BALLOONS


You can read all the books, take the advice, put in the hours, be the parent of the year and out of the blue something comes along to challenge everything you think you know about your child and how to handle their temperament. Toddler mood swings, assertions of independence, discovery of the outside world - all that stuff can be handled, it has a certain logic to it. For my 2 and a half year old son James, logic gets it coat and strides off into the night however, where balloons are concerned. Yes, balloons. The merest sight of a fully blown balloon reduces James to heaving sobs, streaming snot and tearful cries of “I want to go home!” He is inconsolable. Soothing whispers, bribery, toughing it out - nothing works.
It started innocently enough at a birthday party we attended around a year ago. Much to my horror a clown had been arranged. I’ll come out and say that I’m not a great fan of clowns. The sight of a middle aged man with a three day beard and a polka dot shirt pulling plastic flowers out of his comedy trousers is not the kind of humour I think children should be subjected to. You don’t see The Wiggles resorting to clown tricks to get the laughs. Bob The Builder doesn’t have a clown friend. Anyway, back to the birthday party clown. James was quite enjoying the display of water-squirting flowers and disappearing handkerchiefs until the clown started making balloon animals. At the sound of the balloons squeaking and rubbing together poor James lost it completely. No sooner had his face creased in worry, he was at Mach 10 crying and trying to bury his face in my armpit. We had to leave. At the time I put it down to a combination of clown antics and balloon-noise. Incident forgotten.
Then at James’ own 2nd birthday earlier this year we blew up a large number of balloons as decorations, as you do. And they were no problem at all until late in the afternoon when one popped. And then another. Next thing James is buried in my shoulder again, in his bedroom refusing to take part in his own celebrations. He’s not normally prone to extravagant waterworks so something really must’ve got to him. Those blasted balloons. Mental notepad out, keep James and balloons away from each other.
Then last Friday, the concrete realisation that for now at least, James and balloons are never going to be friends. I took James to a buggy walk at the Botanic Gardens. Where, would you know it, the organisers were handing out balloons to all the children. Not a party atmosphere, no clowns, only wall to wall buggies and a blustery spring gardens. I politely declined and try to hurry James along but it was too late. What started out as a whimper quickly became long drawn out wailing. The poor wee fella! Needless to say the only buggy walking we did was straight back to the car.
I feel for James, he probably can’t quite understand why he gets so wound up either. A part of me feels helpless and a little useless too. But I try use this as a reminder that my little guy’s experiences and emotions (and I how I deal with them) can’t be neatly compartmentalized. Sometimes there is no easy answer. I guess its all I can do just to be here for him when the balloons start floating his way and to count my blessings that its only balloons and not say, toilets or parked cars.

WHO HAS HIDDEN THE EMOTIONAL REMOTE CONTROL?
There is absolutely no question that James has my attention. We do, after all, spend all day every day together and I am never far away if not right there with him. He is not unwell; its true what they say, you can tell when they are crying for real and this is most definitely not real crying. He is certainly not bored; we lead a pretty active life, go to playgroup, music group, play outside, go to parks, play with toys, take train rides. Nor is he tired; sleeps in the afternoon, goes to bed at 7pm with no dramas and sleeps like a champion. James is in every sense a well adjusted, happy, loved, two and half year old boy.

So why does this happen?

Time: 5.40am. James has woken up with the first light and trundles sleepily down the corridor to mummy and daddy's bedroom where, like every morning, he groggily thuds on the door.

JAMES: Daddy... open the door.

ME: (very sleepily, I have been awake all of 1 minute) Okay James, hang on little buddy.

(I get out of bed, open to the door to the bedroom and hug James. Then I go to open the cupboard to get my dressing gown.)

JAMES: Noooo! Don't wear your dressing gown daddy!

ME: James, its cold buddy, I need to wear my dressing gown so I can make a cup of tea and get your bottle.

JAMES: Nooo! I don't want a bottle.

ME: James, let go of my leg mate, I need to put my dressing gown on.

JAMES: (crying) I want a bottle!

ME: (gently) Okay buddy, I'll go and get your bottle. You wait here.

JAMES: Noooooo! Daddy stay here, don't shut the door.

ME: (still gently) You can come with me and help me get the bottle mate.

JAMES: (crying even harder) I don't waaaaaant my bottle!!

ME: Okay James, stay here while I go and make a cup of tea.

JAMES: (like a tap, the crying has topped and this next sentence is delivered very jauntily) Daddy can get my diggers!

(Note, James' diggers are a group of around a dozen toy diggers, dumptrucks etc. He takes them everywhere round the house. In the morning they usually make the journey from his bedroom and end up on my bedside table. See photo for proof).


ME: (slightly bemused by the suddden about turn) Sure mate, I just need to have a pee first and make a cup of tea.

JAMES: (suddenly and shockingly crying harder than ever) Nooooooo! I want daddy to get my diggers!

(James follows me, crying, to the toilet where he pulls at my dressing gown with surprising strength causing me to...well lets say I mopped later that morning and washed the dressing gown)

JAMES: (still crying) Daddy's not allowed to go wees! I want my bottle!

ME: Shhhhhh, its okay little buddy I'm going to get your bottle and your diggers and bring them to the bedroom. You watch.

(James pads off down the hallway into our bedroom and I follow soon after with the diggers. I then carefully retreat to the kitchen where I prepare the beverages and return to the bedroom. I find James in bed, sucking his fingers with several books laid out in front of him. He looks up at me smiling.)

JAMES: (quietly, contentedly) You can read me a book daddy!


Wow. What a trip and it is not even 6am. I am in constant awe of this behaviour. It doesn't upset me, far from it. I am fascinated by the randomness, the thought processes that James cycles through with such rapidity. I don't feel helpless, just pure, mountain spring awe. It is, I have decided, like an emotional remote control that someone has gone and sat on thus pressing all the buttons at once. Chaos reigns; the volume goes uuuuuP...and goes dooooown. The pictures flash randomly, its impossible to keep up...and then, just as suddenly as all the buttons are squeezed the remote is discovered only for the holder to casually say, "oh, I've been sitting on it all along. Silly me. Lets watch...the happy channel!"

THE MOWER FIXATION

James has many fun-triggers - people, activities, toys, filmed entertainment, food - that get him excited. Some of these things are fleeting, mere flings, flights of fancy in his busy life. Some things last longer, reach peaks of enjoyment and then taper away. And some things are hot wired into his remarkable little brain to such an extent that he exhibits Steve Austin-like powers of perception where they are concerned. There is no tapering, no fling, these are the love stories of his toddlerdom.
One such love affair is with the humble lawn mower. The gravitational pull of this mild-mannered grass cutting implement is at its most powerful around my trusty Masport. When I'm mowing the lawn nothing else on earth exists except the dribble down the front of his jumper as he watches me slack jawed through the window.
But the real power of this fixation lies in its unexpected reveal. In the car, driving to Porirua, suddenly, "Dad! That tractor is mowing the lawn!" He can barely see over the window ledge but sure enough in the distance, through some bushes, beyond a cluster of school buildings is a speck of a tractor with a mower attachment. There is no question of hearing it; the radio is on. But somehow with a nearly 360 degree view of the passing landscape, passing cars, pedestrians, buildings, James is able to pick out the ant-sized John Deere trimming the football field. If the Yanks heard of this I'm sure they'd use him to find Bin Laden. The trick would be getting him to mow the lawn at Al Quaeda HQ.

THE ALLURE OF JOHNSONVILLE

Cap in hand I can honestly say that I have tried to like Johnsonville. I even looked at a couple of places to rent there. I was adamant that the health and wellbeing of James and Camille coupled with handy amenities took precedent over say, the vast hills of gorse that encircle the concrete slab of a shopping district which is only an exhaust fume's-breath from the motorway. No we didn't rent there. If we had I fear I would be undertaking the modern day equivalent of shooting myself in the leg to avoid front line duty in wartime.

Up until today trips to Johnsonville have been limited to supermarket expeditions. They've got a pretty good 24/7 Woolworth's and an average to crap Countdown. But I'll shop wherever the nappies are cheapest and this means, occasionally, Johnsonville. But today was different. No shopping list, only James, a train ride and me needing to check out the Johnsonville pool for pre-school swimming lessons.

To be fair the pool is okay - nothing too flash but I'll reserve judgement till we actually go and swim there. My attempts to get information on a pre-school swimming program were however unsuccessful. There was no written information at hand and after a flimsy excuse about new programs coming up and therefore a re-editing of material I was given a phone number to ring. Because the pool, the pool doesn't organise their own swimming lessons. When I enquired as to why, an officious looking man in a stiff shirt appeared and asked if 'everything was okay?'. His tone of voice suggested he was dealing with a drunkard trying to get into a bar as opposed to a father and son enquiring abbout paying to use the pool. I walked out of the door with the theme music from Curb Your Enthusiasm ringing in my ears and James tugging at my lapel. Like I said, judgement is reserved.

Squinting at the sun reflecting off the thousands of gorse flowers ringing Johnsonville like a crown of, er thorns I thought it might be nice to find a wee park for James to run around in. And here's where things come a bit unstuck; the only playground we could find existed inside the gargantuan McDonalds, the proud centrepoint of J'ville. As a matter of fact it was a big ask finding a blade of grass - every inch of land not built on has been lovingly laid over with robust, grey, concrete. Not to be outdone we decided to check out some roadworks. Diggers and dumptrucks are just about the most entertaining sight for young James and we were treated to a solid 4 minutes of dumptruck 'n bulldozer action before...all the workmen went to lunch. Bugger. Oh I nearly forgot, on the way to the roadworks we found another playground too, this one much smaller and located in the Burger King.

So. We've walked the length of the shopping district - correction, I've walked, James has sat atop my shoulders - and found not one but two playgrounds, no grass and some heavy machinery lying idle. Perhaps a coffee. Rest the legs and the shoulders, treat James to a fluffy and a marshmallow. And here is where the nightmare turns into a fully fledged, brutal horror. THERE ARE NO CAFES IN JOHNSONVILLE. Yes I know there is a Starbucks and do you honestly think that counts? Not in bloody Wellington it doesn't. In fact I don't think I've ever seen fewer 'bucks per head of population than down here. Also not counting are the three 'bars and cafes' I came across. Here's a hint as to why; all three had proudly flapping tarpaulins advertising cheap beer should you wish to start drinking before midday.

Thanks Johnsonville, I'll be back to see you when your nappies are on special.

The poor wee fella is full of cold tonight. He's coughing gently, persistently and the lack of breath is making his cheeks flushed, sticky with his tears. Its a very well known cliche, most recently uttered by Tony Soprano (as I recall it), that every parent would surely take their children's pain upon themselves rather than see them suffer. The fact that even Tony Soprano said it speak volumes about the power of the emotion - this is the captain of the New Jersey mafia talking here!

If I was pressed into saying what part of this job I find toughest, I'd say it is having to stay inside with a sick boy when the sun is hammering down and all James wants to do is anything that takes him outside. James LOVES being outside. Anything that involves (in his words) "getting the digger and digging a big hole and putting it in the dumptruck and breaking it up into little pieces whoooosh". The best place to do this is of course outside where he has access to spades, buckets and most importantly, soil.


And if its not gardening its the playground. The wee chap is remarkably proficient on the flying fox, the swings or the ladders - anything that gets him high off the ground. And speaking of playgrounds we have just this week discovered Jungle-Rama, a vast new rave coloured, largely inflated playground in Newtown. Its utterly brilliant and will happily keep James entertained at least till he's married.


But we haven't done any of that today. Couldn't even do the normal wet weather save. So when you can't take the wee chappie outside and the sun's shining and the dog is sulking and the boy is clinging - help! What do you do? You reach for the DVD remote folks and you call up Winnie The Pooh, and Tractor Tom and Thomas and Bananas Gorilla. I'm not proud of it... but it worked goddamit, it worked.

Camille pointed out to me that major sporting events like the Olympics came around more often than my blog posts. That hurt. It was also beginning to have more than a faint whiff of truth about it. So I've sucked in my post-dinner belly and shut the dog in the lounge; its time to polish a glass and pour out the inner thoughts of Khandallah's newest attraction, the stay-at-home Dad. Please, rest awhile and drink well.

Before I pop the cork as it were, some big news. HUGE, fact. Camille is very pregnant with our second child! If you don't know this already my sincerest apologies; new jobs, new city etc etc. Anyway, the pregnancy. 15 weeks pretty much today. The defining characteristic of this, our second impending miracle, is sickness. I can't say morning sickness as that does a disservice to afternoons, evenings and night times all of which are equally deserving in the sickness honour roll. My poor wife, she musters up enough energy to sound chirpy on the radio for 4 hours a day and spends the other 20 sleeping, eating (although not as much as we're led to believe) or lying on the couch. Thanks to a hefty supply of anti nausea pills and those nifty bands you put on your wrist to combat sea sickness the trips to the loo are abating. Michel, our Swiss obstetrician is confident Camille's fortunes (and stamina) will improve. Fingers and toes crossed huh? James, darling ebullient, jumping James, when told of the baby in Mummy's tummy said "Oh? Nice baby..", patted Camille's belly and went back to his Play-Doh.

Ah James. The apple of my eye. And, if I were to be completely literal, my job now. If I may say so myself one that I have taken to with much gusto. The last few weeks were preoccupied with setting up the family home; we found somewhere to live, unpacked all the boxes and connected all the amenities. Those weeks also saw us visited by nearest and dearest; visits that were vastly appreciated I might add. Such emotional stability as provided by family and friends comes in uber-handy when you've chucked in your job and moved away from the only city you've ever lived in. Thanks everyone for dropping by. So, visiting hours over and household framework nailed together the last couple of weeks have been spent bravely exploring new frontiers; father and son on a mission to...make friends. I've been helped in this mission by James almost daily uttering of the sentence "...and I'm going to go to kindy...and meet some new boys and girls and kids and ladies..." Quite.

Driving me is a desire to see James play with children his own age. As easy as it would be to sit home and watch Curious George or The Wiggly Christmas every day I don't want James growing up to be one of those children junk food legislation is aimed at. As for me making new friends, I am haunted by an early episode of Seinfeld when Jerry makes a new friend, a pro baseball player. Jerry is, predicatably, conflicted by this new friendship - who makes new friends when you're an adult? It feels weird. Neurotic perhaps but for better or for worse Sienfeld has left its mark on my own neuroses. To heck with it - I had to get out there and mingle with the Khandallah Mothers Scene if only for James' health and well-being. I am happy to report that it has, so far, been a total success. Just today we attended our first playgroup; a 2 hour session for parents to throw their offspring into a child friendly environment; toys toys toys, playgrounds, painting you name it. And mothers. Wall to wall mothers. Was I daunted? Yes. Was I overwhelmed? Definitely. Did James take to it like ducks to the wet stuff? You betcha. And I followed. I had no choice really. And how did it end? We were the last to leave and I'm not sure who dragged who back home - we both had a great time. To slather icing on an already sweeeet cake, we had our neighbour round for afternoon tea today, Helen and her 18 month old Lily. James and I met Helen and Lily in the park (as you do) and quickly ascertained that we a) both knew no one here and b) lived on the same street. Brilliant! I'll let Camille have the last word on this visit: "They were nice! You're allowed to hang out with them." Thanks my darling.

I'm still waiting for it to rain. And get really cold. Sure there's been the odd shower and yes the southerly is getting the temperature down around the 5 degree mark most mornings. But so far its been no colder than Auckland and the air is much cleaner thanks to Augie Auer's spirit breezing up the South Coast and blowing out the cobwebs. Just quietly, I'll keep talking about the weather as longs as folks think I'm being delusional.
Hey, wanna hear some good news though? We've found a house! This week has been a flurry of activity that will conclude with the arrival of the relocation truck at the new address at 9am tomorrow morning. The house is in the suburb of Khandallah, not somewhere we ever considered being able to afford on the one income. But we stumbled across a bargain; the kind of rambling old villa that sits quietly waiting for desperados like us to come along. Its not perfect; it needs a bit of fencing and will no doubt take a bit of heating but it has good bones. It is dry (cold), it is spacious (cold) and it has great character (ugly wallpaper in the kitchen). And most of all, it welcomes Chili-dog with open arms, something most rental properties in Wellington have trouble doing. Either this city isn't very dog friendly at all or maybe I am just acutely aware of the thin lipped smiles that greet canine enquiries becuase we seek acceptance all over again. Thats ok, a whole new City Council to feign ignorance with when I am caught exercising Chili on a beach that breeds Blue Penguins.
The house. Found it on Monday, presented our list of demands Monday night, had them accepted Tuesday, signed the agreement Wednesday, had the cleaners in Thursday (today) and as I mentioned before, we are reunited with our belongings tomorrow. I'll spend most of the weekend unpacking and with cautious fingers crossed we will be out off the Lambton Shoe Box on Sunday.
Maybe then this will stop feeling like a holiday and start feeling like something shiny and new.

Chris

The die is cast, the move has been made and via plane ride (Camille and James) and virtually non-stop car journey (Chris) we arrived in Wellington last weekend. Its taken nearly a week to gather our thoughts and come to terms with the fact that we are much closer to Christchurch than we were a week ago...

But, 5 days in and we're all starting to find our feet; Camille LOVES the people she is working with and has been immediately enveloped by the family-like atmosphere. I popped by today with James and was accosted by numerous people telling us how great it was having Camille on the station... and it was all so genuine! The finely honed Auckland-grown cynic in me was banished instantaneously. Its good to know Camille is in a such a good place of work. If you get a chance to listen you can stream the Wellington Classic Hits at classichits.co.nz.

James is settling down as much as a 2 year old can settle in a 15 square metre apartment in downtown Lambton Quay. We are about 200 metres from the Beehive which is definitely cool but no so good for wee boys. I've looked and I've looked but there doesn't seem to be a playground located around Parliament. I think they need one; it would certainly lighten up the serious faces on the suits who have to deviate from their determined walks as James and I amble past with the buggy. Having said that we are constantly discovering new playgrounds as we search for somewhere to live. And I think he is loving having his Dad around every day. After a hesitant start (he pushed the boundaries really hard on the first two days) we have started to click.

And me? I am really, really happy. Slowly but surely I am slowing down, forgetting about work-speed and learning James-speed. It is early days but already feels mighty liberating. Liberating... and exhausting! And when I can, furiously looking for somewhere to live. It is all-consuming and I have taken on a slightly maniacal look in my eye which may have scared the odd letting agent. I cornered one today to make an impassioned plea to revoke their strict No Dog policy. Camille virtually had to drag me away. I don't think we'll get that house... Buuut the house with our name on it is just around the corner. A corner. Any corner. Please just show us the corner!

And Wellington? Wellington is fantaaaastic. Anyone reading this in muggy old Auckland may well scoff that its only because the weather has been kind. Thats partly true (we have been able to hit the playgrounds everyday after all) but the feel of the city is encouraging, even though as I write this the bar located in the street below our apartment is playing Brown Eyed Girl for the umpeenth time this week. Only tonight there is a significant crowd singing along. Awesome.

Tacky old Van Morrison songs aside, it feels great to be here.

Chris

There were widespread scenes of disbelief and panic across Auckland over the Easter break as we were plunged headlong into a storyline not amiss in a series of Doctor Who. Hundreds of thousands of mild mannered Easter holiday goers had their plans thrown into disarray due to a sudden bout of involuntary time travel. Overnight bags filled with long pants and pullovers, car boots packed to the brim with board games, DVD's and gaming consoles - these were all rendered obsolete as people ran screaming from their houses, baches, tents and holdiay rental accomodation into the warm, inviting arms of sunshine. How can this be?? they all shouted to one another. We were told to brace ourselves for thunderstorms, heavy rain, late autumn temperatures! We must've been crudely transported back in time to January 2007. There are boats on the harbour! Children building sandcastles! Shit films on at the cinema! Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (the orginial) on telly! Don't tell us its the Easter break you morons, time travel is the ONLY logical explanation.

All these people have a point you know. The weather report is never wrong so there has to have been a vast rift in the space time continuum open long enough for the population of Auckland to tumble backwards 4 months to the early January we were robbed of. At least that's my theory and I'm sticking to it. The Guzzwells (having laboriously prepared for adverse weather conditions) stuffed the boot with every conceivable attention-diverting plaything for James, some hefty reading material for the grown ups and well, Chili's bed. Sorry Chili - you were always going to be morose couped up inside, there's nowt much we can do about that. We were off to Waiheke Island. And not just a flash in the pan, ooh-look-Oneroa's-quite-a-nice-beach day trip but a serious, 4 day, pretend-we're-locals, stay on the island that many people (Waihekians at least) call the jewel of the Hauraki Gulf. Well they're hardly going to call it the MacDonald's Happy Meal Toy of the Haurkai Gulf, are they? We were house sitting for our dear friend Dallas, who was off up to Whananaki with his whanau. And all was going according to plan until we too fell victim to that bloody involuntary time travel I mentioned earlier.

Imagine arriving on the island with all the appearance of a family setting off for a snowboarding adventure only to be slapped in the face by a wall of heat ambling across the mainland with the unstoppable momentum of a front row forward, his eye on the tryline and only a midget fullback between his hamhock thighs and try-scoring glory. Yes, we were a family of midget fullbacks, with no choice but to step aside and let that wall of heat crash through us, over us, on its way to covering the island for the next four solid days. We surrender! we cried, although our cries were muffled as we desperately shed our wintery gear in favour of Ye Olden Summery Clothes.

That most pure of optimists, the person who put last year money on the Black Caps to win this World Cup, yes even he could not have predicted the balmy climes bestowed upon us over Easter weekend. Even the weather was unprepared and the fleeting low pressure system that peetered out across the top of New Zealand managed to feebly fart a Friday afternoon's worth of southwest raspberries. It was enough to ruffle the pages of my book and scuff up the sand above the high tide mark on the wee beach at the foot of the garden. Still weary of the sun (it couldn' last) it was also enough to send us off on a famous Guzzwell Family Explor-a-thon. I was working on the premise that I needed a decent land-based fishing spot for I planned to head out early on Sunday morning. Everyone kicks a goal. Oh and did I mention how beautiful the island is? It makes up for a distinct lack of native bush with eye-popping coastlines, sweeping vineyards and olive tree plantations. Legend has it that if you squint carefully the vista can be mistaken for somewhere in the mediterannean. The drive was a perfect way to ease us into the long weekend and a great way to keep James from the autumnal waters of the Gulf.

The wind lost its game of cat and mouse with the sun however and by Saturday morning a tranquil hush had descended over our patch of coastline; pleasure craft gently rocked their moorings out in the bay, accompanied by vague splashes as anchors dropped and people swam. Louder splashes and relaxed shouts of happy children were heard closer to shore with only the occasional drone of of an outboard motor suggesting anything so energetic as actual movement. The most relaxed shout and loudest splashes of all were coming from our own firecely burning sun, James, to whom the words sitting and still are part of an ancient dialect he has no desire to acquaint himself with.


A keen exponent of 'kicking the ball' and 'digging the big hole' (his words not ours), it was a herculean task to get him to stop even for food. Such are the great pleasures of this life and I can honestly say that if I thought hole digging and ball kicking was fun when I was tiny, its a different universe of good times now. This is how we spent our Easter. And when holes weren't being dug and balls weren't being kicked wee ate well, managed to read in fits and bursts and were asleep by 9.30pm every night. You gotta love that sea air..

Oh and I caught a backpack full of snapper at Opopo Bay, a decent walk at the Eastern corner of Waiheke. Sweet, sweet icing on an Easter bunny cake.

Happy 2007 everyone! A new year - must be time for heaps of new photos. It has been a pretty full on year so far - had a busy but great Christmas, a fabulous Waiheke NYE, lots of extra fill in work for Camille, James has had chicken pox, tonsillitis, reacted to antibiotics and is now seriously ooober mr chatty chat, Chris has been frantic with his busy-est Big Day Out ever, lots of cricket fun with James, plus all the usual Guzzwell fun - swimming lessons, beach visits and general good times.
Anyway enough chat, onto some photos ... starting off with Waiheke fun times over the New Years break. Chris, Camille, James, Chili and Davo all went over and stayed with Dallas at his place on Kennedy Point - look at the awful view from his lounge.

Chris and Camille doing some silly posing in front of Dallas' place on the lawn.

James made himself very comfortable on Waiheke, despite the fact that we had no idea he had chicken pox, oh well he had a great time anyway.

I do love this photo of Davo and Chris singing their little hearts out to the Arctic Monkeys! Tee hee...

Camille and Dallas hanging out on the balcony checking out those awful views.

This is one of James favourite Xmas presents from his Yaya - the bestest water slide ever! So much fun ...

Family photos on Pauanui Beach in summer - James with all of his cousins Peter, Michael, Amy and Lauren.

Back home and helping Mum out with some baking. I mean doesnt everyone like to lick the beaters?!

James went to his first proper kids concert - Bob the Builder and Barney the dinosaur and took his girlfriend Ruby. James was completely terrified and we had to leave the show early ... didnt matter though cos Ruby had a ball!

Surfer dude Jimmy James ...

We will finish with a couple of very special photos of Bailey with James. James cuddling her in the car just before Xmas...

Here they are hanging out down at Pauanui over the summer break.
RIP Baia - we miss you very much. xxx

Ok ok ... so I've been a bit slack with postings recently - it's been a frantic couple of weeks ... Chris has now got white blonde hair (a work challenge I promise!), I've had a bit of extra work on at Viva, James had a fabulous week holiday in Pauanui (without any parents!), plus all the usual busy times getting ready for Christmas etc etc. I thought I'd just say a quick hi and post a whole lot of new photos today, so here goes.

Christophers new hair colour - it was all in aid of a band called My Chemical Romance. I think it's pretty cute that James and him now have the same coloured hair, plus it suits actuallly suits him.


James hanging out in Pauanui during his holiday ... here by the spa pool.


Surfing in the backyard in Pauanui - he can't quite do this move in the water yet but we are working on it...


A recent trip to the zoo with his girlfriends Ruby and Amelia - catching the safari train around the zoo.


James showing how talented he is at poking his tongue out whilst at the zoo with mum.


Hanging out with Dad in a cafe with their matching Boston Red Sox hats on.


A recent train trip that a bunch of us cool mums took out to Swanson in West Auckland for a cafe visit and some playground fun - the kids just LOVED the train. Here is James and some of his mates posing for us - left to right is: Emily, James, Ruby, Ben, Amelia and Thomas


Rightyo that will do for now I think!?! The countdown til Xmas has begun so take it easy everyone, oh and extra special love to my Auntie Nette and the rest of the Tauranga posse - see you at Christmas! Camille x

FINALLY. It has been weeks of gentle pestering from Camille and the nagging feeling that if I leave it much longer I will start to forget what I want to write down that has prompted me to forge my inaugural post. And to be fair i have a whale of a tale to document - a long weekend spent in Boston, Massacheusetts. Thanks to extremely benevolent employers and some clever positioning from me, I got the opportunity to take my mate Brad King to Boston over Labour weekend on the Warner Music ticket. Brad happens to program The Rock Network - as well as being a mate he is an extremely important client of mine and lets face it, if being friendly with me was the only reason for coming on the trip then I would have chartered an entire plane. Or got Grant to fly one of the Airforce Hercs....hmmm, one day perhaps. And the reason for the trip? Seeing the Red Hot Chili Peppers in concert, one of Warner Music's most important bands. Their recently released double album Stadium Arcadium has been my main focus since i started working for WEA 7 months ago.
Right, got enough back story? In a nutshell, I am a very lucky bastard. Work perks don't come much perkier than this. Having said that, I HATE INTERNATIONAL AIR TRAVEL. Sardine Class was not measured with my lanky frame in mind and I'm sure that by the time we reached Los Angeles I had the word Sealord stamped on my forehead. And to make matters worse, US domestic air travel is even worse. But first, 9 hours in Los Angeles. 10am Thursday morning, sunny day - lets go to Santa Monica. Why not? Very Baywatch, but the pier rather looked like they were stashing all the rides that appeared at Big Day Out. Bloody big though. But then, everything in US and A is bigger than your average.

Check out the photo - yes Brad is looking staunch but in the background you'll see a dirty old man taking photos of two girls young enough to be his daughters but not behaving in a very daughterly fashion. Such a magnificent American cliche signposted the remainder of our day in Los Angeles. We sat in a cab for an hour at 2 in the afternoon and the cab driver complained that he was losing money and the traffic jam was our fault becuase of where we wanted to go; went to a SHITTY movie in Hollywood (The Grudge 2; DO NOT go and see it or i will be the one holding a Grudge - against you). The King of Cliches rounded out the day - we drank Budweiser, ate wings and watched baseball at Hooters. It was marvellous.
Right, US domestic air travel - American Airlines to be exact. Have you ever been in an Air new Zealand Link plane from Nelson to Wellington? The ones so small that they actually fire you into the sky with a rubberband? Remember the seats? Air NZ bought them off American Airlines. Oh and the plane was dirty, the staff were rude and to rub flaky sea salt into an already jagged wound, the movie was The Lake House with Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves. Both thespians I'm sure you will agree are among the finest actors of our generation. We couldn't get to Boston quick enough.
Thanks to the date line, we arrived in Boston Friday morning (we left Auckland Thursday evening). Cool. Not quite as cool was the jet lag - that and 30 hours with no sleep. Still, Chili Peppers tonight and by crikey, we're in Boston! After the short cab ride from the airport and vaguely registering that Boston looked very, very cool we checked into our hotel at 9am and slept till 4pm.
Awake! First stop, figuring out where the venue for the Chilis show is. Brilliantly, I'd booked a hotel that was half a block away (thats what it said on the website). In reality it was about 200 m down the road. Sweet. Next stop, coffee. This wasn't quite as successful as find-the-stadium and we wandered for half an hour through downtown Boston past loads of people holding the ubiquitous Starbucks cup, but with no luck. Eventually we found a coffee kiosk - not Starbucks though! Suitably revived we wandered back towards the hotel and found a top notch seafood reastaurant. I ate a LOT of seafood in Boston and all of it was wonderful.
Aaaaaanyway, Friday was all about the Chili Peppers and yeah we were pretty excited. The venue (TD Banknorth Garden) is the home of the Boston Celtics (basketball) and Boston Bruins (ice hockey). Both teams have History and this 20 000 seater indoor arena is, so I'm told, about as good as it gets. VERY user friendly; great acoustics, great facilities - ah jeez, I'm sounding like a venue nerd here but when you're used to making excuses for the Supertop this place was like Buckingham Palace. The Chili's weren't bad either.

In fact they played magnificently - John Frusciante the lead guitarist is riveting. He alone is worth price of admission. I cannot adequately describe how good he is without wanting to repeatedly type swear words. Lets just say i don't think I've ever seen a better guitar player than this man. And then there was the light show, another eye opener. I guess it is too costly for bands to bring their rigs to New Zealand - we're lucky if they bring a big sheet of material with the band's logo painted on. Check out the photos - see what i mean? The only bummer about the evening was that the show started nearly two hours late; traffic problems caused by shitty weather meant the Chili's were late getting to the venue. Late show equals tired band so Brad and I didn't get to meet them post-show save for a quick hi to Chad Smith who looked utterly bemused when we said we'd come over from NZ to see them play.
How good was the sleep that night - a chance to catch up fully with the glorious promise of a weekend in Boston to come.
Friday rain gave way to the kind of crisp, clear autumnal day that makes its way into sightseeing brochures. So, we went walking. We walked for most of Saturday as a matter of fact - right across town through Boston Common (oldest park in America) to the kind of shopping disctrict that makes Newmarket look like Henderson. Bought a Red Sox cap for James and a Red Sox cap for me (Brad bought a Red Sox cap too) and had lunch at a small Italian place that did great calamari. Did i mention how good the seafood was? Saturday night saw a very bloody exciting return to the Garden - this time to watch NHL, the Bruins vs Buffalo Sabres.

Huge! HUGE! Live ice hockey is phenomenal. It is brutal, it is balletic and it is damn exciting. It helps that you're watching it in a stadium built for enjoyment of the game (New Zealand Stadium detractors take note). We drank lots of beer from large plastic cups - American beer, by the way, is piss-weak. Post-game we had a short to an Italian restuarant in the North End - a district noted for its culineray reputation. I had Veal Aubergine Parmigiana - it was the best i've ever tasted. You could cut the veal with a spoon. Did i mention how good the food was here?
Sunday morning time for a spot of sightseeing. Not that we hadn't been sightseeing all along but we actually paid to go on a boat ride and listen to a taped conversation about the history of Boston harbour.


It was bewdiful - perfect morning and the cityscape was glittering. Saw more than a few familia buildings from the Boston Legal cut-away shots and yes it was very cool. Tried and tried but didn't see Denny Crane - or Alan Shore. Something tells me they don't film the program in Boston.
Next some sightseeing of an unusual nature - we took a cab ride to a suburban neighborhood - the kind that has a strip mall - franchised buildings cascading down the length of 8 lane highways with residential sprawl falling away behind - quintessentially American. We were on a mission to find the Boston Harley Davidson dealership so i could buy some memorabilia for Jez, my boss. Something remarkable happened as we were trying to find a cab back to town - for starters, we couldn't. We eventually wandered into a service station and were trying to translate our Kiwi accents to the zombified attendant behind the bulletproof glass when a hispanic boy racer screeched to a halt alongside. He lumbered out of his car, hitched up his jeans and asked us if we needed a cab. Yes, we said. No problem, I'll call one for you he said - and quick as a flash he was on his cellphone ordering us our ride back into town. And the whole time he was acting like we'd just asked him for the time. Pretty cool huh?
In an effort to soak up more American culture we spent the rest of Sunday playing pool, drinking beer and watching World Series baseball - all at the same time thanks to the two storey sports bar just round the corner from the hotel. Bloody lovely.
Monday morning in Boston town and time for the lads to do some power shopping. I had lists, i had requests and i had "You'll find me something nice" which are the words that always raise the bar just that little bit higher than your previous best jump. I had my trump card though - a shop called Urban Outfitters. It may as well have been called Camille's Closet. Sweet. Baby Gap was my secret weapon for James - and my back up trump card for Camille. Just quietly, i get a buzz from bringing cool stuff back for my family.
Stink, airport time - 20 hours of air travel stretching ahead like a never ending queue for the loo after you've just drunk 2 litres of water. Oh and the first part of it was on US dometic so imagine you're standing in the queue and someone is poking you in the kidneys for the first 6 hours. Actually it wasn't that bad, clear night skies and me with a window seat meant that apart from cramped leg spasms i watched America fly by beneath me as clusters of light. It was pretty cool. 1 hour at LAX and everything on time meant that apart from not being able to find the Qantas check in we hopped planes with ease. Qantas is fantastic but i won't bore you with the details of their in-fligt entertainment program or the top drawer service - by now i'm itching to get home and see my family so i could've watched Julia Roberts films for 12 hours and it would've been okay.
And besides, I've just been to Boston for a long weekend with a mate to watch the Red Hot Chili Peppers and i get to say its part of my job. I really am a very lucky fella.

There wont be any clowns at James next birthday party, that's for sure. A couple of weekends ago we went to Joe Szustermans 1st birthday which was glorious fun until ... Lollipop the Clown came out with his magic tricks & noisy balloons, next thing you know, all hell broke lose with James and all of a sudden we had to take him home!! Never mind, nobody likes a grown man who plays with children anyway huh?

I do love the photo of him at the top in his pjammies, he has learnt to say "cheese" for the camera now which is hilarious!
The rest of that weekend was busy with James and Dad doing some serious cooking, as you can see from the helpful picture above of James washing some veges in with his water bottle. I did my usual Sunday afternoon show so the boys took off to the Zoo for some fun.
Since then this past week has been pretty uneventful with me catching camphylobacter from some dodgy chicken nachos last Friday so I have spent the past 5 days in bed - thank goodness Mum could come up and help out with James as just looking at him exhausted me! My first proper day out of bed (& toilet) is today Thursday which is terribly exciting for me. That's about all for now, stay tuned for the great overseas adventure posting next from Chris! Camille x

A big night out at the NZ Music Awards last Wednesday where Chris was personally thanked ("especially Chris Guzzwell my man on the ground") by awesome NZ legend Dave Dobbyn, and all round nice guy, in his acceptance speech - YAY go Chris!! And didnt he scrub up well...

The next day it was time for us all to pack up - Chris was off to Boston to see the Red Hot Chilli Peppers (a new blog with his photos coming soon) so James, Chili and I took off to Pauanui to visit Mum. We picked up my niece Lauren on the way down and all we heard in the car on the way was; nana nana nana in between the occasional digger, roller and corker of course. We had a lovely few days - running, swimming and playing at both the beach and the estuary as well as the playground. A primo beach shot of James, Nana and Lauren here ...


But the highlight of the trip for James had to be the arrival of his new best mate Bailey the dog. Bailey is my sister Michelle's old lovely placid family dog who puts up with a lot more than Chili does! James was beside himself with excitement to see "Baila" and spent most every waking moment trying to cuddle her, sit on her, kiss her and generally just hang out with her. It was very cute even if it did lead to a few scratchy allergy moments.
We are all back home now - stay tuned for Chris' posting of his USA adventure soon. Cheerio, Camille x

New words, new clothes and new skills... James has reached a new level of achievement in his swimming lessons, he is now officially allowed to submerge! Very exciting stuff for Chris, who does the lessons with him, plus James simply loves going under - check out the photo from his lesson on Saturday.
Favourite new words he has learnt recently include - cool, I don't know, corker, bubba roller, wow and two. Hearing him say corker is hilarious especially when he mixes it with a "wow" but one of his favourite is still digger. Of course.

He scored some gorgeous new Gap clothes from Uncle Grant (& Auntie Helen of course) including the most gorgeous pair of PJ's for next winter with planes on them -soooo cute.
We spent another weekend in the garden with James helping out immensely with spreading the new compost whilst Chris contructed the most amazing vege garden, bring on the bounty!!

Cousin Blair from Tauranga is staying at the moment and has been caught up to speed on the latest Hairy Mclary books as well as drawing some brilliant chalk artwork on the pavement with James. Good times in the Guzzie household.
Today James did one of his most brilliant decorating jobs yet; the entire contents of Mummy's lip balm all over the rug, nice. Not quite finished he decided to empty the contents of my aromatherapy oil all over the floor and then walk it all over the floors - a lovely greasy effect. The joys of children! Camille x

Weekend family fun - bush walking & gardening. It was a pretty gorgeous weekend which meant a great opportunity for us to get outside and appreciate nature. Firstly we headed off for a bush walk to the Waitakeres where we squeezed James into the backpack for what could be his last time, damn, he is nearly 14 kilos now which is not great for Chris' back!!
Still it is a lot quicker that way rather than walking with him ... he tends to get distracted and pick up bark, stones and dawdle in the bush. Very cute though.

Then while I went off to do my radio show Chris set himself up to do some gardening with James "helping". His idea of helping was to throw some rocks, massacre a few plants with Chris trying to gently persuade him to dig in the soil rather than the lawn in between kicking the ball around. Oh well I am sure it will get better with time. Here is a picture of the gardeners resting!
All of a sudden the weekend was over and back to the week. James caught up with his mates Ruby and Amelia where they had a ball playing with a blackboard and chalk - not sure how much chalk actually ended up on the board as there seemed to be a lot on each of the kids! That'll do for now, touch base again soon. Camille x

Gotta love yoghurt!!
I thought it was time to share with you all how much James LOVES yoghurt ... in his tummy, his hair, his face, ears and all over his clothes. The joys of watching them try to feed themselves!
Chris came home from a busy (ie. drunken) couple of days at conference straight back into full on family times - swimming on Sat was fabulous, bonding one on one with James and a traumatic brunch experience on sunday am. James had some of his hair completely pulled out by a nasty little girl who was older and bigger than him at the sandpit at Atomic Cafe in Ponsonby Rd - he was sooo upset it took him 30 minutes to calm down. (It took me all afternoon!) Phewee ....
Here he is spinning around the house on his ride on cow!



Tuesday was a busy day with catching up with friends in the morning and James spending some quality time with Yaya (greek for grandmother) at St Lukes in the afternoon. Mariana completely spoilt James rotten with news clothes and a very cool set of plastic rackets and ball which he loves to bits.
Today we did the cafe with Auntie Yo and met Grandad who took James out for some fun at the garden centre - particularly in the water fountains!! Check out the photo for proof!



Anyway off to meet a new baby this afternoon with my gals - will post more pictures soon. Camille x

James and I had an absolute ball at the launch of the new Kelly Tarltons "Freaky Fish" exhibit on Monday, he was very taken with the penguins and live fish up close - very cool to watch!
For our cafe this week we went on an expedition to Te Atatu peninsula where there is a divine cafe called Servo - well worth the trip as it was AMAZING! The hash browns were simply stunning and they didnt seem to mind James throwing his pineapple around a little. Phew.
Chris is away at conference at the moment and it sounds like he is having a good ole time involving quad biking, drinking, dressing up and a little bit of work. No sympathy from us if he is hungover on his return.
Today is another gorgeous spring day, a perfect day for lounging around in the sun, if you are Chili dog that is!! Here are a couple of photos of our family sleeping - Chili sleeping on the flax and grasses in the sun and James passed out in exhaustion after another busy morning playing soccer. xx

It's been a pretty busy last few days - Friday we spent the morning at the Zoo with James friends Ruby & Thomas - check out the cute photo of Ruby & James kissing!! James favoruite animals are still the elephants, monkeys and the massive tortise but unfortunately the giraffes were not on display bummer.
On Saturday we had a swimming lesson breakthrough where James really started to "get it" - he was made captain of the lesson and then he started being able to do the monkey climb along the side of the pool bar - YAY a huge improvement!
Yesterday while I was working Chris took James up North to Shakespear National Park to make a cameo appearance in the next Carly Binding video for "My Satellite" - it was a pretty big weekend all round really. Loving this spring weather - more sun please!! Today we are off to the launch of the new Kelly Tarltons Freakty Fish exhibit which will be pretty cool.
Cheerio! Camille