Brisbane

Weekend Rundown

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

When I started this blog (over 4 years ago now! Wild), I had a plan. Of course I had a plan. I was aiming for 3-4 posts a week. A craft that we’d done, something that we’d made in the kitchen, what we had been reading, and hopefully a little reflection of something that had been going on, like a collection of funny things the girls had said, or new milestones like when someone learns to walk or make their own sandwiches. Things evolve, of course. I mean, for starters, the two girls of the blog beginnings have turned into three girls. Reading took a hit for a while. Crafts have also been sporadic. Weekend food prep felt important recently. Work has grown considerably from actually fairly unemployed to working about 40 hours a week. 

Recently, books have come back to be a big part of our lives. To the Me of three years ago with a baby who couldn’t snuggle in for a bedtime story at all and who feared said baby would be well behind when she reached school because she hadn’t had daily stories from you, just chill. Don’t try to force it and she’ll come around. Girls have been having way (I mean, WAAAAYY) too much screen time but that is in the process of being cut considerably, which is going to get its own post soon. This is a big area of life that I am working on. Games and crafts the girls are doing are getting more traction. Snack and some meal element prep is also becoming more of a thing, as work and school and healthy eating are more predominant in our lives. So I thought I might do a weekend rundown post, sharing what has happened when I have 2-3 girls at home with me for 3 days.

So. This weekend felt Big. E had her first proper dancing lessons on Saturday morning, and so I had the first time of taking all three girls for one girl to do dancing. I brought snacks and activities so all was well. The brand new ballet shoes I bought for E at 7.57 for an 8am lesson, though, made it through ballet and the jazz part of jazz and tap but were nicked, for want of a better word, by another girl when they all changed into tap shoes. I am working up to my Private School Mum persona to sort this out. Girls did painting during the day, and watched TV during the middle of the day while I baked, and then we went off to the library. As mentioned in the last books post, C read an entire graphic novel over the course of the afternoon.

Sunday was church, where C learned how to plait yarn and I think I might have a new mum friend maybe. Then, as it was on our way home anyway, we went to the Celtic Festival. It was hot. It was sunny. It was dry. It was pretty, with all the jacarandas in bloom around the place, but I wish they picked a different time of year for this festival. We watched some Irish dancing. We were not there for any highland dancing, which I am starting to really want to start to learn, or have maybe S start. I think it would really suit her. I digress. We had iced teas and the girls turned back to lovely from the cranky pantses they were becoming. I took them home for lunch and the promised ice cream, then back again for the costume competition (very strangely run) and playing in the playground. Needless to say, they were suitably worn out and we had an early dinner. 

Clear blue sky with a swoop of jacaranda trees in purple flowering glory. There are less-glorious trees in the background. A festival is on, with a purple tent top next to the jacarandas as well as other tents and vans, and people milling about.

In all of this, E had found a partially-coloured in dragonfly picture of C’s. I printed her out a different one, which she has been steadily and carefully working on since Sunday evening. It will be a welcome back present for her favourite preschool teacher who had been gone for ages (4 weeks and it has been a long 4 weeks) and was finally back today. I am incredibly impressed with E’s care and skill here, not to mention her commitment to quality. She isn’t speeding it up and doing a rush job or a messy job or an incomplete job. She is working to make this a wonderful picture, no matter how long it takes. It’s beautiful.

Being Normal

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

I am in the ocean. A wave will approach and I can see it approach and I can feel the inevitability of its arrival, the crash as it breaks over me, the busyness of the swirling water, the pull as it returns to the ocean only to be replaced by another after a brief spell of calm. It is glorious, delightful, exhausting. When the sand beneath my feet starts to crumble things begin to be unsteady. Move too far away from the shore and there is zero respite from the energy required, no breaks even when there is no crashing wave because just to stay alive means staying on top of everything, treading water or clawing back to the surface. 

Floating is not an option.

This is parenthood, family life for us right now. There are things I would love to do but even getting everyone to the shops (a 10 minute walk) is momentous these days. And although I love love love this ocean, it is hard to contemplate swimming farther afield. Swimming farther afield involves carrying, to varying degrees, children. I was never great at towing people when lifesaving.

A few weeks ago, Glenn applied for a few days off work. We could go on a holiday! Take the girls to the Gold Coast and let the younger two experience the beach for the first time! Or, ok, maybe not as far as the Gold Coast but maybe the Wynnum and Manly foreshore. Or, yeah, being more realistic, maybe South Bank? And its fake beach? Yeah. 

In the end, while feeling like it may involve a mammoth amount of organisation, I didn’t prep anything at all beforehand. No hours the night before prepping snacks, nappy bag, towels, sunscreen, spare clothes, hats, drinks. We managed to do all of that in the morning – and still leave in the morning. Amazing.

When there, we were part of a crowd. Not so much of a crowd that it was unbearable, more like the size of crowd that makes you feel like you are part of the story, some of a whole lot of people doing the same thing at the same time at the same place. A family outing to South Bank on a hot and humid and sunny Sunday summer morning, for some beach time and water experience and ice cream. It felt like we were being … normal.

Did the girls enjoy themselves? Oh. My. Goodness. Did they ever. 

C knew what was coming and was excited in anticipation then just loving, absolutely loving, the whole experience of beach with sand and water and splashing and water and playing and water, then crazy fountains with unpredictable water, then ice cream, ICE CREAM!!! She was allowed to have rainbow ice cream, with sprinkles, in a cone, and what’s this? You can eat the cone? And it’s delicious?! Wow! 

E had no idea what hit her. A first beach experience. She must have thought this was the greatest bath ever. The screams of anguish as I pulled her out and dragged her over the hot sand onto the hot path were nixed when we arrived at the crazy fountains. The rollercoaster of emotions is such a toddler thing. Total and utter delight when the water worked. Total and utter sorrow when the water stopped. Repeat. Then, annoyance at being contained in the pram again but ooh what’s this? Rainbow ice cream in a cup? With sprinkles? I will eat three mouthfuls. That is all. Thank you but no more. 

S was very much S. Fell asleep just before we arrived at the beach, so… no beach for her. Woke when we were at the fountains. Stayed very chill. I held her for a bit and she checked out the trees and the water… and the trees again… (I’m not sure if it’s a normal third child thing, but I didn’t take any – ANY – photos of her. At all. Thankfully, Glenn took some of me holding her. )

Did our girls sleep well that night? Er…. No. I thought C would be worn out, thoroughly exhausted, but still she didn’t sleep until around 8:30. E missed her nap so actually fell asleep in her high chair after dinner, stayed asleep as I picked her out and changed her nappy and put her in pyjamas and got her into the cot but then she was coughing and coughing and waking frequently until after 10pm.

Did we find it hard? Yes and no. It was in some ways, mostly because it was new and different and uncharted territory for us, but we also just got in and did it. No major disasters, or anything crucial left behind at either end, or inexplicable tantrums, or injuries or disappearances or even sunburn. In the post-outing rundown, it seems we did ok.

Did we feel proud of ourselves? Why yes. Yes we did. Our first big family outing, purely for pleasure, to a busy place with lots of people and two potential runners. And, most of all, we made our way to a different spot in our ocean. It was tough, it was different, it required both of us being totally switched on and on board, but it was also really satisfying. We did something that families DO. We made memories. We took fantastic photos. We got out of our comfort zone. Still glorious and delightful and exhausting but so, so worthwhile. 

In Praise of the Starlight Room

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

Tuesday was huge: E was due for a checkup at the hospital. I love the Queensland Children’s Hospital. I mean, I’d rather not have to go there ever again, but as we have had to go and will continue to need to go, I love it.

Not just for its proximity, or the quality of staff, or the abundance of volunteers ready to help you out at the first furrowed brow of confusion or eyes glazed in shock.

My favourite thing about the QCH is the Starlight Room. Without it, our trips to the hospital would be diabolical. 

This is a room that recognises that children still need to play. That they need to have the normality of toys, of a big window to see the world, a room with lady birds and bumble bees to ride on, and shopping trolleys to push and pretend to play shops with, and cars and dolls and hula hoops, and tables with craft and colouring in and drawing.

This is a room that recognises that children need a break from hospital beds and hospital staff and the gravity of a situation that lands a child in hospital. A room that recognises that not all children at the hospital are patients, and siblings need just as much care and attention. 

This is a room that recognises that parents need a break, or time to focus on the child who is the patient and not worry about where any other child is and if it’s bad that they’re plugged into a tablet or trying to play with all the cords they can see.

This is a room that recognises that there’s a lot of waiting at hospitals. And although you may *know* that there’s the possibility of a 2-3 hour wait for the appointment, no one ever thinks it will really take that long so only prepares a trip for a 9-month-old and a 3-and-a-half-year-old involving maybe a half hour wait. Helloooooo, Starlight Room.

I admit, several times throughout this year I have used the Starlight Room as an incentive. C needs to be well in order to be allowed in, so a good sleep is in order. Even if I’m pushing for that sleep to happen a few months in advance. You can’t convince us you need to stay home from daycare then be expected to have a visit to the Starlight Room.

Tuesday was a bit different. Instead of me saying we’re off to the hospital and C responding with ‘yay that means I go to Starlight Room!’ this time she wasn’t so sure. A bit nervous. We reassured her that she didn’t have to go, she could stay with us in the waiting area. And she did, for a bit. She sat on my lap and we read stories while Glenn walked E around. But after about 30 minutes of this she said maybe she’d changed her mind. Ugh.

So I checked with the receptionist who was really sorry about the wait until I told her this was perfect. With the promise of a phone call when E’s time was approaching, off we went to the Starlight Room. Instead of leaving her be as we have in the past, this time we stayed with C a bit. A relaxing sit as E looked at all these other children and had some lunch. An interesting experience watching C playing in this kind of environment, needing to share with other children who maybe don’t have the social skills she has, but also in an environment in which all children are a little or a lot not their usual self. I let E have a little wander and she enjoyed the bumble bee (well, eating the little knob that is a handle) then crawling on a new surface, and finally some sensory play. 

By the time we decided we needed to go back downstairs to see how much longer we may need to wait (it was now past her nap time and E gets *cranky*), C was definitely settled in. I tried to tell her we were going and I think she heard me but she was wearing a tiara with a veil and trying to get a remote control car to work so there was little response. And I’m pretty sure the only reason she came with us when we collected her later was the promise of pizza. Win.

I’m thinking we need to make a donation to the Starlight Foundation. The amount of craft that we have around our place from her various visits – a ‘cake’, a collage, a feathery jellyfish creation – is one thing (and so much appreciated by our craft-loving girl), but the very existence of this oasis in the hospital is so very wonderful. It has made our hospital trips and our life so, so much easier.

A Concert: Queensland Pops Orchestra Celtic Spectacular

/ annamurray / 2 Comments

Today was huge. Glenn was playing in the Queensland Pops Orchestra Celtic Spectacular concerts, and I took the girls. Huge.

The last concert we went to was the New Year’s Eve concert. I was pregnant (so, huge and tired). C was hugely excited but then screamed and screamed for most of the whole entire concert because she couldn’t be on stage with daddy. It was not really how I wanted to see out the year but, then again, maybe it was rather fitting for the year that was 2020.

I was both keen and anxious for today’s concert experience. Oodles of planning and mental preparation happened on my end. Naps to be tweaked, outfits, nappies, snacks, meals, water bottles, cardigans, and (most important) a helper.

All ready in the viewing room

And, all in all, I think it was a success.

C was, again, hugely excited. On the way to daycare during the week she told me all about the last concert and how she was upset she couldn’t be on stage with daddy and she promised, she really promised in the earnestness of a 3yo, that she wouldn’t scream this time. She leapt around all morning and was too excited to eat anything except a handful of grape tomatoes for lunch and got ready without any fussing. She held hands all the way to the ferry and sat on her seat without any reminders and, when we met up with my helper (my amazing future sister-in-law, Auntie A), held hands with her. She was, unsurprisingly, ravenously hungry when we got to the viewing room, and ate the leftover cheese from her lunch as well as all three of the yoghurt pouches I had packed for us. She danced whenever she felt like it and told me the Irish dancers in the second half were ‘doing it wrong’. She twirled her way through the evening and built a concert out of her blocks before dinner.

Heading in on the ferry

E – well, this was her first ever concert experience. The ferry ride was in the zone of ‘ummmm what? This is… new…’ and this held until we were safely seated in the viewing room. She was transfixed by the tuning and the bagpipes and drums. She began jumping on my lap and, wow, this child has amazing rhythm. The Scottish dancers had her cooing. And then the singer came on stage. The grizzling began and that escalated to screaming and expressions of actually mummy we are only just ok here and I’m not really sure about what on earth this is and whoa so many people and they all seem to want to look at me and ok you’re here and what’s that thing on your face I’m going to pull it off oh that’s funny your face makes funny sounds but ohhhhh I’m hungry but there’s too much going on for me to feed and I’m tired too did I mention I’m tired so so tired and hungry and over-stimulated and when can this be over? 

Watching daddy tune the orchestra

So we left shortly after interval.

Yes, I wish we could have seen more of Glenn playing, especially his solos. Yes, I wish we could have seen more of the dancing. Yes, I wish we could have seen Glenn (and so many others) afterwards at the Stage Door. But, baby steps. Seeing my girls experiencing it all in their own ways is a joy nobody told me about before I had children but it is right up there as one of my favourite things.

Scottish dancing