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I have always read Sydney’s Child, for as long as I have had children. Actually, before I had kids because I worked in child care before I became a nurse. I loved the services promoted in it and the articles.

However, when we moved up to the Coast and then further north still, into the Hunter region, Sydney’s Child just didn’t hold the same importance as everything was encompassed within the Sydney area. It was really disappointing because at the time of moving, the girls were small and I could have used some guidance in what was available in the area.

I longed for something just like it specifically for our part of the world.

A couple of weekends ago we went shopping and I found this:

A whole magazine, in the style of Sydney’s Child, just for those of us living on the Coast, in the Hunter or in the Newcastle areas!! I was so excited to find Sunny Days! See how the mag looks all rumpled and dog eared? That’s because I have spent hours leafing through it, drinking in the articles and the services available to us. It is a fantastic little paper, only in it’s infancy; this was the third issue.

I am looking forward to the next one. They are looking for people to write articles too (talking to you Mary, Tracey), I might even give it a go.

If you live in any of these areas and you have children, you should search it out. I think you’ll enjoy it as much as I did!

This is in no way a paid post - I just wanted you to know how good this was!

This is part of a writing project from Thailand Girl, Chani.

As I often use this blog as a place to air complaints, I thought it would do me good to think about some of the positive things that have happened…

"Don’t you people know what a TV is?"

I thought if I heard that question one more time I was going to scream. It had been a long, hot Summer and with six weeks of having the children home for the holidays, it was starting to wear on my nerves. It wasn’t so much that the kids were home. It was the constant judgements, that people would pass when I ventured out with family, that got to me.

Ok, there are alot of us. Seven children seems like a crowd in today’s society. I guess people are overwhelmed by our size.

Why make those comments though? Why say anything? My mother always taught me, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

"Are those all yours?"

"Gee, you must have your hands full!"

"Why would you have more children when the little one (referring to Malachy, who is a foster son and not biologically mine) is obviously not right in the head?"  Oh, yes, they did say that! To my face!

"Your husband must be on a good salary for you to keep on having kids like that." Another favourite of mine.

All these things had been said to me during the Summer break. To top it off, I had one of the babies sick and one of the big kids with a suspected problem with her thyroid gland. Both required a blood test on this particular day. It was hot and as I had no one to look after the others, they were all grumbling about having to come to the pathology unit.

To say I was stressed was an understatement and then that -  the TV comment by this grouchy old man, walking along the footpath in the opposite direction to ours.

I could feel the tears welling up as we entered the small unit to have the blood drawn. Confined spaces seem to accentuate our family size and cause people to comment all the more. So I prepared myself for the questions and comments.

Luckily there was nobody waiting and the children were as good as gold while Ivy and Imogen had blood taken.

As we were walking out, the receptionist asked if all the children were mine. Here we go…

"Yes." I answered, preparing myself for another negative comment.

She smiled, "Christmas must have been wonderful at your house, and birthday parties too!"

I smiled with her, "Thank you." I replied and herded the children out the door.

That one positive statement, made by a stranger, put everything into perspective for me that Summer. Yes, we were a big family but we enjoyed each others company. Our lives were full and rich because of it’s size, it did not hinder us. I made the decision that day that I was not going to let those negative comments get to me anymore. That one positive statement spoke volumes to me.

*Thinks to self: I should know not to bag out my paed (ever) because karma has a way of teaching you a lesson.*

Ivy is sick again. *sigh*. Will this never end?

With a tummy bug and a very sore bottom, my poor little girl, the one who is usually constantly on the go, has been very still today.

Get well baby. One day Mummy will learn that what goes around comes around.

On the weekend we bought and decorated Ivy and Noah’s new pottys. Ivy’s has stickers of handbags and shoes all over it and Noah’s is adorned with pirates. (Yes, they are waterproof stickers, friends).

With the other kids, we introduced the potty slowly. Imogen and Madeline went shopping and chose their own and their first pairs of undies. Lily was more or less the same but she didn’t like the potty, so she chose a toddler seat.

Initially we sat them on to ‘get a feel’ for using it before bathtime and progressed to them sitting on the potty when a parent was… sitting on the ‘great white throne’. For us, this worked really well (especially for the big twins) and they all trained quite easily. We had some cute little quirks along the way, like Maddy insisting she wear her pink sunhat everytime she needed to go but all in all, it went quite smoothly.

Summer is rapidly approaching, as is Ivy and Noah’s 2nd birthday and thoughts are turning to toilet training the toddlers (I think mum just wants to see me do away with my obsession with modern cloth nappies, just quietly) and I’m not sure this pair are going to be so easy.

For one, I have no idea how to toilet train a boy. I’ve never had to do it before. When Mal finally trained out of nappies he went straight to the standing position.

Secondly, we are almost nine years down the track from TT from scratch, I think I might have become rusty in my skills.

Thirdly, I have never had children sit on the potty and then proceed to race them down the hallway, scooching it along with their powerful legs, laughing at each other’s attempts to outscooch the other.

Finally, even though I spent a large part of today explaining to Noah, that you sit your bottom down on the potty he still insisted on wearing it as a hat. (Gives new meaning to the phrase ‘potty mouth’).

Truthfully, I am no hurry to have them using the toilet. Nappies are sometimes messy, sometimes they are inconvenient but having a two year old in undies brings about a whole new set of issues, let alone two toddlers in undies. I think the fact that the boy is wearing his as a fashion accessory speaks volumes about how ready they  are aren’t.