Arlo has been attending music classes for about six weeks now, and he really enjoys it. There are eight kids in the class and all attend with their mothers.

I thought one mother looked familiar, she’s got a British accent so I though maybe I’d seen a similar face on tv sometime.  But suddenyl it twigged today, and I asked her son’s birthdate.

I was righ – her son is three days younger than mine, and she is indeed one of the women who shared my room in the postnatal ward!  I was in there for 7 days so a few women passed through in that time, but I remember her well because she was sane, unlike most of the others.  So we had a discussion about the loonies we’d shared with (including one woman across from me who’d had her third child, was immediately bored, and always had the social worker visiting and trying to convince her to go on the pill.  Her partner was in gaol because not liong before the birth, they’d done a runner from a service station – with the two kids in the back and heavily pregnant woman in the front – and he’d crashed the car.  Arrested, gaoled, what a mess.  Much drama.  Also, she always watched the tv in the middle of the night, not on mute.)

So, coinkydink!

Arlo’s first day of childcare tomorrow! He is excited, I don’t think he has relaised yet that it means I will be gone all day.  He’ll have Baby Doll to snuggle up to though, and I’ll only just be around the corner working.

We’re watching Boobahs and the woman dressed ina cardy who’s supposed to be Grandma looks more like the zombie girl in the backyard from Shaun of the Dead.

We’ve gone from steaming hot to quite cold here. It’s been raining since Saturday, although we’re having a brief rainless spell now. Today we’ll be out splashing in puddles, I think. Arlo stayed at my sister’s house on Saturday night, and Mark and I spent an hour digging out the drains and gutters by the road to get the water flowing again.

The garden needed the water, although we’d recently had our tank filled so overflow was an issue. Lots of deep, hot baths became a necessity rather than a luxury, much to my delight. I have had a bath every day since Saturday, when usually I get one every couple of months when I think we can spare the water. Deep baths that you top up every 15 minutes; a cup of coffee within reach and a trashy romance in hand.

So we did, in fact, make it to the beach this morning, despite the brief intense rain shower at departure time.  Luckily it was on its way seaward so we could watch it all from shore confident we wouldn't get wet. 

Arlo was so excited when we got there.  It is a matter of great disappointment to both Mark and I that although we live only 15 mins from one of the msot amazing beaches on the east coast, which we are both intimately acquainted with due to spending many (in my case, most) years of our lives living nearby, we rarely visit it any more.  Which is criminal, considering we have a child who loves the outdoors.

As a consequence, the beach is somewhat unfamiliar territory for Arlo.  Especially a big noisy surf beach with lots of crashing waves so you can't hear your own voice.  Following the storms we've had in the last week there were lots of interesting shells washed up, and also plenty of little beach tumbleweeds which Arlo loved to watch rolling into the waves.

He was very wary of the waves: during our initial approach to the water's edge, he clung to my hand and then begged to be carried, so Mark hoisted him onto his shoulders.  After a while Arlo grew more accustomed to the ocean – the waves don't keep coming – and he then begged to be let down.  He and Mark then galloped happily along the beach, dodging giant oyster shells.

Arlo finally became game enough to hold Mark's hand and approach the waves, and then of course he didn't want to stop, and got soaked from the waist down (and here's us with no change of clothes for him).  Despite the rain it was reasonably warm and Arlo tucked into our 'picnic' (coffee, juice and mixed nuts) wearing a shirt and nappy, once we were back at the surf club.

We've resolved to make it part of our weekend routine.  I really must remember to go more often.  Hells, I grew up at the beach.  Until I was 20, all my spare time was spent at the beach, either lying around, swimming, or beachcombing (or getting 2nd degree sunburn, but that's another story), and it's an activity that I really want to become a more frequent part of Arlo's life. 

Every night I say I'm going to have an early one.  Every night I go to bed at around midnight.

Sigh.

Tomorrow morning we are planning a trip to the beach, and for once, for the first time in about 4 years, I actually fell like going for a swim in the ocean.  It's odd, I used to be a total beach bum in my teens, loved nothing more than lazing on the beach and body surfing; then I got prissy about sand and salt and wet hair.  The beach is messy, you know?  But I really want to go swimming in the morning. 

So I'm going to bed now.  Really, I am!

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pd-40, originally uploaded by arlo.dart.

Just dandelion.

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pd-59, originally uploaded by arlo.dart.

Playing with the macro.

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pd-91, originally uploaded by arlo.dart.

Chaos. All the presents were wrapped and then ‘hidden’ so the kids could hunt for them. Then the general unwrapping melee began.

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pd-128, originally uploaded by arlo.dart.

A very tired Arlo checking out his new train and his groovy cow torch – you pull a handle under the tail and the mouth opens up to reveal the bulb.

My mother-in-law doesn't celebrate Christmas, so instead a Present Day is held in November, usually around the time of her wedding anniversary.  Last weekend one sister-in-law flew home from Brisvegas and another SIL drove up from Sydney; we see both of these lovely ladies infrequently so it was extra special.  Which of course we celebrated by playing Guitar Hero.

I also played a little with my new macro extension tubes – they require different methods to those I'm used to, so it's going to be a learning curve.  So far my ratio of good:bad shots is about 1:10, so a bit of work to do yet.

Being sick of putting on weight and becoming more and more unfit, I signed up for the gym at the start of the year.  And tried to go twice a week to do classes or cardio and weights.

Nothing happened.

So a girlfriend and I signed up for sessions with a personal trainer, and I learned what a real workout is – and promptly signed up for the 6 week/18 sessions boot camp.

I've just finished week 5 of the whole shebang, and boy is it hard work.  But I am definitely seeing results, in both my fitness and my weight and measurements.  But best of all – I'm enjoying it.  I can't wait for the next fit camp to start (January) and I'm mourning its upcoming absence.  I am so excited about repeating the fitness test next week – we did it the first session, and will do it the last session to compare results. 

Already I know I can beat a lot of them – the first week I could only do half a full pushup (i.e. on toes).  Today at training I did about 8.  Two weeks ago our personal trainer updated the initial measurements she took, and while my weight hadn't dropped by much (due to the increase in muscle), I had lost a total of 12.5cm/5in off my body, including 5cm off my hips alone.

Also, Arlo loves going to the creche.