Before I begin this Blog, I must inform you, my dear readers, of a serious administration issue. Henceforth Samenz shall be known as either Ninky or Miss Ninky-Nonk, in keeping with the new names bestowed on her by her siblings.  This works for me, coz ‘Samenz’ is too hard to work into a sentence properly.

We took a long-awaited mini-break:  mum, sister, Ninky and I.  My cousin is finally moving home to Vegas after many years abroad and interstate, so we shared one of her last weekends in Melbourne.  Plus, you know, we really like the food and shopping down there.  However, what should have been a simple exercise in public transport (planes, cars, trams) was not. 

I realise that the law says I can take my child to and from the airport in a taxi with no car seat*.  However, I don’t give a rats about the law.  I really like my kids and I’d prefer they didn’t die in the event of an accident, so I won’t let them in any motorised vehicle (except a train or tram) without a car seat.  I brought my own, the clip-into-the-pram-clip-into-the-car-capsule thingy that she has almost grown out of.  The taxi at the Queensland end was fine with it, probably because we booked in advance and warned them about the car seat.

At the Melbourne end, things were more dubious.  Cousin’s car has already gone ahead to Qld with her hubby, so she can’t pick us up from the airport.  The taxi rank marshall was insistent that 3 people and a baby required a station wagon (despite the fact that the Qld taxi was a Prius and we fit just fine).  He insisted that no station wagon would have an anchor bolt for the car seat.  2 further taxi drivers concurred with him and refused to take us.  My blood pressure began to rise.

Out of the blue, a ‘silvertop’ taxi arrived (whatever that is) and the lovely driver informed me that it’s the law that every car must have a child seat anchor bolt, and asked would I like assistance to put the seat in properly?  Driver 500515 of Melbourne, I love you.  Thank you. Thanks also for driving sensibly, being incredibly patient and courteous in chatting with mum in one of her “curious” (nosy) moods, and waiting patiently while we all climbed out of the car at the other end. We should have booked Mr 500515 for the drive home too.  His colleague was fine with the car seat, but more than a little crazy with the speed all the way back to the airport.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Melbourne is not an easy place to get out and about with kids.  I’m glad I took disposable change mats because more than once I had to change Miss Ninky in the pram or on the floor of the disabled toilet because in Melbourne there are seemingly no baby change facilities ANYWHERE.

Meanwhile, public transport was a bit hit & a lot of ‘miss’.  My Strider pram is a luxury for the passenger, super handy to clip the seat from car to pram base, and a dream when you need to cart around 2 kids and shopping.  But it’s an absolute sod for me to push aroundplaces like Melbourne, being slightly wider than doors of most trams, most door frames, and most shop aisles.  Luckily sister is quite ingenious and was always willing to assist me to shove the thing around and help drag it up and down the hotel’s front stairs (they had lifts inside though – go figure).  We ended up doing a lot more walking than planned, just because it was easier than waiting for the ‘disability accessible’ tram. 

Even so, maybe because of the extra walking, the weekend was easy and relaxing, and even better for being ‘screen-free’.  Miss Ninky let us shop ‘til we dropped and loved getting spoiled with all the one-on-one time with grown-ups.  Although next time it won’t be so easy –because the most exciting part of the weekend was not the long-awaited dinners at Nobu and Mo Vida, or the fabulous bargains, or the funky artist-market matching owl beanies we got for the kids.  The most exciting part of the weekend was that Miss Ninky started to crawl! Next time won’t be so easy…..

What are your favourite and most-hated aspects of travel with kids? 

Further info on travel with kids in taxis is below.  Please, take heed of the law but as well as that, don’t let your kid into any vehicle until you are sure that they are safe and secure. 

http://www.tmr.qld.gov.au/~/media/a34d7a95-2ff5-4b5e-b57b-47aeb515d0af/child_restraints_qanda.pdf

*The law recommends that I only do this in an emergency.  Please note different states have different laws.

I have rellies involved in motorsports.  Last weekend we headed up to watch Grandad and Uncle and their friends racing their motorbikes, and as usual we had a ball.  As always, on arrival the kids disappeared into the shed with the boys and didn’t come back inside until we retrieved them the hard way- kicking and screaming. 

I love that they are getting involved in a family activity, but I have my limits.  Amongst the ‘helpful’ tasks he does around the shed, Boog has been taught to use side-cutters to snip things on one of the bikes.  I’m trying not to think about that, because while I’m not entirely sure what a side-cutter is, I’m sure that my 4year old should not have easy access to it! I’m also trying hard not to think what Puddin was doing to get exhaust dust all over her.

Anyway.  The kids ‘helped’ in the shed, cheered from the track-side, strutted around the pits and ate their dinner at the pub with the grown-ups.  They also kept a very curious eye on our friend after he ‘had a stack’ (crash) and ended up in A&E with concussion :(.

Before we left mum & dad’s place, a pair of racing gloves was found but the owner could not be identified.  Boog ended up with them, mainly because they didn’t fit anyone else; then yesterday he asked me if he could speak to Grandma on the phone. 

“Grandma, you need to sew me some leathers.  I’m almost set, I’ve only got my gloves so far”.

Blimey Charlie, he wants to ride a motorbike.  If the kid has a single gene from me, he is going to be hopelessly uncoordinated on 2 wheels (actually, totally uncoordinated, even on 2 feet).  Later that day, he wants to ring Uncle. 

“Uncle, where did you get your motorbike?  The internet?  What’s that?  Oh.  Where did Grandad get his motorbike?  The bike shop.Oh.  Where did your friend get his motorbike?  What’s an auction?  Ok, I think I’ll go with the internet.  Yep.  Ok.  Bye.”

Oh crap, he’s serious!  Luckily Uncle is a wise soul and had told him,“Boog, if you want a motorbike, first you should practice riding your bicycle really fast”.  Boog is not satisfied.  Next he wants to ring Grandad.

“Grandad, where did you get your motorbike?  I’m getting mine from the internet.  And I need a helmet, I don’t have one yet, I’ve only got my gloves so far, but I’m all set to go”.

Thankfully Grandad is also a wise soul and says “All in good time, you just see how you go with your gloves first”.  But this isn’t going to last long.  My boy wants to play with the big boys and he doesn’t want to wait.  AAARGH!  What do I do?  I know Casey Stoner probably got his first bike at the age of 4, and for him it paid off, but I really think this is ridiculous - or is it?  What would you do?

p.s. I wrote this blog a couple of weeks ago and forgot to post it – since then every time we go to the shops my Boog wants to go and buy some leathers, a helmet etc.  He has asked me to show him the internet.   He will not practice riding a bicycle.  This is not going away!

Samenz (5.5 months) fell out of bed this morning.  Not just any old bed either, a super-high antique bed at mum’s place.  Samenz fell onto the hard timber floor, and I feel like a total idiot*.

Well miss Mel, I have been promising you a blog for months now and I finally get time to write it as I sit in the accident and emergency department of a country hospital waiting to see if my gorgeous # 3 has any problems as a result of her ‘serious head injury’**. 

She screamed straight away when it happened.  I know because I must have dozed off mid-morning-chat-session but woke up to the sound of her head hitting the floor, and straight away she brought the house down screaming.  About 4 or 5 minutes later she stopped screaming and ever since has been acting like nothing happened.  I rang 13health anyway and they freaked and wanted to call an ambulance.  Being 5 minutes down the road I jumped in the car and came straight to hospital instead. 

She seems fine.  For some reason, the hospital staff think weighing her is vitally important, as is knowing the exact height of the bed.  Unfortunately I’m so stressed out I couldn’t work it out with a tape measure and half a dozen master builders. 

She seems fine, but we have to sit around for a few hours just in case.  Lucky mum didn’t have any plans and is looking after the other kids, can’t imagine what they would do to an emergency room in 4 hours, but I know it wouldn’t be pretty.

The dirty looks I’m getting from the hospital staff are amazing.  They are alternating between cooing at the baby and glaring at me.  I’m tempted to save them the trouble and tell them I was raised a Catholic, therefore I’ve got 10 kinds of guilt going on already and I don’t need any help to feel terrible about the whole thing.  Strangely, no-one even asks how she fell out of bed in the first place. 

• It wouldn’t be so bad, but this has happened before with missPuddin, who fell out of bed not once but twice***.
• It wouldn't be so bad, but only yesterday I was telling mum I don't trust Samenz in bed anymore and how I stay awake to breastfeed unless Mr CupOTea is in bed too to fence her in.
• It wouldn't be so bad, but I had intended to put her back in the cot anddozed off before I got around to it.

Mum didn’t even say “I told you so”.  She said there probably isn’t a child alive who hasn’t had a head injury somewhere along the way.This makes me feel even worse. 

Coulda, Shoulda, Woulda.Too late now.  This sucks. 

She is fine, but what if she weren’t?  I'm going home today to pull my bed apart and put the mattress on the floor.  It's the only way to be sure that falling out of bed won’t be a problem.  Heck, it’s only for 6 months max.  I’ll live – and better yet - so will she.

What accidents have happened to your kids - how did it make you feel as a parent?

* mypreferred phrase is not at all suitable for a family website

**according to the info sheet the hospital gave me, one of the indicators of a ‘serious head injury’ is when a child “has something stuck in their head”.  Mr CupOTea reckons the Bob the Builderis the definition of “something stuck in their head”, and this is possibly the only viral form of head injury.

*** the doctor we saw the 2^ndtime informed me that her own infant had fallen out of bed 3 times  in the same circumstances.