The other Duthies

Quite amusingly I have discovered that if you drop "the" from our blog address you are taken to the blog page of a young Mormon couple in Arizona called Joey and Tiffanye. In addition to their excitement over the impending birth of their first child, there is sadness over the death of their favourite 'prophet' and photos of them and their craaazy friends bowling, all set to music. You might also enjoy the breathtaking photo of them on their wedding day. Sounds interesting doesn't it?

Needles hurt

Poor old Scarlett. Yesterday she was not happy. We had to take Scarlett and Florence for their immunisations, Florence had to have three needles in two legs and Scarlett had to have one in each arm. I had been casually talking about it for a few weeks, explaining that when you reach four, you have to have a couple of quick jabs of special medicine that stop you from getting sick in the future. I told her they would sting, but that then we would quickly rub her arms and go straight out for ice-cream to celebrate being a big brave girl. We even arranged to go with Amelia and her son Edward so they could have them done at the same time. I should add that Scarlett does not like doctors. She doesn't mind them if they are women, but the last time a male dr examined her, I had to physically restrain her while she kicked him in the face. The poor man was only trying to listen to her chest, not crack it. Anyway, yesterday things started well when we met Amelia at the surgery to find Edward had already has his done and was happily smiling over his new band aids, a sticker and a bravery certificate from the nurse. When it was Scarlett's turn, she skipped into the room and jumped straight onto my lap as the nurse requested, with Rob sitting in front of her on another chair. The seating arrangement was, of course, designed so that I could hold her arm tight and Rob could distract her from looking at the needles. As soon as the first needle went in, Scarlett started screaming in a way I have never heard her do before and which was reminscent of noises I last heard when I was in labour with Florence. She leapt from my grip, called the nurse 'Stupid!' and cried and screamed some more. Rob had to grab her and hold her long enough for the nurse to get the second needle in. She then pulled away, blood trailing down her arms, pulled open the door and shouted "That's It! I'm going home!" She then stormed off through the waiting room, to the amazement of waiting patients, out the door and up the street in full tantrum marching mode. It was hilarious and heartbreaking at the same time. Once at the ice-cream shop she was still so angry, that she threw her ice cream on the floor. Her fury continued all the way home when she went into complete and utter meltdown and had to be put in her room, for the safety of all, until she calmed down. After a few minutes, I went in and she literally collapsed in my arms with heaving sobs and lots of tears. I have a feeling we will now have to find a new surgery as I can't imagine us ever being able to get her through the door again. Florence's experience was much better, with a few tears fixed by lots of cuddles. I am so glad that is over.

In other news, our house is on the market, here is the link to the website, if you fancy buying it.

http://www.domain.com.au/Public/PropertyDetails.aspx?adid=2007047066

Florence is 1!

Matron, the smelling salts please. Can a year really have passed since Florence's jet-pack propulsion arrival? Our little darling turned one today and while millions of celtic fools were celebrating this saint's day with pints of green Guinness, we took a more restrained approach , today at least. As today is a Monday we had Flo's party yesterday with her Godparents. There was a lot of champagne, cupcakes and chicken sandwiches and some face painting, too. Before long the kids had got sick of having their faces painted and wanted to try it out on someone else. Being the best, nicest and cleverest mum in Australia, and the one who had drank the good part of a magnum of pop, I volunteered and the girls set to transforming my plain visage into a glorious work of art. Today, Florence awoke to a large pile of pink gifts containing wonderful gifts - books,

clothes, toys and a huge pink tortoise. After breakfast we packed ourselves off to Balmoral for a lovely morning on the beach and from there onto our favourite pool for an afternoon of swimming. Happy Birthday Florence. xx

Scarlett's 4th birthday

Scarlett turned four on Saturday and, as if this wasn't alarming enough, nothing could prepare us for the horror of 8 children hooning about in the manner of drug-crazed lunatics, later in the day. Thank sweet Christ we have a big garden, a sturdy, lockable fence and access to a reliable source of Mace. The day started well, with delight and genuine amazement on the face of our sweet girl as she opened a generous pile of gifts. She went through 3 wardrobe changes that day starting with the ballerina dress we bought her, before moving onto the dress from Maria and finally her birthday suit.

We had planned her party as a good old-fashioned sports day with egg and spoon, sack, and 3-legged races among others. Rob even bought white spray paint and marked out 8 lanes and the Olympic symbol on the lawn. We had a score board set up and water balloons ready for a game of throw and catch. The weather was perfect as were the large batch of tuna sandwiches I had made. Excitement and anticipation were running at fever pitch as we waited for the first guests to arrive at 3pm.

Of course it wasn't long before the first cries of "it's too hard" filled the air, the games (and tuna sandwiches) were abandoned in favour of a massive water balloon fight, rampant nudity on the part of the girls and birthday cake to finish. While I was disapppointed that our well-orchestrated day failed to impress the kids, they had an absolute riot.