It's a love in!

There is no doubt that Henry, Milly and Buster love each other. H&M are best buddies. Yes, they have moments where they quibble but they play well together and are quite affectionate towards one another. They look out for each other and have been a great help to me keeping Buster entertained. At some point as they get older and their relationship changes I hope they remember how much they mean to one another and keep looking out for each other through their teens and into adulthood.

Mini-Mister Independent

I find introducing finger foods does a number of things.

1. Creates independence
2. Allows a baby to feel new textures and taste new foods
3. Stops a whinging baby - a teething baby likes to chew
4. Creates a mess

An Aussie right of passage. Buster's first taste of vegemite.

Getting used to his one bottle, but still prefers bitty.

Mmm.... pear. Nice and squishy.

Face paint

...and I thought the kids just wanted to come and visit me at "the biscuit shop". No, it turns out that H&M were more excited about a trip to the farmer's market because they wanted their faces painted. Oh well. I enjoyed their visit and they enjoyed getting painted. However, they didn't enjoy getting their faces scrubbed clean before bed.

Eight months old

Buster celebrates being eight months old tomorrow. The time does go by so quickly but in many ways he also is very much still a baby. I never thought I'd be one of those parents who would "baby" their child, but it turns out I am. At eight months of age I still wrap Buster to sleep and his cot is still set up in our room. We have prepared Henry's room for moving Buster in but the reality is I just can't let Buster go. In all likelihood he is our last child. I don't want to say that he is, because it just seems too final. Certainly by the time Henry and Milly had turned eight months old I had already weaned them. With Buster I just don't want to give it up. I love our 'special' time together and it can sometimes be a bit frustrating when he wants to be picked up all the time or he gets upset when he knows I'm not in the room, but deep, deep down I like that he still wants and needs me. I just hope I'm not turning him into a "mummy's boy".

So at eight months of age what is Buster up to? Well, he is finally growing some hair. It is blonde and very fine. He has his first two teeth poking through and he didn't really enjoy the teething process. He is only just starting to roll from front to back and is close to going from back to front. He is a little Mr Grabby Grabster, wanting to reach or twist and grab whatever catches his eye. He loves playing with paper and makes good use of the junk mail before it makes it to the recycling bin. He isn't very vocal. The only sounds (other than crying) are "aaarrgggg" like noises and when we try to coax a "mama" or "dada" he just looks at us and gives a shy smile or a little giggle. Actually, he doesn't really giggle. It's more of a goofy guffaw.

Buster loves his big brother Henry. Whenever Henry walks by Buster's eyes follow him and he has a big smile on his face. Henry loves Buster just as much. At first, Buster wasn't quite sure how to take Milly. Well, let's be honest, some of us still don't know how to. But he has sized her up and now watches and smiles at her, and if she gets too much he just swats her away or pulls her hair. It is Buster's relationship with his siblings that is the only thing that makes me wish he were a bit older. I can't wait to see him running around with them and what kind of games and mischief the three of them will create.

Here are some of the names we currently call Buster:

Buster Boo. Buster Booberry. Booberry Muffin. Boo Boy. Buster Boy. Henry (yes, that is me and Michael getting it wrong). Fat Baby (that one is Milly's current favourite). B-Boy. Dumpling. Chumbles. Dimples. Gorgeous.

Podium dancers

Just like us, our kids have a love of music. And just like me, they can't help but dance about the house when the moment takes them. Maybe it's not a great pre-bedtime activity but having the music up loud and dancing about is a great family thing to do and lets the kids express themselves.

Joyeaux Anniversaire Maman

Today is my mum's birthday and Bastille Day. She is in Switzerland visiting her family and is hoping to cross the border into France to celebrate her special day with the French.

This blog posting is for her to wish her a happy birthday. Photos of Henry, Milly and Buster taken today.

To market, to market

One of the mums in my mother's group is an exceptional baker. Each Thursday when we get together with the kids she usually brings some scrumptious cake, cupcake or biscuit that she has made and we all gorge ourselves silly. We would comment all the time "this is delicious, you should sell these". Similar comments were made by her work colleagues when she would take her baked goods to work. She had dreams of having a biscuit stall at the local farmers market, so I offered my support. Sinnamon was born. Before I knew it I was involved and excited to be doing something other than 'home duties'.







Lots of baking, biscuit testing, recipe creating ensued. An application was made and accepted by the local farmers market to hold a stall. Packaging, signage and stall display were needed, recipes needed to be perfected - it was all happening.


On the day of our first market, just as the sun was rising, we and everyone else are rugged up against the cold winter morning and bustling about to get our stalls and displays ready for the market open time of 8.00am. There are trucks unloading display fridges, flat top trucks with crates of fruit and vegetables. Regular stall holders came to say hello and size us up, wanting to know who the new kids on the block were and are we competition. Thankfully, because we had done our research, we knew no one else at the market solely sold biscuits, and not the adult/indulgent ones we were making.

One of my creations. A Sticky Date pudding-in-a-biscuit.

We had told everyone we knew to come and visit our stall, but we couldn't have been happier when our first customer (at 8.33am) purchased a few packets of biscuits and they were a complete stranger. Our second customer came along a few minutes later and again it was someone we didn't know. On the inside we were dancing for joy and finally felt validation. The rest of the day was great as friends, family and regular market customers checked us out and bought our biscuits. I had a lot of fun.


We also discovered "the power of the apron". At our stall we all wore an apron as a uniform. When we visited other stalls to get coffees, lunch, produce for home, the other stallholders would recognise us and give us discounts. It was a great feeling to be part of this unwritten market stallholder code - producers supporting producers - and we quickly adopted the practice at our own stall.


So our next market day will be in a week's time. We'll be appearing at the market every fortnight and have set up a blogsite and a Facebook page. http://sinnamon-bake.blogspot.com/


Personally it has given me something outside of the home to focus on and enjoy.

Winter solstice 2010

Another winter saw us head down to Kangaroo Valley for the annual bonfire. It is such a beautiful and peaceful part of the world. The kids love it as there is so much space to explore and we love it as we get to catch up with friends.

Party by the bonfire.

All for one and one for all.

Milly now brave enough to toast her own marshmallow.

Poppet play.

Emma and Dave's house at Kangaroo Valley.

Poppet on a pony.

Our little family.

Hunter Valley

We had a lovely weekend away with friends in the Hunter Valley staying in a big house in a small town called Broke. There were 18 of us (10 adults and 8 kids). It was quite an indulgent affair with food and drink aplenty. We likened it to the movie "The Big Chill". Our host, Jason, had even put together a CD compilation of music from 1991-1995, which was the time period of our Big Chill equivalent.

Buster is busted trying to get his first taste of beer.

Mmm.... toasted marshmallows.

Buster's first slide.

Milly mallow.

Henry mallow.