Push Bikes + Men = Evil

 Yesterday (Easter Monday) my husband Shane decided we’d go for a lovely family bike ride as the rain had finally let up and the sun was out.

Today I am really regretting it. I feared I’d wake up with sore knees as they were aching as I rode, but no they’ve held up alright. My back is burning and biting, although it’s like that 80% of the time so I doubt much of that is the bikes fault – what is the bike fault however is how painful I’m finding it to sit down.

Because of the shape of the frame Riley’s child capsule doesn’t fit on Shane’s ridiculously-expensive-fancy-pants push bike. The capsule however fits on my fitted-with-a-wide-padded-seat push bike. I won’t ride with Riley attached to the bike. I’m too uncoordinated and the entire time I’m freaking out that I’m going crash and hurt him. So Shane rode my bike. I’ve tried to ride Shane’s, but the frame is too long and too tall. So I went and nicked my dad’s pushy, his is nice and short, just like him.

We took off and shortly we had to stop so I could raise the seat as my legs were all squashed up. I then continued with on the bike with it in too high a gear and near killed myself going up a SMALL hill, more my lack of fitness to blame than the gearing through. I pumped my fat little legs as hard and fast as I could. The last time I’d ridden from home to Fassifern I was about twenty kilos lighter and going to the gym three times a week. Oops. I had to stop when it felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I pulled up and tried to hop off the bike. My legs were jelly. There was a ball of pain in my chest. My vision started to dull and spot with the light coming at me in intense waves – did I mention I hadn’t eaten breakfast, dumb ass I am. So I sat down for a while, had some water and decided I needed to take it a bit easier if I was going to make it to Fassifern and back.

I survived, obviously as I’m here having a whinge. I didn’t get any of those happy energy buzzing hormones you’re supposed to get after excising. 😦 No I spent the rest of the day trying to stay awake, lying on the couch watching movies while Riley destroyed the lounge room with crayons.

Today it hurts to sit. Damn male bike seats. Damn push bikes altogether. My butt barely touched the seat on the return trip as I was standing on the pedals so I could straighten my knees. Bikes are evil.

My son enjoyed the trip. Each time Shane would stop to let me catch up, Riley would be calling out “More, More, More”. Men are evil :-P.

Riding Riley  20150406_084918

Ready Riley (Edited & Original): Riley inspecting the bikes while we get ready to go for a ride.


Crying Babies

“Why is it that I am always the only one who hears our son crying in the night?” I ask for the millionth time.

I wake even when my son makes the slightest carry on, but my husband sleeps soundly on. Well he sleeps soundly on unless it’s the second time my son’s woken up during the night and I elbow my husband in the ribs until he wakes up, then inform him it’s his turn to check on the baby (I say baby even though he’s eighteen months old now and I’m not sure if he’s technically still a baby). To my husband’s credit, if I wake him and tell him to go check on our son, he normally does it with minimal grumbling.

It used to be that my son would wake up and just want a hug or bottle then be happy to go back to sleep, but in the last 6 months or so it’s been more like he’s having nightmares. You go in to check on him and he’s still asleep. It is rather disturbing seeing my baby boy tossing and turning, screaming with tears rolling out of closed eyes. Thankfully just picking him up or patting his back or tummy does the trick and he goes back in a calm sleep.

I remember reading somewhere that it’s hardwired into a woman’s brain to register those high pitched distressed tones of one’s offspring. But dang it, I tell you I’d like a night where I sleep through and my husband wakes up.

^ Riley awake and happy In his cot ^


^ Shane, Riley and I ^

I call mine Lancy

Do you have a name for your car? I call mine Lancy. Lancy is the perfect mummies car, she has a nice compact exterior for easy parking, but she’s roomy inside with a lovely large wagon back end, plenty of room for baby, pram, food shopping etc. I’ve owned Lancy, a Mitsubishi Lancer Wagon for over a year now and it was only the other day when I was driving into Newcastle that I decided she needed her own name. I was willing her to overtake a truck up a hill – my inner monologue was something along the lines of: “Come on get up the hill, come on Betsy you can do it, hmm I can’t call her Betsy, umm Lancer, Lance, no not lance it’s a she, Lancy? Yeah that’ll do, Come on Lancy you can do it”. She totally over took the truck, redlining it. All my Cars have had names, hence why I thought Lancy deserved her own.Lancy Love

My first car was a little Ford Laser hatchback which my father gave me when I got my licence. My friends and I named Her Noah because she was filled with all sorts of stuffed animals, in my head Noah was female just super cool with a male name. Noah used to spend her time: going on late night drives to Gosford, playing music too loud, speeding around corners too fast, rubbing her belly on dirt roads and fire trails and playing chicken with guard rails up at Mt Sugarloaf. Noah only had a little engine, but before I got her she was in good nick, she had a light little body and was quite nimble. I think about Noah often and hope she’s loved wherever she is now.

I sold Noah to buy a Suzuki Vitara 4WD wagon, something a bit more capable on the dirt roads of the Watagan Mountains that I’d come to love driving. I don’t quite remember naming the Suzuki, but she became Betsy in the end. “Come on Betsy, you can do it, you can do it” Betsy’s little clapped out 1.6 engine didn’t like to move much. Once she got wound up a roundabout or corner would always come along and I’d been screaming “f*#k hold on Betsy, please Betsy” as the rear tyres squealed and bounced sideways. Betsy spent her time: on the beach, playing music too loud, bouncing around the Riffle Range, running over gutters and freaking out people in car parks (she used to pull up and smoke would rise from under her bonnet as she had messy leaks that required extra oil and water to be carried at all times). I sold Betsy when she became unused as I was walking to work and had my husband’s Patrol to drive. Betsy went to a young fella who loved her, but crashed her, she’s a cube now.

Bombodore, the Holden VT Commodore sedan. F*#k me I loved this car. I used to drive it around whenever my parents would go away – because driving a Commodore was way cooler than driving my laser, especially to go lapping in town. My mother owned her for ten years, and then I owned her for another four. She was Me. She was Family. She was Heavy, Noisy, Oily, Big, Boisterous and Beautiful. I have fond memories of riding in her as a child, found memories of freaking out my dad when he took for a driving lesson in her and found memories of the first time I drove her around in a circle in the dirt. The Bombodore spent her time: chewing up tyres and fuel, going around in circles in the dirt, playing music too loud and driving around aimlessly smelling like tobacco. She’s a cube now, I ran her into the ground and she enjoyed every minute of it, as did I. I will always love her.

There was also a point in time where I road my dad’s Honda 110 Postie Bike around, I crashed it twice and then went and bought a Honda 125 Scooter, I then fell pregnant and sold the scooter.

Anyway back to Lancy. Lancy spends her time: taking my son to swimming lessons and doing the food shopping. Umm yeah, Lancy hasn’t met a dirt road and she hasn’t had a sub-woofer and aftermarket speakers fitted – Yet – I’ve promised her there will be a time when she gets to enjoy playing music too loud and driving around aimlessly, once my sons older.

I feel that each car I’ve owned has matched the point I was at in my life. Maybe it’s that our cars are an extension of ourselves – Would you agree?

Lostocking Riley

Riley Walk Retouched

Last weekend Riley went on his first adventure to Lostock.

His second ever camping trip.

Our second ever camping trip since he was born.

Our second time ever forgetting to take pillows.

I was extremely excited to take Riley to Lostock being that most of my fondest childhood memories involve the Lostock Dam Caravan Park and land that surrounds it. I always wanted to live at Lostock and still to this day dream about it. I’ve even published a poem about the place, In this place featured in The World Around Me eBook and In My Shoes & Under My Skin Tree Book both Published in 2014.

Lostock Dam is a fairly small dam on the Paterson River (approximately 93 kilometres north-west of Newcastle NSW Australia) The name of the dam originates from the village of Lostock, located approximately 2 kilometres downstream from the dam wall and then there is the Caravan park on higher ground at the face of the dam spillway, named Lostock Dam Caravan Park.

On Friday night the weather channel said that the forecast for Lostock over the weekend was rain, so we Umm’d and Ahh’d about tenting it in the Cruiser or staying in my grandparents on sight caravan. In the end we went with camping out of the Cruiser down with the Hector boys and their utes.

The weather stayed mostly clear until we finished setting up. On setting up camp we discovered that in our haste to leave and with all the Umming and Ahhing we had forgotten pillows and pots and pans (things we wouldn’t have needed if staying in the van).

In true Lostock style it was fine and then the clouds rolled in. Within a few minutes the heavens opened up a torrent on us, then about half an hour later it was all sunshine again. Riley toughed it out in his rain coat and gum boots, he wasn’t too keen on the coat but was very happy when the rain cleared and he found the puddles left behind. He had a grand old time wandering up and down stomping in all the puddles and loved having the freedom to roam around.

Riley Wet

A wet Riley in his Rain Coat & Gum Boots

Riley Touch

Riley meeting a puddle

Riley Splash Original

Riley stomping one way down the puddle

Riley Strut Original

then stomping the other way back

The simple things 🙂 :-).

Riley Relax

Riley chilled out and relaxing with his bottle

Cover Forest DK

The poem about lostock “In this place” features in this eBook


Also the poem about lostock “In this place” features in this Tree Book

Thursday Recap (2)

Friday 11th was the last day of dress up week at Riley’s Daycare so I sent him dressed up as a Raccoon again 🙂 Soooo Cute!!! And I went and had my eyes tested, nothing eventful happened there.image

Saturday’s are housework day, so when that was done we went to a friend’s house for a BBQ dinner, where Riley had fun playing with another little boy, it was great they ran around and wore each other out.

Sunday is my funday! I pretty much stuffed around all day, drew some stickmen, played with riley, read a book and then watched Masterchef.

It’s just another Manic Monday; Worked, did some stickman drawing and then watched Masterchef.

The dreaded Tuesday, my first day back at TAFE in eight years. I was freaking out, over whelmed, and most of all missing time with my little man.

Wednesday – hump day – half way there day; Worked, did some stickman drawing and then watched Masterchef.

Then we come to today Thursday 17th, Yay! Riley’s swimming lesson day. We used to go to swimming on Tuesdays but as I am back working Tuesdays swimming had to be moved, hence we had a new teacher, new place in the pool and new classmates. Riley really did not cope with so many changes all at once. Normally Riley loves his swimming lessons, but today he was very clingy and even had a cry – poor bubba, but he will get used to the changes.

I’ve got TAFE again tonight – I also need to get used to the changes 😐

Dandelion’s Play

photo 1 (2)Yesterday I introduced Riley to his first Dandelion

When I first handed it to him to meet it

He quickly tried to eat it

Then crushed it in his hand and watched the fluff float away

Whenever I pass by a dandelion

The little girl inside me starts a crying

And I must pluck that dandelion and play

Make a wish and blow the fluff away

I always wish for the same thing

And my heart always sings as I watch the fluff float away

Next time you see a dandelion make sure you stop and greet it

Pick it up and meet it

Make a wish and watch your worries float away

 photo 2 (1)photo 3 (1)

A dandelion can grow just about anywhere they truly are a remarkable plant. Every part of the dandelion is useful: root, leaves and flower. It can be used for food, medicine and dye for colouring.

The dandelion is the only flower that represents the 3 celestial bodies of the sun, moon and stars. The yellow flower resembles the sun, the puff ball resembles the moon and the dispersing seeds resemble the stars.




VIP: Post 65 of 365 Post Prompts for 2014.

Hey, only 300 more to go LOL!

Today’s post asks us who is the most important person in our lives and how would our day-to-day existence be different without them.

Well that’s an easy question for me = My Son.

Riley and Me

Life without my son would be; quieter, cheaper, I’d get to sleep in, I’d have privacy and time to myself. But I wouldn’t have as much love or as many smiles. There would be a hole in my soul, so large I couldn’t control and I think my existence would fade away.

Weekly Photo Challenge: Selfie

When I hear or read the term ‘Selfie’ I immediately think of drunk young women taking photos in pub toilets with their girlfriends or little teenagers dressed like underage prostitutes taking photos of themselves in their bathroom mirrors or even muscle bound men wanting to so off their guns.

So it’s was nice to see some more artististic versions like the photo given as an example for this weeks challenge (Link Bellow).

I hate my photo being taken and my form of a selfie is more like this, me just being silly >>IMG_5724


I’ve had to learn to get over my photophobia though as i’m always taking selfies with my son these days. So here is a Self Portrait I just took, I really couldn’t think of anything very artistic to do with it, I don’t have any interesting reflective surfaces etc around me at the moment.

Selfie Me



Writing Workshop

Today I attended a Newcomers Writing Workshop run by The Hunter Writers Centre. We talked a lot about different forms of writing, finding our own voice, practice exercises and ways to improve our writing.

We did a Memoir Exercise in which we had thirty minutes to write out a memory, then we read them aloud and dissected them as group. I really enjoyed hearing all the different things we’d all dredged up from our memories. The memory I picked out, well I’ve just posted it as its own post – http://sarahalison27.org/2014/02/01/learning-to-drive/

We did a Random Photo Exercise where a bunch of photos were spread out and we had fifteen minutes to write a short piece drawn from one of the photos. It took me awhile to pick a photo. The photo I did go with was of a man wearing a hat in a 1950’s style convertible automobile. I just focused on the guy and his hat >>>>

I slid down and slumped back into the cars seat. I was wearing a black bowler hat pulled down to partly obscure my face, but not so far down that I couldn’t see. I has hiding out in an anonymous looking black sedan with out of town number plates.

I was keeping tabs on a young girl named Audrey for my boss, she was his daughter. She didn’t like her father interfering with her life, so I was tasked with the job to tail her from time to time and keep tabs on who she was hanging out with

He was at her place again, that boy named Bob Brown. That filthy no good rat was harassing her again. I could see him through the window. I drove off. I’d report what I saw to my boss later tonight.

She was a lovely young girl, but she had terrible taste when it came to men. Her last boyfriend had put her in hospital, then my boss and I had put him in an underwater grave.

My boss was a powerful guy, not a fella to be messed with.

<<<< And that’s as far as I got.

I really did enjoy myself today and everyone there seemed to get something out of the workshop. Now I’ve just got to sit down and write out the scribbled notes and advice I took down and look into some of the things we talked about. I think I’ll definitely be joining the Prose group run by the HWC. Today was a fun, entertaining and interesting day :-).