The easiest, tastiest banana cake.

In this economic crisis, we need to keep our eye out for a bargain. On our day out to Bentleigh I found a bag of bananas for a dollar. Now that's budgeting! I decided to make banana cake out of it. It was the easiest and tastiest treat I have made for awhile. Try it, you won't be disappointed.



1/2 cup butter
2 eggs
3 small bananas
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon bi carb soda
50ml milk
1/2 cup caster sugar
1 and 1/2 cups of self raising flour

Simply cream butter sugar and vanilla together. Add eggs separately beating well. Add mashed up bananas. In separate bowl dissolve bi carb soda in milk. Add milk mix and flour alternatively. Line a large bread tin with baking paper and pour in mix. Bake for 35 mins at 180 degrees. Yum!

What's on my lap.

Today Annie and I ventured out for the morning. We headed down to Centre Rd Bentleigh to post some things, do some food shopping, drink coffee, and of course, visit Amitie fabric store! Annie remained very well behaved for the whole trip, which was quiet a feat, given that she didnt sleep a wink. We rifled through fabrics trying to get some really nice matches for the stash I bought the other day (see below). Will share those with you tomorrow when I take some photos.

Right now on my lap is this little project:



After a quick lesson from my good friend, I decided to decorate part of the surprise project for my sister with a little quilting stitches. It's shaping up to be very special indeed. The needles used are Jeana Kimball's Foxglove Cottage Embroidery/Redwork Size 9. The girls at Amitie insisted they were the best, with a little bend in them for ease of sewing. I also bought some perle 8 in a cream colour. Bugger to thread, but delightful none-the-less.

A day out.

Today we went to visit some friends of ours. They also have a baby girl just a little older than Annie. It was a lovely day of mum advice, quiche and smiling bubs. *sigh*

On the way there, we stopped off at Carmel's discount fabric warehouse (thanks Leslie) I got this set of fat quarters for $4.50 people!! That's like underground basement bargains. So happy with this loot which will inspire the next two projects I am working on.



For now though I am still busily finishing a project for my sister who is pregnant. I can't give too much away here in case she drops by for a read, but I will show you just a little bit o' fabric.



Oh, and here's Maggie May Brocklesby. She has been so left out lately. We hardly ever get down on the floor to kiss her anymore and have even stopped letting her jump up on our laps. We are such awful dog owners. Here she is focusing on her favourite thing: stuff you can throw.

Dad.

Here's a wee introduction to my Dad. He, also, is very funny when he wants to be. Like last night. We got together for a lovely Easter dinner. The entire family was there. My sister put the night on, and during her speech (our family ALWAYS has a speech at dinner parties) she got very emotional and sentimental. We all listened quietly. Our dessert (yummy ice cream topped with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, ice magic and nuts) sat slowly melting as my sister took a good few minutes to talk candidly about a recent struggle.

Sister: Anyway, I guess I just wanted to say thank you to every one of you for your support.

The room fell silent with the weight of emotion. There was not a dry eye in the house. It was this exact moment that Dad thought it important to speak.

Dad: Well...all I can say is that I'm pissed off.

We looked at each other in confusion, trying to work out just what about this lovely speech he was finding fault in. Part of me was afraid to ask, but the silence was deafening so I thought I better.

Me: Why Dad?

He hung he head over his dessert, as if something important was stuck at the top of his throat and he was finding it hard to get the words out.

Dad: No one gave me a feckin' spoon for my dessert.

Goodbye beach house, hello OUR house!

This Thursday is the settlement date on the sale of our beach house. Oh, how I will miss thee. Your native garden, open living and fantastic view. We won't mention the steep climb to the front door or the fact that you're just not kid friendly. We will only ever remember these final moments before we said goodbye...

*our little family*



*Annie's first friend Miss Mae Ann Keating*



*Annie has a bath in the kitchen sink*



Now we are starting the process of looking for our first home together. *smiles* wow. we really are so very lucky!

Guilty as charged.

Dearest Miss Annie,

Wow. Mumma is tired. It's not all your fault though, so let's be clear from the outset. You are growing so very rapidly - it never ceases to amaze me. Your smiles come one after the other these days. Usually just because we smile at you, but when you're tired a little 'insey winsey spider' seems like the funniest song since 'achy breaky heart'. These smiles are a delight to witness. I crave them. Like a drug. I want more, more, more. They tell me you know who we are. That the last 10 weeks of feeding and burping and rocking and singing have actually mattered to your little personality. That you acknowledge we are there. That we are your parents. And that you love us.

My lack of energy probably comes from the fact that over the last week I have had a few tough days on my own. Self inflicted I have to confess. I wanted to spend a week at our beach house before the sale goes through and so I took you down there with me while Dada worked. You had some really good days and some really bad days. On the bad days I had no one to hand you to so that I could refocus. I had no one to bring you to me in bed at night or change your nappy when you leaked all over yourself. (might have to try new Aldi nappies to see if any better). I was up at night a lot. And for a few hours. You would eat and then smile at me. I loved it, but the night owl thing was making me weary.

We are back in the city now. Back home. You are currently tucked up tightly in your bassinet, sleeping soundly. The thunder and rain today woke you momentarily and after a little grizzling and chatting away to yourself, you have dropped off again. This gives me to to recuperate. To rest and prepare for the afternoon when ABBA will be sung, tears will be had and many of those wide, luscious grins will delight my heart.

I guess what I am trying to say is that sometimes I find this mum thing hard. I wasn't prepared for that. I wasn't prepared for how I would be as a mum. I also find myself gaining more and more respect for mothers out there. (Especially single mums. Hail to you all! I am not worthy! You are doing a fantastic job, and all on your own too.) I can't compare to that. I have the patience and love of Dada to help me bring up you, my little girl.

You have really grown, sweet Annie. It scares me because I want these treasured moments to last. It would be nice to have you still for months on end to really LOVE every moment. I beat myself up with guilt for not cherishing every, single, waking moment. Like when you scream blue murder as I try to feed you and no matter how tempting I make the breast you arch your back and refuse it anyway. But I guess that's just me being human....and perhaps a little sleep deprived. I've been told that the guilt just stays with your forever. Am I doing the right thing? Have you had enough to eat? Should we have gone to Lucinda Williams last night at Hamer Hall when you were so very tired and needed sleep, sleep, sleep? The guilt just lives in me now. I was given a bag of it at the hospital to take home with me. All mums get one. We're very lucky that way. We can beat ourselves up over every little move we make on your behalf until you're big enough to make your own. I hope I make you proud. I hope you're not picking at the thread on a couch telling your psychiatrist that I have made you unstable. I hope when you grow up, you love me as much as I ardently love you.

You are my sweetness,
Love Mumma
xx