Me (to 6yo who fell asleep in the car): You’re a knackered tacker aren’t you. 10yo: As am I. Me: Go jump in the shower then so you can rest up after. 10yo: I do not think the occasional cleansing is necessary at this point. This work by ryivhnn is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

[At Aunty’s house] 8yo: I was a Freo supporter when I was in Mum’s belly! I was a Freo supporter before humans came to Earth! me: Before humans came to Earth? Did they come in a spaceship? 8yo: Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum [exasperated sigh] they were born from coconuts! [in car about to leave Aunty’s house] me [readjusting car controls]: Jeez [JJ] you drive like you have a carrot up your arse. 8yo: Yeah Daddy don’t drive a carrot up your arse.

I had spent a decent amount of time regaling 10yo with hilarious episodes of my 3d experimentations revolving around the shenanigans that can happen when one doesn’t parent controllers properly or grabs bones instead of controllers by accident and stuff like that. Then to prove that parents don’t know everything I showed him that I was researching some way to use a complete dynatopo sculpt rather than finishing off the multires one I was working on. While talking to him I started fixing up some errors I hadn’t noticed in the dynatopo sculpt at the time and zoomed out a bit too far, causing a brush stroke to remove too much detail over the bit I brushed over. I cried out “OH CRAP” and promptly hit the undo combo. 10yo came scurrying into the room crying “WAIT I WANT TO SEE YOUR HORRENDOUS MISTAKE!”

Seems the house gets populated by more coporeal people as I get older. Last time I recall being there when there were people there, there was some kind of masquerade ball going on. This time there was just people going about their daily business, and one of the rooms I’d been too scared to enter previously just felt a bit creepy this time round, which has been happening with more and more of the rooms in the middle section. The “open bathroom” (an alcove which has bathroom stuff in it but no outer walls) is still there and as far as I can tell still doesn’t get used. I had to take the kids “home” (thought towards the beginning I was living in the house as I do sometimes but not this time apparently), the kids and I were getting ready to leave out the front door, 8yo initially didn’t want to leave but then remembered she hadn’t had dinner.

“He’s f***in’ TEN!” JJ announced, stabbing an accusatory finger at our still sleeping birthday boy when he walked into my room on Christmas Island and noticed that I was awake. I did not star the word because I’m prudish (I generally try to tone down a bit in the blog just to be polite), JJ did actually mute the middle part as he spoke. He had expressed an unsurprising surprise, a thing that just happens but is somehow astonishing when it does. Our oldest is 10, which means we’ve been parents for ten years, together for twelve, which means we’re OLD :) (okay maybe not that old)

quadrapop: As you don’t have a dish washer I’d be bleaching or boiling the kids at least once a week fyn: why would i want to bleach and boil the kids? :) quadrapop: Our kids go through dishwasher several times a week quadrapop: Lids ffs automangle fyn: XD This work by ryivhnn is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

Minimal text, many photos, some videos. Mishmash of scenic, happysnaps and homeschooling stuff coz that’s how we roll. Grab a drink and a snack before commencing. First couple of weeks… The airport wait wasn’t terribly exciting but at least there were planes to watch being loaded, taking off and landing.

Sprat: I want your hand for my sandwich. 8yo: No. Sprat: Why not? 8yo: I need my right hand for writing and drawing and I need my left hand to help my right hand carry stuff! Sprat: Yes that’s a good reason. This work by ryivhnn is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

My mum and my sister are the kinds of people that like buying presents. They like it when we come up as they go a bit nuts spoiling the grandkids rotten which makes for a nice full tree. Every year they ask me what I want for Christmas and every year I’ve told them the same thing: get something from Oxfam Unwrapped or contribute some money to the fyn’s New Cintiq fund (my Old Faithful 12WX is getting a bit jittery in its old age, but I need a replacement sometime in the not-too-distant future). So whenever I come home for Christmas I usually end up with a little pile of stuff.

And on goes the love/hate relationship with Linux. Setting up my Cintiq is one of the things that makes me really loathe it and want to go jumping back onto my iMac and ignore the possibility of art on Linux forever. My first attempt was an abysmal fail (I blew up Unity and had to spend a bit of time fixing it and it never completely recovered, and due to the nature of the child who owned that particular machine it ended up with Win7 on it). If I didn’t need a Linux server for web dev (which is why I got the laptop) I would have just bought a MacBook.