quakes, limpets and princesses

Well I've been aware for a while that I needed a proverbial kick up the bum to start my blog again...and what do you know!? My first earthquake. Something to write home about! Sadly I couldn't get in a clever comment like "did the earth move for you, darling?" since I completely missed the first one (tending to a crying Josh in his cot) and when the next and the next ones came Ben and I were sitting on the couch watching tv. The pictures on the wall rattled a bit and we shook a bit, but nothing worse than a bit of turbulence in a plane. That's exactly what it felt like. Like being on a plane when you descend/ascend through the clouds. Of course I'm only talking about a minor quake (3.4 and 3.3 on the Richter scale) and have no aspirations to report back from a major one.
I was quite excited that my mom was here to experience it with me, but she's already experienced a big one in SA in '69 so this wasn't exactly gripping stuff for her! I'm thankful for the house (and all buildings here in NZ) that are built to withstand the quakes. I've always loved the majestic latent energy of the earth - when we get little glimpses of it - thunderstorms, avalanches, rough seas... and now, earthquakes.

On the home front, Joshka is my biggest fan. He totally loves me and I am his favourite. It's nice to be so popular, but it can be tricky getting things done. He's particularly determined to be helping me with whatever task I am busy with and will dutifully, determindly and quietly fetch a stool to step up on, so he can see and participate. He is particularly fond of doing that when I'm in the bathroom, on the toilet...he will place the stool in front of me and climb up to stand on my knees. If I DARE close the door beforehand, all hell breaks loose and the doorbashing begins (with stool). Similarly, should I devote too much attention to Mia, he becomes somewhat distraught and tries to climb up my legs thereby pushing Mia away. Luckily I have two arms and two legs to hold two squirming children competing for my attention, but mostly I have to just disentangle myself and walk away.

Mia is still (s-i-g-h) obsessed with pink. And princesses. And ballerinas. And getting marrried. Gone are the days of her being 'Piglet' or 'Pooh' or 'Noddy'...now she is Maid Marion who wants to marry Robin Hood, Cinderella, or some other princess who wants to get MARRIED. One day she wouldn't walk to kindegarten because the prince (Joshka) and her weren't married...so I made them hold hands and asked Josh if he would take Mia's hand in marriage. He dutifully nodded (which is almost like a bow) and then I asked Mia if she would take his hand, to which she replied 'Yes' and I said, " I now pronounce you man and wife...can we go to school now?" So off we went. I then made the mistake of hoisting prince Joshka onto the red horse (pram) and galloping to school. Princess Mia was most unhappy and wailed all the way down the road until I made a compromise and told her she could get a ride on the horse and the prince could walk, once we got to the corner... I almost wish I hadn't done that because now her favourite game with my mom is to get married. My mom is now the prince and Mia is a serial marrier. About 3 times a day. This morning she wouldn't get dressed in her lovely stripey tights and new pants because she didn't want to be an UGLY princess! She kicked and screamed and performed. Ben and I both tried, Hard. In the end, she went to school in jeans and a pink T-shirt with pink fleece. She looks good in pink, but is severely obsessed! This morning she told me "I wish, with all my life, I could have a jacket with Cinderella on it,...like Susanyah's at school..." Grief. She doesn't feel pretty unless she has a skirt or a dress on - preferably both. Ho hum. It's weird for me because not only did I never play with dolls, I also never aspired to be a 'bride' - I never planned a wedding, I hated dresses...in fact I didn't even think I would marry. I suspect having parents who were divorced played a role in it, but still, I've never been a girly-girl and it's quite hard to manage one.