Ready to go

We have shopped, wrapped and packed, so are off on holiday.

The Chapter Forty household is visiting family interstate for Christmas. The kids are so excited. B has made several calendars to count down the days and sleeps till we leave. B has packed and repacked his suitcase everyday and his carry on bag is waiting by the front door, ready to leave. Little Miss asks just about every hour, “Going on pink plane now?" (Everything must be pink at the moment) I don’t know what I’ll say when she see the white plane. Pink sunglasses might help. The expectation of fun is in the air. So we are primed and ready for a family adventure.

Out will go the sleep routine, out will go the good eating habits. In will come Daddy full time ("Yeah" hear us say) and in will come a Mummy answering yes a lot.

Can we go to a park? Yes
Can I have an ice-cream? Yes
Can we have pancakes for breakfast? Yes
Can I buy this thing? Yes
Can you play with me? Yes
Can I look at that? Yes
Can we have dinner at a restaurant? Yes

Well why not, isn’t that what holidays are for?


I will be back in the New Year to let you know how it all went...

Food face #3

Little Miss's happy dinner the other night got smiles all round. She’s a great eater and gobbled up the bread, cucumber, corn, carrot, red capsicum, broccoli, beans, and chicken schnitzel, in that order. Mayonnaise was also added to help it all go down.

Christmas thrills

To my dearest B,

You have been a very good little boy this year. There have been a couple of moments when I was worried, but you have got it together and done very well. Your reading, maths and writing impresses me greatly and your art work is simply outstanding. Your school report was excellent. Well done. I am so proud of you.

Since your operation you really have changed. (Was it all that ice-cream and jelly you ate?) It must be better now to hear what we are saying to you. Your teacher tells me she only has to say something once, and you do it. At night time you sleep silently and deeply. One morning this week when it was raining outside you said to me "Oh Mum I've had a beautiful sleep"... then you added," I love the music of the rain." Well put little man, there's nothing like lying in bed listening to the rain on the roof. It's so cool you appreciate things like that.

Your kindness and love for your sister is just amazing. You both might squabble over a toy, who gets to lay in the middle, whose story is first, or who has the most food, but you show Little Miss so much tenderness. I love to see you caring for her. "I want my Blakey." she often states and I know exactly how she feels.

You are extremely excited about Christmas. This year we are seeing your cousins, Uncle, Aunty and Nana. You can't wait to see them all. It's a nice surprise that you have not been at all concerned about what you are getting for Christmas, you seem to be so excited by all the fun stuff we have planned. "Too much fun," was your comment when I listed off the weeks of activities we have organised.

Seeing your face light up when Dad bought home some Christmas lights was priceless. When you nodded to Santa as he spoke to you with your very own special Christmas message over the computer, I beamed. With your excitement and pure passion you make Christmas come alive for us.

Thank you

Love from Mummy always.

PS Santa has a very worthwhile and special Christmas message tailored to anyone here

Solitary shop

Dear Solitary shopper,

While you enjoy the solitude of entering the shopping centre alone. Please spare a thought for us mothers of small children.

We do not need your looks of disapproval nor do we need your helpful rude parenting tips.

Shopping with a small child or children is very similar to the experience of unleashing hungry goats in a fruit and veg shop. It’s not going to be pretty.

I have a few rules that I abide to when going about my hunter gathering at the local supermarket.

1.    I think of this exercise as a challenge to rise too.

2.    I ensure small children are well fed prior to leaving home or have something to eat or drink from home. If I have to, I pick up something they can eat in store, strawberries or cheesy mite scrolls are good. (But its not very nice purchasing an empty package at the checkout though) Alternatively shop on food demonstration days.

3.    I use bribery, I have often said “if you are good in the supermarket you can have a treat afterwards” But the treat is only available outside the supermarket, like looking in the toy shop or getting a bubbachinno. You also have to follow through with this and not give treats if they muck up.

4.    I try to take a shopping list and remember it, not leave it in the car or loose it in my handbag and I try to only purchase what’s on it so I can…

5.    Move the trolley as fast as possible to make the shopping trip as short as possible.

6.    I don’t have any eye contact with Grannies, other mothers or lonely looking people; they only slow me down.

7.    I do allow children to sit inside the trolley. Let’s admit it, the ride is fun and it contains them in one place.

8.    I do make car and horn noises or sing the “wheels on the bus” song if necessary.

9.    I do involve the children and get them to choose, count, select, load and unpack.

10.    I try to have some come-backs to uninvited comments/parenting tips memorised. To the solitary middle aged woman who gave me looks with daggers as my 5 year old ran down the escalator then back up the wrong way a few times. I say “What are you?  The fun police.” To the solitary young man who told me to “Take a chill pill Mum.” I reply “Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”
Other responses could have been, “Get your own life – I don’t need you in mine.”
“Thanks for your advice, actually I was thinking that your shoes don’t go with that top.”
“It’s ok, today they are medicated.”
“Actually, these aren’t my kids, I am not their mother.”

Solitary shopper next time you are drawn into the performance of a child in the supermarket. Keep your mouth shut, eyes averted and focus on your own freakin shopping.

With love

a Mother.

Dancing Girl

Dear Little Miss,

This term you have started going to Theatre Bugs. A dancing, imagining and singing thing. The teacher is in a tutu and it is similar to 'Play School' alive, with tulle. You love it. You love the singing, you love the movement, you love the music and you love props. The mystery box, the magic carpet, the wiggly woos and the fairy wings are lapped up and devoured.

It is so wonderful to be taking you to something just for you. As a second child you have had to watch on the side lines for too long. B has had all the fun. I have fed you all manner of junk to keep you happy during B's swimming lessons and battled with you to contain you in the straps of the pram, for you safety and my sanity. But now, at last it is your turn.

It is like you are finally free, in an environment so suitable to you and what you love. At last I get to see your face light up, watch you concentrate, interact and assert yourself.

You dance and sing, you know the words to songs already. You have quickly picked up the hand movements and actions. You are the star of the class, in my eyes.

Theatre bugs has become the highlight of the week. Not only do you get to sing and dance with your peers and a real life fairy teacher, but your Mummy gets to as well.

But let’s not forget the bonus of the Bug’s cafe that we go to afterwards. I have my skinny latte you a bubbachinno and a play in the kid’s corner. I love going to cafés with you.

These real life tea parties are one of the best things about having a daughter. I hope we will always share these little moments of life together over a hot brew.

What a star you are in my life.

Love always Mummy

xxx

Food face #2

Prepare to get sick of these. But the kids never tire and nor does their creator. Big and little food faces are made from sausage, capsicum, cheese, cucumber, cherry tomato, lettuce, and mayonaise.

Operation

My precious B,

You have battled with multiple ear infections, sleep apnoea, caused by kissing tonsils and hearing loss. So we finally took the specialist’s advice and agreed to have your adenoids and tonsils taken out, plus grommets put in. This was a hard and harrowing decision. It took us years.

It is now day 4 after the operation.

I have cried with you and your pain. I have felt enormous guilt over what we have done to you. I wanted to be sick when I left you in the operating theatre. Your fingers had to be pulled away from mine. Leaving you alone, your life in the hands of strangers, my child, vulnerable and unconscious. I felt empty and at a loss. My heart has been broken by your silent suffering. You won’t eat, won’t drink and fight the medications. You are silent with pain.

However I have also felt relieved for your future. You can hear me know, your sleep is deep. You have made me astounded by your bravery, proud of your strength.  I have loved saying yes to you, giving you ice-cream for breakfast and jelly whenever you want it. To indulge you has become my relief.

In days you will be back to your normal tricks. And I can’t wait. This journey with you has shown me a remarkable side to you, it only makes me love you more.

Always my little man

Love Mummy xxx

Image is a self portrait by B. 

Food face #1

I have to find ways of making meals more interesting for my kids and for me to put together. This food face is made from carrot, cheese, snow pea sprouts, snow pea, cucumber, steak, corn on the cob, asparagus and  bread.

Big boy little bugs

Dearest B,

What on earth is going on? You have developed a major fear of bugs. I am having a lot of trouble sympathising with this fear. I know it doesn’t help the situation that the warm weather has meant ants have moved into the kitchen. And it also probably doesn’t help that there are multiple varieties of ant to contend with. We have the regular black ant, searching relentlessly over kitchen surfaces for any sweet abandoned crumb.  Plus we also have little native sugar ants that immediately gather on the dining room floor around a morsel of dropped food. We are alerted to their presence by the brown mass that gathers about the morsel to feast. They really are tiny little beings that are not interested at all in your toes. In the garden we have inch ants, that really are better to avoid, but just want to go about their own business.

We keep the bathroom light on at night so we also have a few moths gathering there. I know that something happened a long time ago at child care between you and a moth.  I never really got to the bottom of that story, so I suppose I can find a bit of sympathy for you. But flies, my dear child, flies are here to stay, this is Australia. I know they are dirty, but seriously what do you think a fly is going to do to you? You had better get used to them. Learn the ‘Shoo fly’ song and do the Aussie salute (wave your hand about) to move the flies on.

We have tried to personalise the large huntsmen spiders that house share with us by calling them Gavin, and I do totally understand that they are a little creepy. I was also totally freaked out by that black spider that was on Little Miss’s head the other day. It was met a swift brush to the floor from my hand and a loud stomp from my shoe. But you have to admit it was very funny that she thought the spider was her friend. (Charlie and Lola have got a lot of explaining to do.)

 





But what I really don’t understand is that yesterday you were happily following a big bluetongue lizard about your school playground. Surely that is more frightening than some small insects?

Were you fearless with the lizard because you were with your play mates? Whereas your insect encounters see you alone and vulnerable, doing your business in the bathroom, engrossed while drawing at the dinning room table, eating alone at the kitchen bench.

I am at a loss on how to get you through this time, all I keep saying is to look at the size of you compared to the size of the bug. You do have an advantage. It might be time to face some fears and learn to live with some insects, as your little fears are really starting to bug me.

Love from Mummy

xxx

Praise

Jekyll and Hyde girl

Dear Little Miss,

Now you are 2 your personality is really starting to take shape as you assert yourself around the house. You are a wonderful mother's little helper as I have noticed things being tidied away. The toothbrushes that are brought out to the living room most mornings to get the teeth clean (as that’s easier than getting the teeth to the bathroom) are neatly placed back by the sink. I have had to do a double take, thinking how did they get there? The shoes that get thrown off at the end of the day, are neatly lined up along the wall.

You like nothing better than putting the right DVD back in its case and putting it in the draw where they all belong. You have taken it upon yourself to unpack B’s lunch box after school and return the freezie block to the freezer, rubbish to the bin and lunchbox into the kitchen sink. What a helper you are to have around the house.

However there is another side to your personality that we are getting to know that does concern me. Thankfully this side only shows itself occasionally. Let me introduce the NO side, as your answer to every question I ask you is NO. 

Little Miss its breakfast time.
No

Do you want some toast?
No

Do you want a crumpet?
No

Do you want a banana?
No

Do you want some rock melon?
No

Do you want some strawberries?
No

And then because I want to test you I ask,
Do you want some chocolate?
No

Oh really?? I think, so this isn’t about food, this is about you having some control over your little life, because then you say

Chocolate….

A variation on the No theme is I’m not.

Little Miss eat your breakfast
I’m not.

Little Miss don’t take the washing off the line please
I’m not.

We also hear, I’ll do it
Lets put your shoes on
I’ll do it

Let’s brush your teeth
I’ll do it

Lets get you ready for the bath
I’ll do it

It is amazing to watch you learn your own mind, as well as test the minds of those around you.

I love every side of you.

From Mummy

xxx

Zombie Chicken Award

Wow! How flattering that a fellow blogger would brave a pack of zombie chickens to read this blog. Thank you so much 40notout, I feel honoured.













“The blogger who receives this award believes in the Tao of the zombie chicken – excellence, grace and persistence in all situations, even in the midst of a zombie apocalypse. These amazing bloggers regularly produce content so remarkable that their readers would brave a raving pack of zombie chickens just to be able to read their inspiring words. As a recipient of this world-renowned award, you now have the task of passing it on to at least 5 other worthy bloggers. Do not risk the wrath of the zombie chickens by choosing unwisely or not choosing at all.”


Just so the zombies don't get me I pass this award onto-

Old egg 
For your amazing words, I am really proud of you.

Blakeseven 
Because you are so talented and creative, are we related?

Peggy
You always have something amazing, wise and inspiring to say.

Wrightstuff
The volume of work you produce is awesome.

HybridJ
To let you know we are thinking of you.

Bubbles

I confess, I really look forward to the kids bath time. It marks the beginning of the close of the day for this weary mother. The grime and grot of the day is washed away along with any unpleasantness experienced during the day. The bath tends to change the mood of everyone. Negative ions in the air from the H2O? Maybe, if that's true

I am lucky that B and Little Miss have always loved baths. It will gross them out later in life to know that myself or their Dad often climbs into the tub too. I remember with a big smile on my face the times B and I had regular night time baths when I was heavily pregnant with Little Miss. The bath was just the best place for my achey uncomfortable cumbersome body. B loved to play with various boats, ducks and other floating objects that took refuge on the big baby island.

Speaking of floating objects I have to mention some really disturbing incidences we have had to deal with as parents. And I know that most parents out there would have some experiences that are similar. Recently B got into a nice warm bath only to exclaim, "There's POO in the bath and it isn't mine." 

Sadly for B there was no one else in the bath to take responsibility for the tiny pieces of poo floating around. A lesson for B learnt on the benefits of wiping your bottom properly.

Little Miss is also guilty of pooing during wash time, only her natural accident happened while showering with B. The smell had them out of there in record time. But not until the poo was properly examined and poked. 

At least no one has even eaten poo in this house (as far as I know) yet.

Apologies children, for the embarrassment I  may cause you when you can read this. Hopefully one day you will understand and forgive me.

Growing up

 
Little children are completely loyal to their parents.

To become an adult I have gone through a period of rejecting my parents, feeling disgruntled with them, confronting them, forgiving them for being human and not the superhuman parents of that childhood, to getting to know them again as people, to absolutely loving them as amazing friends I really need in my life.

It’s been a circle of change and growth. Of my growing up. Ending back at a similar point we left off, but much better.

It wasn’t easy and it hurt.

At some point we have to let go and fledge the nest. If we want to be (and raise) confident capable people shouldn't we embrace this act of growing up? Traditional tribes, religious and indigenous peoples have held onto long traditions of initiation into adulthood. For good reasons.

A ceremony to mark the change from child to adult ensures the person is valued as part of its family and wider community. It helps build the confidence of the child, as they have to pass the initiation test in whatever form it is. A ceremony can be looked forward to, planned, talked about, it becomes a landmark in the child's life, bringing together the family in a common goal and focus. 

The Indigenous Australians have many ceremonies including the Mandiwala initiation for boys. The Orthodox Jews have Bar Mitzvah for boys and Bat Mitzvahs for girls. Practicing Christians have Baptism or Confirmation. Many African tribes initiate their young into adulthood by circumcising them.

But for us we don’t practice a religion or have cultural traditions. So I intend to introduce an initiation ceremony into adulthood for my children. I want them to know they are really valued, that it’s a special time in their lives. I want to foster their self confidence so they go forward in life knowing they are capable people.

We had a little practice run last summer.

In the summer school holidays before B started school we thought he should go through a little ceremony to turn into a big school boy, and not a little kid anymore. We pitched a two man tent in the garden and said that to be a real big boy he needed to sleep out in the tent all night. (Dad would join him later) He would have to go to sleep by himself out there. The tent was pitched less than 3 metres from the door to the house. He was excited and very keen to help make up the tent. We made his bed and put some favourite toys in there too. We also made up Daddy's bed in there so he would be reassured that Dad was coming later.

He loved it. Of course there were a few anxious moments after story time, and he came inside a few times to get a drink, an apple and another cuddle, but I am very proud to say he did it. There is nothing like seeing your child be proud of themselves. Well done B you are an amazing big school boy.

I don’t know what we will do to mark the teen hood and adulthood of our children. Some might argue the traditions we have in place like getting a drivers license, completing year 12/HSC, starting your first job or moving out of home could mark this coming of age and they do.

However, I wish to do more than that and mark growing up with a special celebration and ceremony. I would like the ceremony to involve their community in some way, with special roles for special people in their lives. But I am not sure what. I would like to start talking to them about it soon, to build it up.

Any ideas or suggestions would be welcomed - any amusing ones?

Forced Spring Clean

I'm not sure what we've done. I know it’s not really bad in the big BIG scheme of things. But for whatever reason, (karma perhaps) this household has been forced into a spring clean.

1- The dead rat smell in the living room is now unbearable. It's not coming from the couch, we took it apart last night, cleaned out the crumbs, gave it a good wipe over then even went so far as to rip off the lining underneath to inspect inside. Found nothing, except how a couch is made. The pong is also not coming from the rug, it was covered in bi carbonate of soda and moved into another room. The smell isn't from a spill on the floor, its been thoroughly mopped. Twice. The offensive odor is not from the kids play kitchen. All the plastic play food has been washed in the dishwasher and wooden things by hand. The little oven, dishwasher, fridge and hotplates have also had a once over with disinfectant. Many empty play food boxes have been binned. The smell isn’t coming from a cavity wall. A wall panel has been carefully removed and inspected. The smell might be coming from under the deck. OH BUM... 

But that’s not all... 

2- We woke up this morning to find water dripping from a light fitting in the living room. Removing the light fitting and shinning a torch into the ceiling revealed the water source. A box gutter - probably. It rained and dripped into a plastic bucket all day. D got home from a day in the office to clear out the gutters. Will this solve the leak? Only the rain will help us find that out.

3- In the last two days I have broken three items into tiny pieces. It has been months since anything has hit the floor in this house. I broke a glass, no real big deal there. A lime green bowl, annoying as its a set of four but thats life, and a huge black floor vase. OK that sucks. My eyes are fine and I am not on any medication.   

Out came the dust pan and brush yet again.

Supermarket

Dear Little Miss, 

It would seem you are ready to embrace a task people all over the world grapple with, the weekly (or if we are really honest) twice weekly visit to the supermarket. You love it, relish it even, and want it. As you are strapped into your car seat you often raise the question, “Supermarket?" Sadly my answer is all too often, "Yes".

And why wouldn't you like it? Happily you ride the crazy trolley-coaster, bumping and swinging around. Your are fed all kinds of made to measure exotic treats, smiling meat slices, cubes of cheese, mini toasts, and little cups of yogurt.  

A kaleidoscope of colour rushes past, you spot the teaser toys hanging just at the right height for you to touch and exclaim, "I want that."

Old ladies "Goo and Gaa" at you, even old men have pulled faces and tried to win your attention. But it seems the real attraction is the other babies on parade. Toddlers your own size are starred at and assessed. "Baby" you exclaim as another 2 year old trundles past. You both stare at each other and weigh up your spoils. 

Us mothers sigh and search for the fun of it all. Smiles of acknowledgement are passed between us. The choice overwhelms us, the tediousness of hunting down prepackage goodness, collecting up the same foods every week. I try a new supermarket in a neighbouring suburb "just for fun." We go to farmers markets, experience freshness and shop by my conscious.

I am glad you are happy to venture into the world of the Supermarket my little Miss. I am learning to love the art of it too.

Love always from Mummy
xxx

Sick

Gee kids what can I say?

Sorry might be a start, it wasn’t the best day.

But people get sick. It happened to your Mum.

Our plans for the day lay in tatters, I could not run.

Your teeth didn’t get brushed, nor did your hair.

You did nothing but watch TV, sat on a chair.

You wore your pajamas all day with only toast to eat.

You didn’t care that your faces were dirty, or that the dishes weren’t neat.

You didn’t notice the clothes on the floor.

But you noticed me, as I felt poor.

Little Miss so gentle, with a loving pat.

B, you lay with me down on the mat.

You were brave and strong taking care of me.

But that’s wrong, not the way it should be.

Dad came to the rescue as soon as he could.

It was just one day, I am better now, so it’s all good.

Scribbles

As a family of frustrated artists we love The Scribble Book by Herve Tullet.
On this scribbily journey you will learn to draw. What initially is a scribble (did you know a scribble could be lonely) turns into hair, spaghetti, smoke, trees, flowers, snails, fish and even emotions....

However please note that we have had to overcome that inner deep seeded rule/fear to not draw in books to enjoy this. It is so much better than a regular colouring-in-book.

Don't ever be confined by lines!

Available from Amazon

Thank you lego

Dearest B,
 
It's school holiday time again and I have to say I am pretty chilled out about it. Ok your Dad is taking some leave which helps and you have a birthday party to go to and a day in out of school hours care, where you will visit the zoo with some buddies from your class. And yes I know its only really day 1 of the holidays so the chill factor might disappear....






However I have realised you are really enjoying being at home. This is mainly because of lego. You love the stuff. Right now you are taking photos of the things you have made. With the help of your finders, (your Mum and Dad) you have made from scratch a great fire boat. You have followed the instructions with great care. I have heard you counting and saying, "I need a twelver, can you help me find a twelver?"
 
I am really proud of you, you have made it all by yourself.

You even had Little Miss looking for things, but I am not sure if she really helped. You have learnt to place your carefully made pieces up on the kitchen bench out of her reach as she absolutely delights in your treasures.

Well done my little man. 

Let’s have some great times these school holidays.

Love from Mummy
xxx

Hidden fear

Dear Children, 

I am writing this to express how lucky I feel to have you in my life. Just this week you have both forced me to be stronger and braver than I thought I could. You are enabling me to grow as a person and face my fears. Grow up and take hold of my responsibilities - With both hands and a smile.

Ever since the tree of life incident I am more than a little nervous around storms with strong winds. Thunder and lightning don’t really bother me it’s the wind. This is a new and fresh fear, resulting from witnessing a massive gum tree destroy a neighbours house. I know the likelihood of seeing this kind of thing happen again is remote. However as MY eyes have seen it, I know it can happen. My brain has now made a connection with extremely windy days and trees falling down. The image of it happening replays in my mind when the wind picks up. No rational logical thoughts can stop it.

Post traumatic stress - probably, but no one likes to admit they are not doing so well in the head.....

I am embarrassed to say that a really windy day this week had me a little fretful. You were at school B having sport inside a class room because of the rain. And Little Miss you were having your day time nap. I found I was coping fine with the wind situation up till that point.

With Little Miss asleep and not by my side, I didn’t have to put on the brave front anymore. I was alone and my fear got the better of me. My breathing increased. I felt a rush of blood to my head. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Was this a panic attack?

I got the help I needed over the phone from your Auntie. She told me to take some deep breathes, make a strong cup of tea and sit somewhere that I felt safe. She got the facts about the storm from the weather bureau reassuring me that the worst was over. She also made me laugh, something that I love to do with her. The fear passed. She helped me through it.

Little Miss you woke up at your usual time announcing that it was "Pick up brother time.”  Unfortunately my sister was either misinformed or lying (something she is really good at) as the storm seemed to be peaking just as we had to go out and collect B from school.

My hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the wipers were on full. Sheets of rain whipped at the car. I took deep breathes and concentrated on getting us to school. Glancing back at Little Miss, you seemed totally unaware of the situation. This relaxed me so much. Your naive outlook simply made you state "Rain". I got so much help from that. The last thing I wanted to do was infect you with my own fear.

I parked away from the tall gum trees that seemed to be bending and teasing me with their flexibility. The sound of falling gum nuts on car roofs reminded me of cracking wood. I moved fast, focusing on getting us to the class room. The umbrella seemed pointless. Little Miss, you wiggled on my hip as I attempted to run. I couldn't speak.

The parents waited, huddled together. There was small talk about the timing of the weather. I failed to join in.

Once you were in the car with us B, the rain only got worse for the return journey. We were all wet and a damp smell lingered. Wet trouser pants went cold on our legs. You complained B. I asked you to be quiet so I could concentrate on driving and you both understood.

I tried so very hard not to show you how scared I was. I so desperately wanted to be at home, inside. But the traffic crawled. It was dim. The car fogged up. Sheets of rain now hammered the car. A bright flash electrified the sky. A great metallic sound boomed around us.

"Thunder is the sound of God moving furniture around in heaven." B stated.

This made me smile. Fear hidden.

Thank you

Love from Mummy

xxx

Froggy

Dear Little Miss,

I don’t know what to do? I think I have made a big mistake. To get you and B to eat up all your dinner I have inadvertently caused a big problem. The bribes that I have used, are it seems, not the right thing to do at all. The treats that have been given when clean plates are presented to me at the end of a meal are wrong, very wrong. 

I became aware of this problem when I heard other mothers talking about plates of fruit at the end of the meal. Gosh I thought, that sounds fantastic, but you and B wouldn't have it. No. The treat boxes must appear. Boxes of goodies. A box each with a choice inside. B prefers the boiled hard sugar lolly type treat. These are small, and I tell myself and he works hard for it. Many a piece of green veg has disappeared without any fuss, because of that treat box. 

But Little Miss you are a different kettle of fish. At two, I know you know what's going on, but you like to test the water anyway, just to see. To see if I am made of the tough Mum stuff or the soft Mum stuff.

Your defiance not to eat your meal had to be met with,
"No treat for you."

The stand off lasted 30 minutes. The crying and screaming was tremendous. But I am proud that I stood my ground. Tough Mum was determined. The treat box rules where not broken. To get a treat you must eat your dinner. 

The tantrum reached its peak when B received his treat box. We tried not to rub it in your face and he was allowed to eat his lolly on the couch. But you kept pushing your plate away. I would repeat my words over and over again returning your plate to you.


 
"To get a treat you need to eat your dinner."
"Chocolate foggy" you would say with tears.
"Yes, when you eat your dinner."
 
I waivered and nearly gave in, not sure if the concept was just too much for your two year old brain. Soft Mum tried to make a stand.

Did you really understand?

Dad was called in for back-up. Unfortunately we lost more time when there was a few accusations about giving in that we apparently had to discuss, but as a united front we succeeded. 

Once Daddy told you the same message you knew there was no other options or ways about getting a chocolate foggy.

So you got to it and ate your dinner.

There was much praise and relief that night.
 
I was very proud of you, that you understood what you had to do. I was proud of your Dad and I, we stood our ground and enforced the rule. United in our mission we all reached our goal.

"There's a chocolate foggy in my Tummy," you stated once the frog was consumed. 

But on reflection this is all so wrong. Why do I have this monkey on my back now? The wars of the treat box seem to have really been won by the children, because the treats are there for them.

The Treat box will have to get a bit boring. Fruit based treats might creep in and take over the sugar supremacy. My guilt about feeding a two year old chocolate could get me shopping for carob - of all the things. 

At the end of the day I have to weigh up the benefits of a green bean (happy mother) against the damage of a chocolate frog (happy child).

Love from your confused Mother
xxx

The WANT monster

Is it human nature to always want more than you've got? 

I dont need anything, yet I have to continually tell myself to be happy with what I've got. 

I remind myself often that I've got more than I need and I don't actually need anything. It's all wants not needs. But lets face it, my needs are met as well.

So why do I want more?

B wants more and more toys, he's already got too many.

His Dad wants more books, he also has way too many.

Little Miss wants more and more cuddles, well that's ok I've got plenty to give her, but she also wants chocolate frogs to eat all the time.

And I want more garden, something that requires moving. None of us want to move house.

So I go on wanting and trying to curb the want. I think about why it's good to have a small garden.

A small garden can make a big visual impact.

They are easy to maintain, I'm not spending lots of time in the garden (even though that's what I want to be doing).

A small garden feels more private and intimate.

Water isn't wasted on a small garden.

The kids are only little and really don't need to run around on acreage.

All the houses in this area have small gardens, that's what you have to compromise on when you live walking distance to a city.

A small garden cannot be a home for a pet dog (do I really want to lose that excuse and have a dog to look after - no I don't).

I have to be happy and contented with what I have, and I thought I was getting close. I had stopped continually looking on realestate.com.au for another house with a bigger garden. Only a few days ago I heard myself think how much I love living here. So what changed?

I visited a friend with the most amazing huge garden.

The problem is that I know bigger gardens are out there.

It exists, therefore I want it.

So the only reason I want a bigger garden is because other people have them.

B only wants more toys because the toys are in the shops waiting.

Little Miss only wants more cuddles because..well... she needs them... and so do I.. so thats ok....


but the chocolate frogs are in the cupboard, there to be eaten.

Their Dad only wants more books because Amazon keeps suggesting them to him.

Maybe ignorance really is bliss. The want monster wont be able to get you if you don't know what to want.

Image by Fernandez

 




Note:
To try and help my wants and wanting I have started another blog titled The Want Monster. I am posting all the things I want on it. There are things like accessories and swimming pools as well as emotional things like wanting to be a supermum. Basically its just a record of what I want.

Currency

What's your currency?





















 


Unlike a country, B's currency changes. As his mother it is my job to keep up to date with this currency otherwise I may as well be the sofa. I need to know what his latest 'thing' is to use in the complicated negotiations required to get him to do what I want him to do.

Leading up to Christmas during November and December, Santa's name gets dropped a lot. An elaborate story has been developed about how all parents know the phone number to Santa and his helper elves. This story is well told in our house and is used to remind B that unless he is good, we will make the call and cancel all his Christmas presents. (Pretty nasty really, but it works)

Other currencies have been special up and coming activities, last month there was a school disco that enabled me to keep B from taking his shoes off in the playground, treat his little sister with more respect, eat various green things and sit down for 10 minutes in a cafe.

Right now he loves playing iPhone games. We have tried not to encourage computing gaming in our house, mainly because of the violence. But there comes a time when A) you just give in, B) you start to think they need some exposure to technology and C) you want to play them too. So the iPhone game Enigmo is now the thing.

He loves it and wants to play it all the time. And it is actually a pretty cool game. You have to get water from one vessel into another by using all kinds of contraptions. So at least he is problem solving, and he is building his confidence as he succeeds and gets to try a new level.

But the best thing is that right now he is having a day time sleep (Major Miracle) just to get some more time playing.

Here is a review/demo of Enigmo if your interested.





But what will the currency be next week?


Images Poeten Sofa by Finn Juhl from Retro to go and Enigmo on the iPhone from Apple.

Secret language

There is a secret language happening right under our feet.

These images were taken in and around Port Adelaide. I love the randomness and the mystery of the symbols. There is a reference to an underground world. The colour palette is restrained. Secret street art born from underground goings on.

View Larger Map

Rules

Isn't life hard enough?




















I came across this trolley's set of rules at a brand spanking new supermarket. It didn't make me cross, in fact it made me laugh out loud as I thought of the BBC TV series The Vicar of Dibley.

One of the most lovable character's Jim Trott, answers every question he is asked in exactly this way.

"No no no no...yes"



Interestingly it usually works out well for him.

Is he now involved with the Foodland supermarket chain? Could the trolley manufacturers have missed every episode and multiple series of the Vicar of Dibley and not noticed any similarities?

Are they just trying to make us mums laugh?

Or is it just boring butt covering rules for use that no one apart from a legal head thought about?

Well at least it made me laugh and became some blog fodder.

Dad

Dear Dad,
Happy Father's Day (you didn't think I could go past father's day on my blog did you??) No need to be grumpy or worried.

I just want to say thank you.

Thanks for always being kind, always being consistent and always being loving

Thanks for accepting me for who I am (eventually)
 


Thanks for all the tickles
  
Thanks for the amazing stamp collection (every Australian stamp issued from 1966-1985)

Thanks for always treating me with total respect

Thanks for letting me know when I had gone too far

Thanks for finding amusement when it needed to be found

Thanks for being an honest critic

Thanks for passing on the drawing gene

Thanks for being the best Bumper ever (the kids love and adore you)

Thanks for surprising me with answers I didn't expect

Thanks for beating me at cards

Thanks for being my Dad - I love you.

With love from your daughter

xxx

All the feeling which my father could not put into words was in his hands - any dog, child or horse would recognise the kindness of it
- Freya Stark


To her the name of father was another name for love
- Fanny Fern

You will always be your child's favourite toy
- Vicky Lansky

Quotes from 'Father love' by PQ Blackwell



















Image from my wedding day, a special moment with Dad.

MeMe Award

I am very chuffed to receive the MeMe Award from Hybrid J. Thank you very much.


This award comes with RULES which are to:

1) Share 7 tidbits about yourself

2) Share the MeMe blog award with 7 blogger friends

I think this is a little bit "Chain Letterish" so I would like to make Rule 2 optional for my awardees. (Apologies to the maker of the MeMe award.)

Here are my 7 tidbits:

1) I am addicted to playing Wii Tennis.

To think we had the Wii for months before we got around to plugging it in, all that wasted time. I love to play, its warmed me up on many a cold night. I have finally achieved 'professional' tennis status, however it's been at a cost, as sadly no family members will play with me anymore.

2) During June and July (my winter) I didn't shave my underarm hair once, and I liked it.

I am not sure what prompted this. Laziness most likely, but it seemed like a good idea to really get to know myself. And as I had never let the hair grow much before, I thought it was about time. Some of you will be grossed out others will think nothing of it. It was interesting and I will probably do it again.

3) The smell of the sea makes me relax.

If you have ever been jealous of people with a beach house, its worthwhile jealously. We are very lucky to have a retreat near the sea to go to. Each and every time we go there we all relax, especially the husband. As soon as I get a snifter of that salty air my shoulders drop and I let go. We love it in summer, swimming, boogie boarding, BBQs, long days, sand in between the toes, sunsets, heat, the smell of sunscreen, G&T, cold beer, light cotton clothes. And we love it in winter, the sound of rain on the roof, the energy of wind, cosy inside, blankets on the beds, coats and hats, fresh cold air, all eating toast and jam in bed together, crashing waves with white horses racing, a seaweeded beach. Whatever time of year it's all good.

4) A long time ago I went to art school

I was 18 and I liked to draw and take photos. Apparently I was good enough to get in. When I used to draw it was like meditation. Total focus and concentration no intrusive thoughts and an image at the end of it. I hate that I can't fit it into my life presently, I will come back to it one day. Writing is my creative outlet now. When I haven't had a creative outlet, my life has been very miserable and not really working for me.

5) I can make really good monkey noises

It's a great claim to fame, isn't it? The kids love it, others hate it, particularly my brother (because he thinks I am teasing him for looking like a monkey) In the Adelaide botanic gardens my sister and I had a lot of fun making monkey noises in a tropical jungle area. More than a few passers by were intrigued.

6) Not only are the books in my house arranged by colour my clothes are too.

This is not because I am a well organised anal personality, far from it. It is because I try very hard NOT to wear black everyday. I like wearing black, it looks better and I cant go past that, however I find it depressing. Organising my clothes by colour reminds me of all the other options that are better for me. And it sometimes works.

7) Even though I can't, I would love to wear high heeled shoes.

I think high heeled shoes are beautiful and sexy. They look great, as that is what they are designed for. However in my opinion they are not designed for walking in, just looking at. I can't wear them as my feet are not in the best shape anymore. Sadly I buy shoes that are comfortable without being Grandma 's shoes. Some of you who know me will not agree and will think my shoes are Grandma's, but at the end of the day I am not in pain. And that is important to me.


I am really glad to receive this award. I have now drawn an image of me as a hairy tennis playing monkey, wearing grandma's shoes who sorts clothes after a visit to the beach. Perfect.













And my 7 winners (Who may have received this award before, but I give it with no obligations) are:

Peggy
Because you always have something sensible to say

Roban
For bringing tears to my eyes

The Thrifts
For trying to do a very honourable thing with honesty which is also highly amusing

We make words
Because of your originality and creativity with words

Ladybird Lane
To say thank you for B and Little Miss's Christmas Stockings, you are way too clever with a needle.

Red Robin Land
For capturing beautiful moments

Jezrael
For your advice and help. Thank you

Flight of the child

"Mum, I want to fly."

When B said this to me a few days ago, it was like a light had gone on in his head. He truly thought he could and should be able to fly. He had a glint in his eye, he was ready for an adventure. Oh, the innocence of not knowing any better.















I wanted to strap on some wings take him up to the roof and show him how. I felt disappointment in the hard reality of what I said to him. I thought of Leonardo and all those contraptions he invented, I thought of all the boys before him, all wanting the joy and freedom of flight.

I wish I had said something about flying at night in your sleep at dream time. (This is one of my favourite dreams, particularly when you know you are dreaming) I wish I had talked about birds gliding on the wind or even about swimming. With weekly lessons B has learnt this skill, and he could try thinking about flight while swimming underwater. I love swimming underwater, that feeling of weightlessness, surely that is close to the feeling of flying?

Instead though, I told him that he would have to wait till his next plane trip, as that is the only way we humans really fly. I did mention hang-gliding, but that was the story of a someone my parents know who had a terrible accident. His Dad then made the comment that he would never be allowed to hang-glide.

















So all this talk shut down his adventure, closed the door on his dream, wiped out the glint in his eye and taught him to stop imagining. I can see very clearly now that over the course of childhood this happens to all of our imaginations and our creativity. We are forced to loose that childhood wonder, through the harsh reality of "what is". As a parent I have rarely had conversations about "what could be".

I am so sorry B! That is the very last thing I wanted to do.

Leonardo never ever stopped imagining.

Go flying my little boy.
















Images: Flying into Nadi Fiji, Very happy B on Seaplane, One of Leonardo da Vinci's Flying Machines