When the boy's away....

Confession time: We did something very naughty recently. We went out to dinner while C. was away at school camp!
I blame Husband, who came home saying that he wanted to take his Two Best Girls out to dinner. (Well, at least we are up there...)
And so, we trekked up the hill to Ponsonby and tried a cute little Italian restaurant called Gusto.
The service was friendly and efficient, and they were particularly lovely to Miss 6.
And as we are used to in New Zealand, there was no kids menu (prompting a pout from H.), but the chef was more than happy to prepare a bowl of her favourite, spaghetti bolognaise, just for her.
She pronounced it (and don't tell him): Better Than Daddy's!
High praise indeed.
With just one child (meaning no arguing or fighting) dinner was actually peaceful and relaxing. Almost like date night.
Or perhaps that was the wine...


Husband's pasta. His only criticism was that there was not more of it!











Vegie pizza for me...












You don't get better praise than this. Small child tucking into real food!











For the first time ever, Miss 6 chose to sit next to Dadda instead of me! (Sob - it's all downhill from here)










Mr 8 arrives back at school, unaware of the betrayal that has taken place..











Seriously, he was fine, but thirsty and starving, because apparently they don't feed kids at camp in New Zealand. (Joke: Totally not true! Apparently the meals were even better than mine ...yes, I know, that wouldn't be hard!)










After a few days in the wilds, he was desperate for 'technology'.
And don't worry, he's been for several meals out since then!

Time for firsts

So we waved the Little Dude off on his first school camp this week.

He was awake, dressed and ready to go bright and early, after a weekend spent packing, unpacking, and packing again. There were clothes to name, and lollies (for sharing, after dark) to buy.

I had to smile when H. gave C. a cuddle and said: "I'll miss you my brother", and he gruffly replied: Yes, I know, I'll miss you too."

(This was amazing, because only minutes earlier they'd been fighting with each other about something.)

Surprisingly, there were no tears, though I have felt as if my right arm is missing since C. left.

And so far, I've resisted the urge to phone up and see how he's going!

It's been a time of firsts for C. lately. Last week, he did his first proper speech at school, complete with queue cards. And later in the week, he got the highest mark in his class for an art project.

The kids were asked to create something iconically Kiwi. While other children depicted jandals or tikis, my thoughtful little man created an image of Rangitoto Island, an extinct volcano which dominates much of Auckland's fabulous scenery. And in the foreground, he's made a Pohutakawa flower - known as the Kiwi Christmas tree becomes it always blossoms in December.

He's come a long way since his early struggle with school back in Australia, and I'm pleased to see him enjoying school so much.

I was proud of him I had to give him a big cuddle, which embarrassed him no end.

Oh well - isn't that what Mums are for?

All set - trying to look casual

What?

Hugging goodbye!

Rangitoto Island, by C.

Camping out and Men Kumera. Oh my!

So, the Little Dude has his first school camp next week, and he is super-excited.

His bag has been packed, and he's been sleeping in his new NZ-standard sleeping bag for weeks.

It's not without a little trepiditation that I will wave my first-born off to camp. There's his life-threatening tree nut allergy to worry about - but the teachers are all aware of that, and he'll have his epipen of course.

Then there are the physical activities - the kids get to do really challenging things, like abseiling, target practice (with air rifles) and archery. There are climbing walls, a flying fox, kayaking, and something called 'the scream machine', where they fly around the gym hanging onto the end of a rope. Then there's the Burma Trail, a walking track across wobbly bridges and via swinging logs which they do by night, or blindfolded during the day! Husband and I have visions of him coming home with broken bones and bruises!

On the plus side, C. will enjoy toasting marshmallows over camp fires, late night milo, and singalongs. Best of all, (says C), is the fact that it's not lights-out until 9.30 pm! (Usually it's 7.30 pm at home).

In other news, in my never-ending quest to find interesting-shaped fruit, I have at last succeeded in finding Men Kumera!

Yes, in the fashion of the Man Orange, I was stunned to find not one, but two racily-shaped kumera in the vegie aisle.

Luckily, I rushed home to breathlessly photograph them, because the next night Husband ruthlessly roasted one of them to have with dinner. (Very nice it was too, with roast beef, potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, peas, corn and gravy.)

What shall I do with the remaining one? Put it on trademe and wait for the millions to roll in?