This week’s books have all been more of the Christmas books. And I am very happy about this.
E has been having lots of Bob Bilby, and The Very Noisy Baby. C is also loving hearing these books. Whenever we get to the page in Bob Bilby with the fireworks, C’s face lights up and, every time, she says ‘just like the fireworks WE saw!’ (It helps that we live in Brisbane just like Bluey and Bingo.) C is loving lifting the flaps in the Noisy Baby and reading the bonus bits, like ‘the OWL! So speck-eld and BLUE!’
C herself has insisted on a bonus story once she is in bed every night. I say in bed but I really mean, I’ve told her to get into bed and she has done a token sit down before saying ‘ooh, mummy, please may I have a Horton story please?’ Or ‘here mummy I’ll just turn the lamp on for you so you can read me Mrs Tiggy-winkle.’ Oh. Ok… We have read each of them enough now that she has her favourite lines that she delights in every time. Personally I am absolutely loving reading Mrs. Tiggy-winkle. I loved all of the Beatrix Potter stories when I was little and revisiting them brings such great pleasure.
How goodnight has changed over the years. A Facebook memory recently showed me what it was, when C was about 15 months. Our music class had shown us that songs are a useful transition tool, so ‘teddy bear, teddy bear’ was our ‘we are going to bed now and bed is where you sleep’ song. C does the actions just after the lines in the song, except at the end when, just before the last line, she takes off down the hallway with a cackling mischievous laugh.
Before I had children, I imagined bedtime to be a hopefully calm affair of dinner together and baths (together for young children) and bedtime stories and teeth cleaning and into bed and, magic, asleep. Laughable, I know, and also not really based on my own experience growing up with 3 brothers, but there you go. I had lofty ideas.
The reality right now is quite different. Coordinating dinners and baths and stories is quite a task, one that often leaves me wondering just how on earth do parents of 3 or more children manage it? Especially if one parent works late? And this is constantly changing according to how well E’s lunch nap has gone (and how hot it is and if she is teething like she is now).
But, a goodnight with daddy is holding fast and it is something that I absolutely love and treasure and will be so sad when they don’t happen anymore.
Goodnight with daddy has influenced how C says goodnight to E and, every time, it melts my heart. Sometimes when I ask her to say goodnight all E gets is a distracted ‘goodnight E…’ but usually C sings, just like daddy does. And it’s usually the tune of the Brahms lullaby, just like daddy does. And it’s usually different words, all relating to sleep, just like daddy does. And it often has one line at the end that just keeps going and going with all the instructions for a good sleep and the melody turns into a monotone and then, when you think it’s over, there’s a bonus phrase… And then there’s a kiss and cuddle that is growing to be more successful as E learns to put her arms around C instead of just pulling her hair, and not to kick her legs with overwhelming excitement, and sometimes even to hold her round cheek close enough and long enough for C to give her a little kiss.
Goodnight with daddy for E is the Brahms lullaby, with words approximately ‘go to sleep, go to sleep, go to sleep little baby, go to sleep now, go to sleep, and dream about green sheep’ and further words regarding sleeping and dreaming and catching the green sheep. (Yes, we love the Mem Fox book.) She is held up high and she often squeak-laughs and always has a smile splitting her face with delight
Goodnight with daddy for C is ‘rockabye baby’ so is often referred to as ‘time for a rockabye with daddy’. Glenn will pick her up and cradle her – all 105cm – and she puts her arms around his neck as he sings. His variations: ‘when the bough breaks, the cradle will fall – NO!’ And he holds her tight. ‘And down will come baby’ – and then all sorts of different things come in as well, influenced by what she’s been playing with or watching or eating or wearing that day, or looking forward to for the next day. ‘Down will come baby, spaghetti, sauce, Baby Yoda, scooter, baby and all’. He gives her a goodnight kiss, she wraps her hand around his neck and gives him a big smacker of a goodnight kiss, then asks to be chased down the hallway to her bedroom.
I know this won’t last, and as tough as all this coordination is and night after night when it feels like we won’t ever have two children asleep at the same time and the frustration when one of them needs me to be with them for an hour or more, I know I will miss it. Thank goodness for that video on Facebook, reminding me just how funny and cheeky C was and is, helping me look back on that time with a smile instead of just remembering the frustration of having a child who never, it felt, slept.
We had a wonderfully bookish Christmas. When C was a baby, I learned of the Icelandic tradition of giving books on Christmas Eve so you get to read books all night. This was (I think) the first tradition that I introduced to our family that was from somewhere else. The night before Christmas Eve, the book fairy comes and leaves books for you to find in the morning. This year, C received ‘Where’s Bluey?’ (a hide and seek book!) and ‘The Painted Ponies’ by Alison Lester. E received ‘Hairy Maclary’s Hat Tricks’ (Lynley Dodd) and ‘The Very Noisy Baby’ (Alison Lester).
C was set on giving E the Bob Bilby book from Bluey for Christmas (partly because it’s a board book, and partly – I suspect – because C loves this story herself), and E also received Verandah Santa (another Bluey book) from some cousins. Both girls were given a Beatrix Potter book, The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle, and a book of three Horton stories by Dr. Seuss, by Uncle Alex and Aunty Alys.
Adding to this the ‘book from Santa’ (The River Riddle, daycare Christmas present), and there has been a delightful expansion of reading repertoire in our family. C will happily look for all of the things in the Bluey hide and seek book when we need her to do something quiet. One of my favourite moments recently was, having just read both girls Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle and then starting the nap process with E, spotting C in her fluffy tutu dress, carefully ‘reading’ it to her toys on her bed.
Our very own very noisy baby is rather enthusiastic in lifting the flaps of the very noisy baby book. She’s not so much into the longer, wordier stories just yet, but Bob Bilby is receiving daily attention. Extra delight with this one right now is that it has fireworks – just like we saw on New Year’s Eve. Ooooohhhhh….. Oh, and C won’t go to sleep unless I read her a Horton story in her bedroom. She snuggles up and gets rather sleepy until we get to a bit that she just can’t help laughing at and then when she’s recovered we keep going and she gets sleepier and sleepier and when it’s done she is far more ready for sleep. Books are wonderful.
This year has had it all. Some was expected, some not. And some aspects (yes, I’m talking about the pandemic here) that we hoped would be over just kept coming back in different forms.
Here is our 2021 in numbers, result compared to expectation.
Most exciting: new baby (1/1). The best.
Most horrible: accident with new baby. Never expected. One horrible accident, and one that turned out to be not so bad but was still nerve-wracking when it happened. (2/0).
Concerts: (3/? Thanks to COVID we never knew what to expect). 3, that is, that I was brave enough to attend with the girls (Glenn has performed more than that). Each has been a learning experience and I feel tonight’s NYE Pops concert I did the best. Naps, food, sleep, all worked out fairly well. Anxiety level for me was very very high but I’m so glad we went. And both girls behaved beautifully.
New appliances: ooh there were so many. It was really the year of the new. We knew we would be buying a new mattress – the old one had deep troughs on either side from years of use (and, let’s face it, pregnancy). We were not expecting to replace the toaster, kettle, microwave, vacuum cleaner battery, printer, laptop, or fridge. (So, numbers… how many is that, 8? 8/1.) It has been an expensive year. I would like it to stop now.
Sickness: there has been some, of course – hello daycare. There was the Gastro Experience of September. There has been the No It’s Not Covid Cough of December. There have been other sniffles that have gone away after a week of resting at home, just like doctors and mothers say they will. Amazing.
And then there are the things of life that cannot be numbered. The joy in seeing each girl grow to be more themselves every day. The frustration of adult-young child communication. The immense delight seeing the love between our girls, and between all of us. The worry – oh the worry. Worries. When C is ‘just a bit nervous’ going to daycare. When E doesn’t reach a milestone as early as C did. When there’s a lockdown due to a cluster of Covid cases in our area. When I can’t give either girl the attention she needs. When C doesn’t pick up small objects or sharp objects and doesn’t understand the danger they pose to E.
This year has certainly held surprises. Some delightful, some not. Some scary, some not. I feel we’ve handled it the best we could and have definitely grown through all these experiences. Like everyone, I am hoping for more of the good stuff next year, and less of the not-so-nice surprises. Please and thank you.
Now that it is the fifth day of Christmas… I finally have a moment to write about the Christmas that was Christmas 2021.
There is always such hope surrounding Christmas. Hope for good things in the world, for blessings for those we love, for peace and joy and love to prevail. Hope for the things that we care about, that make our Christmases what we want them to be, to be able to happen. The food, the decorations, the excitement, the surprises.
This Christmas I was hoping to do so much for Glenn and the girls, and for my parents and Glenn’s dad and his family in Ireland. I had hopes for Christmas crafts, decorations throughout our home, a clean and tidy and organised place, Christmas baking. I planned to crochet a rug for E. Sew her a stuffed toy. Sew a stuffed toy for C. Make ornaments from clay and paper. Make thoughtful presents for C’s daycare teachers.
Buuuuut kids. 2022 Me needs to remember a few things. Learn from the experience of 2021 Me.
Just because you have a 3-year-old who LOVES craft and LOVES Christmas, doesn’t mean she will ‘be in the zone for that’ when you have opportunity to do things. Your visions of Pinterest-worthy garlands and wreaths and teacher gifts and decorations may well remain visions. The paddle-pop stick with cotton wool balls and pipe cleaners and googly eyes that you made into a snowman might, however, become a treasured toy. Go figure.
Just because you suddenly have both girls in daycare for a couple of days a week in the lead-up to Christmas – well, remember the whole daycare immunity thing? Surely it’s a law of physics or biology or something that kids in daycare will be sick, too sick to go anywhere at all, at some point in December. At the most inconvenient time. And, probably, share it around so you end up feeling atrocious yourself. Too exhausted for anything, just barely making it through the days and hoping you have a skerrick of energy somewhere to do the things that absolutely must be done before Christmas to make Christmas still Christmas for two little girls.
Just because you have grand ideas to sew beautiful, coordinating clothes for your children, or sew hair bands, or stuffed toys, or the shirt you’ve been promising your husband for 6 months, or even the dress you’ve been hoping to sew for yourself, doesn’t mean you will have a moment to yourself in the evenings to contemplate the sewing machine. 2022 Me could maybe just try to make those things as we go and not put so much pressure on Christmas.
Speaking of which, 2022 Me needs to remember the ‘be kind to yourself’ mantra that was Christmas 2021. Yes, it’s nice to have a clean and tidy and organised home but if you’re barely able to stay awake, go for the more important things. Like wrapping the Christmas presents. (Ahem – wrap the presents earlier. Like you used to. Remember? Attach notes securely. This year was just too stressful and late.) You may want to insist on baking Christmas goodies even if the weather is typically Brisbane summer steaminess but apparently Santa was quite happy with the ice cream you offered this year so maybe don’t stress too much about baking. And yes, 2021 Me feels quite smug about all the presents bought during the year and how much it reduced stress in December and 2022 Me could do well to remember this and yes, realise that you’ve turned into one of THOSE people.
2022 Me will hopefully also remember the absolute joy of children finding stockings that now have magical presents in them (underpants! A hat! A toothbrush! A FIDGET POPPER IT’S A RAINBOW UNICORN AND E HAS A MATCHING ONE HERS IS A BUTTERFLY THEY HAVE THESE AT DAYCARE I LOVE THEM!) And wondering at the magic of Santa and how he manages to get through our balcony door and just how does he know that C likes Frozen and unicorns and how does he know E likes bath toys? And dancing to Christmas music and eating yummy food and watching the Christmas lights blink and watching snow globes swirl and watching a Christmas movie up late as a huge treat. And finding gifts for special people that they delight in receiving as much as you delight in giving, and receiving beautiful and thoughtful gifts from others.
2022 Me will hopefully also make it to church. 2021 Me hasn’t made it, is still very anxious about taking children who are too young to be vaccinated anywhere, but is also really missing church and the community it brings and the spiritual food found therein. 2021 Me is quite aware how much the rhythm of life is influenced and guided by the rhythm of church life, and Christmas and Easter are far hollower, and harder to find joy in, without the religious basis for them.
2021 Me is also secretly hoping that the girls will be old enough to play by themselves (or together, without disaster) when Christmas 2022 is here. This was exhausting and I could have easily napped from about 10am. Yes, I am very impressed with myself for holding out until crashing into bed at 9:30pm but a nap would be nice next time, ok? Ok.
Before I had kids, I was one of THOSE people. ‘Oh, I’m never going to do the elf on the shelf thing, or letters to Santa, or tell my kids they had better behave or Santa won’t come’. And then I had a 2-year-old. ‘Ok, C, it’s time to go home. Yes it really is. I gave you warnings and a timer and now it is time to go home. No? Ok I’m just calling Santa to let him know – oh you’re coming? What a good choice.’
This turned around one day when playing outside and I was the one not doing what C wanted me to do. She whipped out her imaginary phone, told me she was just calling Santa, and walked away in a wonderful impression of a harried adult on a phone call, saying ‘hello, Santa? Yes it’s C here. So. I asked mummy if we could play burger shop but she said no, there were too many ants where we were going to play… hm… yes… hm… just thought you’d want to know’. All while I was trying my hardest not to crack a smile or burst out laughing.
Last year, it felt like I ‘called Santa’ most days. In an attempt at balance, I did try to call to tell him when she behaved wonderfully too, but they seem to have been rather outweighed by the less good behavioural updates.
This year, though, has been different. Delightfully different. It was the middle of November when I noticed C was behaving beautifully, all day. Helpful, cooperative, kind, caring. Nothing was said about the whole Christmas approaching thing, but there was a little ding in my brain that night saying, maybe she knows Christmas is starting to approach. And we have had beautiful behaviour from her … well, more than not. So that’s an improvement on last year, anyway. (She hasn’t been very well this last week so behaviour has suffered accordingly, but most of the time has been lovely.) And it has just taken the occasional ‘do I need to call Santa?’ for a sudden change to a much better choice of behaviour to occur.
There have still been a number of intended calls and messages to Santa, though. ‘I’m just going to watch something while you’re getting E to have a nap if that’s ok mummy?’ Or ‘You don’t mind if I watch something while you have a nap do you mummy?’ Actually, I do mind- ‘NOOOOO’ oh that’s ok, I’ll just call Santa and let him know not to come here at Christmas ‘NOOOO’ well there’s no point is there? You have so many toys but if you don’t want to play with any, why should he bring you any more? ‘Ok ok I’ll play with my toys’. And what do you know, she will happily spend hours and hours putting her babies (small plush toys) to sleep and giving them tea parties and building space ships with magnets and doing interpretive dance to iconic 80s hits and painting pictures of the night and writing love letters to Shaun the Sheep.
I suppose Santa might be welcome to come after all. That said, last year she wanted a football. A football fits easily in a normal size stocking. This year, she wants a wheelbarrow, so she can wheel her toys around. I’m not sure if Santa can actually fit one of those in his sleigh…
Since my last ‘what we read’ post, I have read Sleepytime many, many times. Every night for nearly 2 weeks, 1-3 times. There were many cuddles. What I especially loved was that C would start saying the Bingo and Floppy lines, then the whole second half of the book.
And then, one night, she started taking every single book off the bookshelf. What are you doing? I’m looking for my favourite book.
I had a feeling I knew which one it was. But I tried to deflect. Nursery rhymes? No. Bluey? No. Katie Morag? No, Cat in the Hat! Not the fish one!
We don’t have Cat in the Hat. She meant Fox in Socks. Such a tongue twister for a tired mummy. I do love the tweetle beetles, though.
So for a few nights I had to stumble my way through that, with C giggling uncontrollably whenever I made an error and did a raspberry.
Then it was the daycare Christmas party, with a visit from Santa! (Although she’s not sure this was the actual real life Santa, the glasses were the wrong shape, and the beard…). And Santa gave her a present! A book! It is, of course, now her favourite book. Such a relief from the tongue twisters. It is called the River Riddle and is an illustrated version of the river riddle, where you have a boat, a person, a fox, a sheep, and hay. Her favourite part? There’s singing! (That is, music notes on the page). So MY favourite bit is when she shows me this bit by acting it out. Gold.
I’ve mentioned before how much our family loves Bluey. Honestly, this could be a Bluey Appreciation blog. We love it. There are oodles of Bluey items in our home already and more will be added at Christmas.
We wouldn’t have so much though if we didn’t love the show, in so many ways. And this is the only show that everyone loves. There are some shows that C adores… and we can’t stand. Some that C adores and I enjoy but Glenn can’t stand. Bluey, though – well, Glenn watches it when no-one else is around.
I could (and probably will, in bits, eventually), list at length all the ways we love the show. But Season 3 is hitting all the right notes. Every single episode has me laughing or crying or cheering or all three.
Today I want to write about Mum. I am both a lot like her, and aspire to be like and take inspiration from her. I love my own Mum, and have learnt so much from her (admittedly, some of it in hindsight); however, sometimes it’s easier to learn something when it’s presented differently. Like, in cartoon dog form.
I’ve learnt from Mum (Chilli) that tone of voice matters. ‘What are you doing?’ can sound very different when asked with different tones. And, accordingly, engender different responses and different deeper reactions from little ones. My natural manner is a very suspicious, let’s cut this off before it escalates, I don’t think this is going to end well, tone. If I was asked in this tone, I would probably feel guilty whether I was playing quietly with building blocks or climbing where I shouldn’t climb and looking where I know I shouldn’t. But if I channel Mum in the Bingo episode, everything changes. I have asked in that curious tone and received all sorts of responses. From ‘ooh mummy can I show you something, I’m just building a house for us, it has a bed here…(etc)’ to a furtive bump as she slides off something she should not have been on, looking at something she should not have been looking at, before telling me ‘I was just looking at…’ or ‘mummy watch this!!!’ What is said is important, but the way it is said is just as important. Especially for young ones.
I’ve learnt from her that I’m not the only mum who gets frustrated. ‘Sticky Gecko’, anyone? It was a long time before I actually saw that episode start to finish. It never seemed to be a top choice, but once I’d seen it – well. (And it has so much in it for C too – mostly, that it’s ok to be a bit nervous about seeing a friend.) I think many mums feel validated by this episode. If we arrive at the park a bit late for a play date, I know I can say ‘sorry, we were having a sticky gecko morning’ and the other mum will nod with understanding. The extra element in this episode for me though, is that Chilli doesn’t stay in the frustrated mum character zone (as many shows would have her); nor is she a calm and patient angelic character who never bats an eyelid. Instead, she feels her feelings and then also finds out what her girls are feeling. A huge lesson for me.
And I’ve learnt from her that it’s ok to be fun. Mums are so often the boring parent, who make sure teeth are cleaned and laundry is done and floors are cleaned and tables wiped and dishes done and homework done and hair is brushed and bedtime is observed. It can be exhausting. So when we watched ‘Rain’ the other day, I had a similar reaction to when I watched ’Sleepytime’ for the first time. Starting off with laughter but, before too long, tears in my eyes. Although C is often very much like Bingo, the interactions between Mum and Bluey in this episode are so, so much like my interactions with C. It sounds weird – but also perfectly normal – to say that watching ‘Rain’ was like watching my life in cartoon dog form. I just hope I can remember to get my feet wet more often.
Last week, it came to our attention that my brother (a cellist) was giving a joint cello-violin recital this afternoon. At a location easy for us to get to. At a time that was perfect for us. We decided we would try to go, barring any illness. And we went!
I’m not sure if it’s more the pandemic, or we are really introverted, or having two young children is hard, really hard, but getting out as a family is rare for us. It feels like such a major achievement.
E still has a reaction along the lines of whaaaaaat are we doing who are these people why are they all coming up close and smiling and tickling my toes…..? But when she was settled in daddy’s arms, she was very much into it all. She kept straining to see the music, and ate her afternoon tea like a little bird while turning to the people behind us and giving them little looks that told me that they thought she was adorable.
C was very excited about the whole thing, especially excited to be seeing Uncle Alex and Auntie Alys, and to be wearing a special twirly dress with ruffles, and to be catching a train and going to a concert. However… when we arrived, we saw Uncle Alex (this was fine), and then Sue who I’ve known for years and knows C from when she was a baby but hasn’t seen since, and then Allana who we’ve known for years and met C a couple of times when she was a baby but hasn’t seen since, then Auntie Alys (this was also fine). By the time we sat down, she was a bit overwhelmed.
I was expecting our screeching baby to screech and need to be taken outside, so I told C she could go outside with me any time. She wanted to go outside straight away. I made her stay in for a little bit and then – after a Bach prelude and an Ysaÿe sonata – took both girls outside.
It turned out that C was ‘a bit nervous’ around all those people. I did reassure her that, even though they were all delighted to see her, they were now all sitting down watching the concert. Even so, she thought outside was a better option.
And who could blame her? Chairs can be so restrictive. Outside was lovely grass and a flowering poinciana tree and a chicken and a ramp and we could still hear the concert. She ran around and investigated the chicken hutch and looked up through the tree at the sky and looked under the hall and went up and down the ramp. E had a wonderful time playing with the grass then ‘walking’ over the grass and, yes, trying to eat the grass.
And although we couldn’t stay for the whole concert, I feel like we had a wonderful afternoon. It was the perfect outing.
A huge milestone in our family this week: E started settling in to daycare. And this experience has, so far, been wildly different from when C began.
C had been looked after by Glenn or my parents once I went back to work. When she was 10 months, we realised that was no longer feasible and we needed childcare, as soon as possible. Her settling in was a little play there the afternoon before she had to be in for a full day.
E has been looked after primarily by me which is easier because, thanks to all sorts of things, I do what I can to work from home. But if Glenn is looking after her while I’m trying to work in her sight, she screeches for me. I was beginning to realise that we needed childcare, soonish but not urgently but maybe we should start the process.
C loves people, has always made people smile, and will say a cheery hello to random people we pass in the street. I was not at all worried about her starting daycare from a social point of view.
E does not love people. If someone looks at her a bit too closely, she cries. I was worried – I am still worried – about her starting daycare from a social point of view. Even though she has seen the staff nearly every week, she has also cried at them nearly every week. I am anticipating a few weeks for settling in.
C was a terrible sleeper. Fed to sleep for ages. I was very, very worried about her starting daycare from a naps point of view. After a few days and conversations with her teacher (yes, actually, I know it’s a short nap but please please please wake her up from her morning nap otherwise she just will refuse to sleep at lunch have you noticed that because I notice that and then bedtime is atrocious), things settled down and I didn’t worry quite so much.
E has been a dream in comparison. Not entirely – there have been days that have been horrible – but so much easier. Refuses to be fed or even held to sleep. Must be lying down. I am not worried about her starting daycare from a naps point of view. And sure enough, she has napped exactly when I said I wanted her to nap. Her teachers are amazed that she wakes right on 9:30.
The night before C’s first day, I was madly trying to name all her things and she refused to go to sleep. It was rather stressful.
The night before E’s first day, she slept beautifully. Until 4:30 or so and by 4:45 she was screeching for me to wake up. Not fun, but it did mean she was definitely very ready for that morning nap.
When we dropped C off for her first day, I cried. I was so worried, and scared for her, and wondering if I had done the right thing. One of the staff assured me they were all highly trained and most of them had children of their own. When I recognised that it is their job, they’re actually better equipped to do this than I am, it made it a whole lot easier.
I had no such qualms with E. I was a little sad the night before and gave her extra extra cuddles, but I was in a totally different headspace. I know the staff are going to look after her. I know C can go for little visits (which they both love, no surprises there). I know it is good for E to experience different carers and other children and new toys and messy play that someone else gets to clean up. I know it will make the next few years easier as she goes through these pre-school years with the same children and carers, and I get that time to work, to earn money, to have time away so I can come back refreshed with all the cuddles and kisses of I miss you.
The Stuff of Our Life 