concept (in the tradition of 100 Stories for Haiti and 50 Stories for Pakistan) with proceeds going to the Premier's Flood Appeal, and secondly... because a short story of mine is in it!

This is my first fiction piece to be published, so I'm very excited about its release!

Best of all - 100 Stories for Queensland is released this week... here are the details of when and how you can get yourself a copy and support the flood victims:

Ebook - available on the 100 Stories website for $4.99.

Paperback - available at these places.

Grab yourself a copy, support the flood appeal, have a read through this amazing collection of inspiring stories... and let me know what you think!

- Read my review of 100 Stories for Queensland -

When a happy ending is more important than the story

I've resisted posting on this subject. I mean, how honest and upfront do I really need to be on my blog? How much should I share? There are some parts of my life I should keep to myself - right? But then, sometimes, there are things that take up so much of your mind-space that to not write them, to not get them out there, distracts you from saying anything else. So, here it is.

It took us two years to fall pregnant with Abbey. Two years not knowing if it would ever happen, two years of doctors and medication, two years of keeping this secret to ourselves, two years of facing THAT question ('When are you going to have a baby?'), two years of laughing it off. My standard responses were, 'I'm only young, there's plenty of time!', 'Oh, one day, there's no rush!', 'We're having too much fun to be tied down with a baby!', 'I'm too busy for that'. Two years of hearing those lies come out of my mouth.

And now, here we are, trying for baby number two.

There are a couple of big differences this time around. I KNOW I can have children now, I know I have my beautiful girl and I can live without another if need be, I know there is a go-to medication that is very likely to work again. And I know that keeping it a secret from everyone doesn't make it easier.

I also know that being honest about it - when the question, 'Are you going to have another?' is asked, I tell people we're trying - doesn't stop the stupid comments exiting my mouth. 'A big age gap doesn't bother me!', 'There's no rush!', 'I'm still young!', 'My hands are full with a toddler!' and so on.

The truth is, I haven't taken contraception for over a year and a half. The truth is, my body is not as broken as it once was - but it still doesn't work. And I've discovered that, even though there are some major differences this second time around, the emotions are exactly the same.

I have myself to blame in some ways. I decided early on that I didn't want to take that medication again - it made me feel nauseous every day, it's strong medication - so I've been seeking other options. I've gone down the path of trying to do it all naturally.

And then, at the sight of yet another negative pregnancy test, something clicked.

I have this theory with childbirth - sure, it's great if you can do it naturally but at the end of it all you just want a healthy baby and a healthy mum. Things can happen unexpectedly, you have no idea how it will be, and you make the best decisions you can at that point in time. The happy ending is what matters, not the story.

And so it is the same with trying to conceive. Have I ever regretted taking medication to fall pregnant with Abbey? No, not even for a millionth of a second. The minute I saw that positive pregnancy test, the moment she came into our lives, any concern over whether it was the right thing disappeared forever.

Tomorrow, I'm heading off to get myself a referral.

It's time to finish this story with a happy ending.

(Disclaimer: I know how lucky I am in so many ways - to have my little girl, to know that I have options, to not have suffered loss. There are so many who have gone through more in their efforts to be parents. But, trying to conceive is a tough, emotional, heart-wrenching road - and this is my story. Take two.)