‘Pointed’ cucumber sandwiches at a recent tea party with some close friends.

This was at a friend’s house. She did everything by hand herself. Except the wee cakes.

Here are some others:

hand-made table decorations

my name is really Andrea, I’ve been fooling you all, all along

aye, it was that good

cucumber, red pepper and olive thingies with cream cheese on rice cake hingers. basically.

I had a great time. There was even scones and clotted cream. I was in British heaven.

Montana = beauty
Clean, serene, charming, peaceful
Outdoorsy heaven

If you’ve e’er wondered
Why I talk smack about ‘Tana
Here’s a good reason:

UK readers: Radio Shack is the same company as Tandy.

1. Sleep. Be well rested for your trip. If you need to, set your target bedtime for an hour earlier than the actual time you want to get to sleep.

2. Think Positive. If you think it’s going to be a bloody nightmare and go pear-shaped, then it will. Setting out with a great attitude will set a preface for your entire journey, and, it’ll rub off on the children too. Experience the day with a child’s sense of wonder. This is their experience too…

3. Slow Down. Arrive at the airport 10 minutes before your target time. Take a moment to describe to the little ones what’s going on, where you are and what to expect. If possible, take an opportunity to visit the airport for a self-hosted mini tour. Also, don’t feel rushed through everything, it’ll only make you flustered and add undue stress.

Also, slow down going through airport security. Feeling like you have to rush through it will only add stress and complicate the situation. Take your time and don’t worry about the people behind you who are in a rush. You can only do one thing at a time, so think it out methodically and have a plan in your head of where everything is and what you need to show. A good rule of thumb is to deal with your own things first and then turn to the children. This goes for removing shoes too.

4. Necessities. If you think you’ll use/wear it, you won’t. Leave it home. Trust me.

5. Carry-on luggage. Rather than humph around a nightmare on wheels, opt for a backpack, it’ll free up your arms and you can organise everything easily too.

6. Flights. Aim to get flights that have the fewest amount of layovers possible. Contrary to what you may think, giving your kids a break from flying by hurtling them through airport security and/or flight changes is time consuming, stressful and can be avoided. It’ll also lengthen the process for them.

7. Spend it. Children under 2 can fly for free on most airlines if they sit on your lap. Consider the length of the flight before taking advantage of this. Holding a baby or small child on your lap for several hours is harder than it sounds. If your flight will last for more than 2-3 hours, I’d recommend you buy a seat for your under 2er. It’s well worth it and they can sleep and rest easy. You can too.

N.B. Check the label on your car seat or the safety instructions and also check with your airline to make sure that yours will meet FAA (or applicable) regulations.

8. Meals and beverages. Make sure your wee one has been reserved a child meal. Be sure to confirm it when you confirm your flights. If they are small enough, airlines and security allow the individual Gerber plastic juice bottles. They also allow fruit cups (e.g. Del Monte), Gerber Graduates food bowls and sippy cups with juice in them. Be prepared to drink from them too. Be sure to pack all of your bairn’s food and drink in a separate plastic ziplock bag and let the staff at security know you have it right off the bat. Plan to take a few more drinks than usual for your kids (in case dehydration sets in) and avoid sugary snacks or anything with caffeine. The last thing you need couped up on a plane is a high pre-schooler. Even if your child is past the age for a sippy cup, use one as a container for snacks. Remember: Ice packs will be confiscated, plan accordingly.

Similarly, make sure you all take a trip to the toilets before take off.

9. Surprises. Pack a new toy and/or book for each child. We brought a small etcha-sketch, A Color Wonder Pack, a thick colouring book with chunky crayons and 3 new books. We also bought 3 new DVDs (two of them we found for $5 each at Target - Muppets in Space and Stuart Little. The other was Curious George.) We also packed a small pair of binoculars for looking out of the windows.

Be sure to let them walk (with supervision, of course) freely around the plane too, don’t feel like they need to be retrained to their seating area.

10. Equipment. You can gate check your stroller. After tagging it at the gate, just leave it on the ramp and the airport staff’ll pick it up. You can ask for a large plastic sack to cover it. Note: Some airports only stock these in the main terminal. We stored our 3 year-old’s booster seat base in the seat of the folded stroller and bungee chorded it on before bagging it. Also note: I spent an extra $25 (all in) to rent a CARES restraint for my almost 4-year-old. It was unnecessary and unused. Save your money (and time and stress).

11. Travel in Comfort. Make sure you all dress comfortably. I dressed my two in open leg sweat pants and long-sleeved t-shirts. I also removed their shoes after we got aboard and were all seated.

12. Packing. It may sound rudimentary, but don’t over pack for you or your kids. Plan outfits that can be interchanged easily. This will also help cut down on the new checked luggage fees. Pack an extra set of clothing in your carry on for your kids. Eating, drinking and turbulence don’t mix. Pack some plastic/poly bags (and disposable scented diaper/nappy bags too. Sassy sells them in packs of 50). You may like to know: The diaper changing station on a plane is directly above the toilet. All those tween (or sloshed adult) years of playing Twister will finally pay off.

13. Ask. If you need help from a flight attendant or airport staff, ask. They are more than willing to help when needed, especially when you have a little one to gush over! One flight attendant crouched and spoon fed my 14-month old his ravioli when she saw the shapes I was getting into trying to feed him from the side. She also offered to hold him as we prepared to get off the plane.

If your baby is 6 months or younger, most airlines have bassinets for your baby to sleep on. It’s also a nice idea to pack your own blanket if possible.

Tip:  It’s also a good idea to ask to be seated after the First Class passengers and before everyone else.  Some staff at the gates didn’t offer it as we boarded, so it’s better to ask than be left struggling to make it up the tiny aisle with small children, a car seat and your carry on luggage (and the other passengers).

Bonus: My two weren’t bothered by their ears at all with all five flights. But you can take pre-packaged fruit snacks or juice cups to alleviate any pressure to the ear drums during take off and landing.

Tip of the Century: If you are at all flying to the UK, don’t exchange your money at the airport. There are plenty of places when you arrive at your destination that will do it commission-free. Travel agencies, the Post Office and Marks & Spencer (aka M&S) are great places to look out for.

I love teaching myself new stuff…or, I should say, I’ve had Photoshop for a while now, but had forgotten a few key tricks that I’d learned back in my graphic design college days…a while ago (OK, I could’ve birthed a teenager since then – shudder). Here’s what I’ve retaught myself so far:

Removing Blemishes and Brightening Teeth

Before:

After:

I even removed the little freckles from his nose. This was just an example and I don’t plan on keeping it like this, but you can see the effect it makes. Of course, I can’t fix the swelling and it’s a little out of focus, but you get the jist. I don’t know how many pics I’ve taken that are spoiled by a baby finger nail scratch to the cheek or some sort of blemish. I can remove spots (zits), freckles, blemishes, scars and even laugh lines. How sweet is that?!

The local company that took our family photo in December charges $75/hour in 15-minute increments to do this kinda stuff. She’ll also swap heads and make a perfect composition if one of your children blink or don’t look at the camera. I’m planning on learning that one again too. She’s not the only one in this windswept tumbleweed town with some mad skills!

I had a hard time coming up with anything this week. There were lots of instances where the sunlight outside was bright, but it wasn’t evident in the photo itself. Here is a photo of Ian when he was around the same age as Cameron is now:

The end of June is my 3rd blogversary (so they say). Here are some things I’ve learned from airing my dirty laundry for all and sundry since 2005:

1. There are many blogging platforms, niches and types: Human interest bloggers, photo bloggers, diary/photo bloggers and inside-ma-heid bloggers, to name a few. I’m the latter.

2. Writing is very cathartic. (Reading others’ is just as cathartic.)

3. It’s easier to write and be read when people you’re not close to are reading along with you.

4. Which brings me to: People you’d rather not read your blog will find it. That’s all I’m saying.

5. Lurkers are friendly. Lurkers come in the blogger and the non-blogger variety. I lurk all over the place. Mainly because I have comment envy. There, I said it. Sod off.

6. a) When you write from the heart and are completely honest, it’s akin to people riffling through your underwear drawer when you’re holding an Open House and you’re not fully fenced, but very worth it. See No. 2

b) Write like no’one else is reading. Even if they’re not.

7. You can be precisely vague and still get a point across.

8. It doesn’t really matter if you conceal names, people still find out about you.

9. If you don’t feel like writing, then you probably should. I learned this one too late. Introspective introvert traits…

10. Your blog design can have a huge impact on your readers. I’d love to change mine…

11. Post often.

12. You don’t need to know HTML, but it helps.

13. It takes a lot of time, dedication and effort. And even when you think you’re done for, there’s always something to blog about. Blogging gimmicks are worth it just for this reason alone: Wordless Wednesday, T13, Haiku Friday, Photo Hunt, Weekly Winners…to name a few.  Post-dating your blog entries is a sweet miracle.

Ian, I really don’t know where to begin. I can hardly believe we celebrated your fourth birthday last week. The surreal feeling of walking through the hospital doors as two and leaving as three seems like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time. Moments after you were born, I stared into your eyes hardly believing you were mine — mine to take care of and nurture forever. You were mine, and you were here.

I wanted to wait a year to establish our marriage before we tried for children, but the best laid plans rarely work that way or follow our desired timetable and our life changed in a swift direction, fast. I never imagined that there were so many couples with fertility issues, and in fact, that I would be one of them.

Each month we waited and quietly hoped that it would be our time and we could be parents, and with each month that passed we never gave up on that hope. We read articles religiously on how with each cycle there was a 20% chance of pregnancy with every couple, and that the vast majority of pregnancies occur after a year of trying. But despite this information, I couldn’t help but sit in the bathroom and cry with every passing month, or stare at obviously pregnant women and wonder what I was doing wrong. Was I miscounting magpies? Did I need some fertility dolls? Or maybe it was just a case of getting on a plane to Asia to visit a shrine for people like us.

I couldn’t understand it, it just didn’t make sense. I didn’t want a BMW or a yacht, I wanted a child, a little one to take care of and nurture. It was a righteous desire and for reasons unknown to me - us - I was being denied something so natural.

We kept our heartache a secret from everyone. It was something we didn’t care to discuss or share with anyone: Family, friends or colleagues. I didn’t want or need to hear the commiserative, “stop trying to try” or the ever popular, “everything happens for a reason” mantra with the emphatic knee pat at no extra charge. It became difficult enough watching other peoples’ fertility run around without a marching band of reproductive enthusiasts to share it with. Then again, with every month that passed, it got increasingly more difficult and moral was fading fast.

I stopped crying after seven cycles.

After a year I sought out a Gynecologist, one that I thought might help, but in hindsight didn’t specialise in any reproductive issues. She advised me to track my BBT (Basal Body Temperature) for three cycles. Each morning as soon as I flicked my eyes open, I had to reach across to my nightstand and take my temperature with as little movement as possible and then chart it. Months later, as I sat in her office waiting for some sort of prognosis, she glanced over my line chart and mumbled with gritted enthusiasm, “well, it appears as if you’re ovulating.” I was no expert, but even I knew that wasn’t true. The lines I had created rarely spiked, if at all. Little did I know my years of bragging to schoolmates that I had no PMT (tension) came with a sorry price tag, one that would come back to haunt me later in life.

Seven months later, we moved from our two-bedroom apartment into our first home and we were no further forward than we had been a year earlier. After we were settled in, Bryan looked through the Yellow Pages, found the section we needed and phoned a clinic hoping they could direct us. They were a OB/GYN clinic, but one of their doctors also specialised in infertility and high risk pregnancies. The receptionist shuttled us to the right doctor and made an appointment for us.

It was mid-September of 2003 when we walked into the doctors’ office that resembled a spacious, beautifully designed lodge more than it did a place to practice medicine. The dimly lit, expansive room was filled with brown leather couches and mission-style chairs, beautiful wooden floors and an open, ceiling-to-floor stone fireplace. I felt at ease instantly.

It was there I met Dave. Not Dr. so-and-so. Just Dave. Of all the doctors I have met in my life, this man tops my list - and not just for the obvious reasons either. He was charismatic, but in a gentle non-assuming way. He smiled, he listened, he asked questions and he sympathised. His unspoken words spoke volumes too. His bedside manner was exceptional and I would have gladly shared all my medical history with this man just so he could make me feel better about everything.

It wasn’t an appointment, it was a therapy session.

He asked me the routine questions: How long is your cycle? How long have you been trying? Have you tracked your BBT? And more. When I mentioned my chart, I told him of my concerns and he said he wanted to try something. Then a question I wasn’t expecting: “Which day of your cycle are you on right now?” “Day 5″, I said proudly. “Perfect. I want to try you on a 5-day regimen and then after that, have intercourse on Day 10, Day 12, Day 14 and 16.” This was already more than anyone else had done for us.

Interesting. No more 11, 13, 15 and 17. It seemed so foreign to me all of a sudden.

There was something about it, a feeling I can’t really describe. I just knew. I wasn’t even technically late the morning I ran downstairs in the dark and took the pregnancy test. A positive. I had to blink and just make sure. I was quiet for the very first time. I just sat for hour-long seconds and stared at the little piece of technology I had just peed on that changed my life.

As I walked quietly back into our bedroom and slipped back under the covers, I leaned over to where my husband lay and whispered, “Bryan, I’m pregnant” : The words I had longed to say in two very long years. We hugged, weeping together, unable to really come to terms with the reality of the situation.

It was a Saturday, the 19th of June and the day before Father’s Day; five o’clock and definitely time for dinner. The nurse handed you to me and smiled. I studied your sweet face, counted your fingers and toes and kissed your tiny forehead. You made me a mother and stole my heart. I will never forget that day.

I have loved watching you grow and learn, and despite how hard some stages have been, I decided a long time ago to stop wishing them away and embrace everything. Thank you for reminding me what it’s like to be four.

Oh, and if your brother ever asks about his middle name, just tell him about Dave.

1 day old

6 months old

1 year

2 years old
He wanted to go outside, but knew he needed socks and shoes. So he put daddy’s on.

2 years 2 months
At a OB appointment with me, my last one with Dave before we moved to MT at 27 weeks gestation.

3 years old

4 years old

This week I couldn’t decide and just pick one, so I’m posting two. OK, technically speaking the second photo isn’t water, but it’s a favourite…

Me & Ian, 4th June 2005
(Ian was almost 1 here)

Me & Ian, Yellowstone June 2005
Look! See, I have a torso! Legs too!

jammy dodger:

A proprietary brand of biscuit, consisting of two round pieces and jam in between. In the dialect this term is borrowed to mean someone considered very lucky:

“Big Dave won a motor in a raffle, the jammy dodger!”

You can see reference to this term in the film Flushed Away.

I’m in a bit of a quandary. (I’ve always wanted to say that, but really, I am). I have been thinking about Ian’s birthday for 7 months now, trying to decide if I should throw him a party for his 4th year in the world. I himmed and hawed wondering if I should wait another year.

A friend of mine threw a party for her then 4-year-old (she’s also in Ian’s preschool class) back in September, and well, you could say I’ve developed a case of stage fright about it. This friend is an amazing party planner and I wish I had half the mad skills she does to pull these things off and make it look effortless. (She recently hosted a grown-up tea party for 8 close friends, it was brilliant and jaw-dropping. Maybe I’ll post pics of it soon.)

I finally talked myself into it two weeks ago. I was doing it. I didn’t know what, but I was doing it anyway.

I’m not the head planner type. I can’t just come up with this stuff in my brain, it doesn’t happen like that for me — ever. I’m a detail-oriented person, give me a section of it and I’ll go to town and do really great with it - give me more than four options for something and I shrivel up and die. (It took me 2.5 months to pick a final photo for our family portrait.)

I’m actually doing really well with it. We have a theme: Tractors, John Deere to be precise. (And no, the fascination with said tractors materialised looooong before we ever stepped foot in Montana, but I’ll forgive you for perhaps thinking otherwise…!

So, here’s the breakdown:

1. Friends are to wear something green, yellow or brown.
2. Food: Homemade sausage rolls, chocolate crispy cakes* (made with Milkyway bars) and Sun Chips.
3. A dirt track cake with self-bought JD tractors and pickup trucks on them.
4. Favour bag: Bubbles, a punch balloon, Green homemade Kool-Aid Playdough, mini dairy milk bars, Reece’s peanut butter cups, rolos and kisses and Lego fruit snacks.

Games: Blaaaaaaaaaah.

Nothing.

I’ve went completely blank and I can’t believe it. We never gave out little party bags in Scotland when I was growing up, so the fact that I go that far is a bloody miracle! Plus, I hate the cheap weird stuff some people give out and wanted to do something a little decent.

Rather than search the ‘Net looking for stuff, I thought I’d put it out there to my friends. Any ideas?

I thought about a British game called Pass the Parcel, but I’m not sure if the kids are too young for it or not. Maybe I’m underestimating them. You wrap a small gift in a box with about 6 layers of paper (have the children all sit in a circle) and play music, stopping randomly. Each time the music stops, the child holding the gift takes off a layer of paper and then the music starts again. The one left holding the naked box gets what’s inside.

Yeah, so that’s about it. Any thoughts would be greatly appreciated.

Oh yeah, and his birthday is this Thursday.

- - - - - -

* Chocolate Krispie cakes are similar to the marshmallow ones you make here, kinda. You melt down chocolate, add a little butter and add a ton of Rice Krispies. Spoon some of the mixture into little (cupcake) cases and top with a marshmallow and pop it in the fridge to cool. I’m using Milkyway bars in mine instead.

Sausage rolls are kinda like Pigs in a Blanket, but better…IMHO…