traditions

What We Read This Week (Things are Changing)

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I changed things up this week. Story time remains at bedtime for C, but E and S now have stories after S has a morning feed and before breakfast. And, without any pushing from me, E has started doing stories at bedtime too. Win! 

Tonight after the big girls had finished their bath, E went to the bookshelf and pulled out her current favourite book, a board version of The Gruffalo’s Child, and started reading it. I haven’t read it to her very much. In fact, I don’t think I’ve managed to read it entirely yet as she keeps turning pages for me and getting to the same page and saying the same phrase, over and over, looking very worried, and I don’t know what she is saying but this is clearly very important. I didn’t read it to her tonight though, because C found the Frozen book after months (MONTHS!), months of searching and all was well with the world. She sat on my lap and I started reading it, then E came over and snuggled in and I had my two big girls cuddled around me as I read to them and my heart melted.

Stories in bed in the mornings have been a mix of sensory books and paper story books. Tickle Tickle Peter (a very sweet Peter Rabbit book for S) and That’s Not My Reindeer which always starts in front of S and mysteriously ends up in E’s hands, just like any Bluey book (Bob Bilby is pictured). A new one for E is Cuddles and Snuggles (aww), and both girls are enjoying one of my dearest books, Zin Zin Zin! A Violin! There is a long backstory of how it came to be in our family (I won’t go into that here), and it was the first book that made C smile when she was a baby. All of my girls love it and are really engaged when it is read. 

I realise I should document what C borrows from the school library, too. She gets such a kick out of being able to borrow every single week. This week she brought home two princess books. Of course. Princess Beatrice and the Rotten Robber (Elizabeth Honey), and Barbie Princess Charm School. One I love and the other … I don’t love it. Unfortunately, C feels the opposite. That said, she has picked plot holes throughout the Barbie book so I’m not too disappointed. 

E’s Second Birthday

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E is two! She’s finally, actually, really two. And, just like it has felt like she’s been two for months anyway, it doesn’t feel like there was much birthday. The day was marked to show she was now officially older: I sent some mini cupcakes along to daycare; and we had a very small celebration involving cake and balloons with my parents and a family friend. But we didn’t have our usual special breakfast. We didn’t do lots of presents. The presents that she has received have been totally ignored, or accepted like they were just meant to be, or railed against with tantrums. 

And wow, were there tantrums. I wouldn’t let her eat cupcakes on the way to daycare. I wasn’t daddy. Daddy was trying to put sandals on her feet when there were balloons to play with. There were no more blueberries. The cake was not yet in her mouth. I wouldn’t let her eat all the M&Ms off the top of the cake. 

There were, of course, also utterly delightful and lovely parts of the day. C and E sitting quietly together on a chair to watch ABC Kids. C leaning over to give E a kiss on the forehead. E climbing onto the bed where I was feeding S and getting right up close to S and staring into her eyes before giving her a kiss on the cheek. The little shivers of happiness when someone said happy birthday. Seeing her daycare teacher when we were heading home and being shown such a sweet photo of E, totally overwhelmed with delight as she sat in front of the cupcakes. Cuddles and ‘wuv you’s and kisses on both cheeks. Her face when she saw the cake. The excited screams from C and E as they played Keepy Uppy, or tried to run past daddy without being eaten.

All in all, a happy day. Happy birthday to our funny and utterly delightful E. Two!

Valentine’s Day 2023

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Or, ‘Well, That Was Unexpected’. Except you can’t start anything about Valentine’s Day like that, can you? People think either something wonderfully good (‘you got engaged?!’) or something wonderfully bad (‘he broke up with you on Valentine’s Day? Oh that’s rough…’). Neither of those things apply here. Already married. Still married. Still in a relationship that we both consider to be loving and supportive and respectful.

And although we don’t really go in for the big Valentine’s Day hoo ha (for want of a better word), it does not go unnoticed. Flowers and chocolates were given, a special breakfast made, the things that often go unsaid were said.

And although I feel that Valentine’s Day is perhaps a day more for grownups than for 4-year-olds, I did a few heart-themed activities with the girls in the last week or so. C drew a whole page of hearts that she then started to colour in and assign each to a classmate. E happily painted on some hearts that I drew for her. I made some heart-shaped hair clips for C to wear today, and cut her strawberries and her peanut butter sandwich into hearts. We made heart-shaped pizzas for dinner.

And although I planned on taking the girls straight to the shops after the school pickup, the weather had other ideas. I knew that this would happen eventually, that a school pickup would coincide with a thunderstorm on a day when I had no choice but to take the younger girls with me in the double pram. Thankfully, my girls are up for adventure. I kept thinking in my head that we would get to the shops, but there came a point where I had to admit that this was just dangerous. Unavoidable, but dangerous to do any more than was absolutely vital.

Unfortunately, to be safe means crossing at a set of lights instead of jaywalking a major road near the crest of a hill. Unfortunately, by not jaywalking we were forced into taking a detour then another to avoid flooded intersections and roads. We still had to walk next to a flooded road and we witnessed some cars being sensible, taking turns, driving slowly, driving near the middle of the road, being mindful of our presence. And then there were others, who drove close on the tail of the car in front, who stayed near the curb, who didn’t slow down and seemed to enjoy the big wash of water they produced. 

Fortunately, we made it home in one piece. As the rain was starting to ease. And just in time for the Bureau of Meteorology to send me a notification: Severe thunderstorm warning. We laughed and laughed and laughed.

Fortunately, school doesn’t start until 9am. I predict tomorrow morning will be spent with the hairdryer: homework folder, homework book, leaflet on fundraising, and school shoes are all sodden. What fun.

The Evolution of Sunday Morning Waffles

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What would you like for breakfast? -Waffles! – Ohhhh sorry sweetheart, there’s not enough time this morning. It’s a daycare morning. Or, daddy has to get to work early. Or, it’s already nearly 8 and waffles take aaaaaages. 

We have had this conversation multiple times. Occasionally, I would find a recipe and prep it the night before, hoping for a delicious and nutritious and enjoyed-by-everyone breakfast. Prepping the night before, though, excludes morning-of waffle enthusiasm.

I grew tired of this situation. I found a recipe that, I hoped, ticked all the boxes. I let the girls watch shows in the bedroom while I made it. Zero prepping happened the night before. 

Also, did I mention blueberries? And toddlers? And put them together and suddenly you have a blueberry fiend, a child who will eat nothing but blueberries, who will spy them in the most secretive of hidey-holes and point and drop their chin and look up at you with big dark eyes and say, ‘boo, bear? Peeeese?’ until you cave and magically find the blueberries you thought you had hidden but obviously not well enough because a toddler saw them from the next room. And you seem to go through three punnets a day and every shopping trip you need to buy blueberries and if you happen to have a toddler with you on a shopping trip you have to suss out where the blueberries are displayed so you can sneak them into the basket without enduring the full-on meltdown that is guaranteed if the toddler sees the blueberries but isn’t given the blueberries that have not been washed nor even paid for yet. 

And then the toddler will veer left gastronomically and suddenly blueberries are forgotten and all they will eat is butter and grapes and maybe cheese. Punnets of blueberries collect in hidden corners of the fridge. And then you will move an item one morning and find – joy! – a punnet of forgotten blueberries. Perfect for on top of the waffles you’re making. Except… these are obviously old blueberries. Not so old that they are turning fuzzy and white, but maybe a few are visibly wrinkled and some are a bit squishy. But, wait a minute. Wouldn’t that be a nice addition to the waffles? 

Waffles have evolved. I no longer do the full batch, but make my brain work (remember to halve it, remember to halve it, remember to halve it) and enjoy the half measurements on our measuring cups. Blueberries are added, not usually a full punnet, definitely not a fresh punnet, but blueberries nonetheless. There are plans in my brain for incorporating other overripe fruits. 

Are these delicious? I think so. Are these nutritious? Yes, definitely (high in protein, high in calcium, low in sugar). Are they enjoyed by everyone? Ye- oh, ah, let’s see, wait a minute… actually no. No they are not. C enjoys them, and will eat a whole one without prompting, and will also eat one at afternoon tea (but not at school – they might be a bit tricky to eat quickly) Glenn doesn’t mind them, when he’s not dashing off to work. I enjoy them. S is not up to blueberry waffles yet. And E… they are a hard no for E. Not just these waffles but every sort of waffle. Oh well.

The current version of Sunday morning waffles is this (recipe adapted from drink-milk.com):

Half of 1 1/4 cup milk (soooo… 155mL or so… 2/3 cup approximately)

1/3 cup Greek yoghurt

1 large egg

Small squirt of vanilla bean paste

A generous squirt (1 teaspoon if you do measuring) of rice malt syrup (or other liquid sweetener)

A generous shake of cinnamon

A dash of cardamom

1 cup plain flour

3 teaspoons baking powder

Pinch of sea salt

Some slightly overripe blueberries or other slightly-past-it fruit

Turn on your waffle iron.

Mix all the ingredients together, adding fruit at the end for a gentle stir-through.

When it’s ready, spray waffle iron with non-stick spray. Pour some waffle mix in the middle of the waffle iron (a loaded dessert spoon works well). Close the iron and cook until … cooked. Remove waffle to a plate, repeat with remaining batter. 

Nice served with butter and maple syrup; nut butter; banana; blueberries.

To freeze, allow to cool. I cut ours in half before putting them in freezer bags and labelling with a Sharpie. Apparently they last for 3 months in the freezer, but we tend to finish ours in about 2 weeks. To thaw, toast on a low setting. 

How is it … July… already?

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I started this blog post in May. May, which already feels forever ago. I’ve been thinking to myself, I need to write a blog post… but first I just need to… and so now it is no longer May, not even June, but July. It’s been a big year. Here’s a quick update.

February and March saw a lot of cake. 3 of our family’s birthdays happen within 5 weeks and there was cake for those actual days and cake for parties and cake for daycare as well as cake for St Patrick’s Day and it was just so much cake. Glenn and I are not big cake eaters but I love decorating them. Actually, neither of our girls is a big cake eater either really but they are very keen helpers.

In order:

E’s birthday party (a Very Hungry Caterpillar cake)

E’s daycare birthday (cake pops)

E’s actual birthday evening at home

Glenn’s birthday

St Patrick’s Day

C’s daycare birthday cupcakes (Baby Yoda)

C’s actual birthday evening at home

C’s birthday party (Frozen themed – this one didn’t really turn out as planned but it still garnered oohs and ahhs from her friends).

Much to C’s disappointment, we have to wait until August – which seems further away than Christmas to her – for my birthday.

Which brings me to the next piece of news: we are expecting another baby girl in August! C especially is over the moon. Lately she has started singing a goodnight song to my tummy, followed by a goodnight kiss, then asking me if she’s settled down to sleep yet? Adorable. Thoughts on this pregnancy will be getting their own post soon.

And the last piece of news, which was very exciting and took up a LOT of my brain and time: my brother got married at the end of June. A wonderful, wonderful day, and we are so happy for the newlyweds. In a way, nothing much has changed though – his wife has been Auntie Alys to my girls for more than a year, and very, VERY much loved and adored by all of us. What took up so much of my time was C being a flower girl, and I ended up making the dress for her. This required a practice dress for fit and style options, then there were daycare photos sprung on us so a quick dress made for E to coordinate, then the actual dress for C, plus stockings and shoes and hair, then making a dress for myself. That one was thankfully very quick – I cut the pieces at lunchtime the day before and sewed it up that night. 

I had planned on posting this earlier (much, much earlier), but in my search for photos this evening I MAY have come across photos of when the girls were born and my goodness me. I have turned into a blubbering mess. So you see here some photos of some cakes from this year, and a promise of more of the stuff of our life to come soon. Promise.

Goodnight with Daddy

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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.

What We Read This Week (Christmas Books)

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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.

Christmas 2021: Hope vs Kids

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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.

I’m Calling Santa

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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… 

St Andrew’s Day

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Such a big deal is made out of St Patrick’s Day. And I know, everyone loves the Irish – I even married one. But I try to make Scotland’s day, St Andrew’s Day, just as important in the rhythm of our life. 

In previous years I have made raspberry Cranachan, and Scottish sausage rolls (at least, that’s what the recipe called them). This year we are in the midst of the baby screeching phase and the 3-year-old needing me in her bedroom the whole time until she falls asleep phase so my efforts were limited. I had ideas to make handprint Scottish thistles and cotton wool Scottish flags but C was ‘not really in the zone for that’.

So this year was the year we celebrated the national animal of Scotland: the unicorn. You can’t really pass up an opportunity to make unicorn cupcakes.

The cupcakes were made Monday afternoon, mixed at the dining table while E had her afternoon tea. The decorations were also made at the dining table, while E had her lunch today. There was much wheedling from C to taste just a teeny tiny incy wincy smallest ever piece of fondant… she may have snuck a few specks while I was looking the other way. She also tried to eat the bit of fondant that she was using but that was a very hefty chunk that oh just makes me queasy thinking about it. Ugh. The icing was made and cupcakes finally decorated after lunch.

This was our first time making unicorn cupcakes. Next time I will make sure we leave the fondant to set fully (normally we do any shapes the day before). And next time I will make sure to find my actual piping bag with actual attachments instead of using a sandwich bag with a hole cut in the side. It just isn’t the same.