children

What We Read This Week (11/10/2025)

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What a week it has been for books in our family. I admit, there has been little reading aside from one or two short ones if a girl is having trouble falling asleep.  The little readers version of The Little Mermaid. We’re Going On a Bear Hunt. The lost teddy bear book with the letters inside (which, although I like the illustrations and I like that it is a Tasmanian family and I like that it has letters in envelopes which are SUCH fun, the filler bits in the story feel contrived, as if someone needed to reach a word count or – more likely – they had little elements of a story that they wanted to include and so put them into this one).

But as mentioned in Book Week in August, C’s school does Book Week not in the middle of the craziness of all that is term 3, but at the start of term 4. Which is perfect, apart from the heat that is often present which does rather have an impact on costumes. But right after school holidays is great so that when kids are bored during the school holidays, “How about you work on your Book Week costume?” can be thrown around by parents as something to do to stave off the screen time, earning eye rolls and groans and resistance to make those holidays wonderfully joyful and stress-free. 

Ahem. C had the idea in August that she could be the tree from The Giving Tree. I had ideas. She had ideas. It came to the holidays and she told me she very precisely what her costume was to be. I told her my ideas. That was wrong. She wanted to wrap a cardboard box around her torso and stick some green fringing to the top. And she was desperate to win. This was a huge factor. I’m not sure what Book Week is like where you are, but last year one of the winners was a kid who was Snow White AND the seven dwarves. And the year before, a girl in a Cinderella outfit complete with tiara and something like glass shoes and she was inside a homemade cardboard pumpkin coach did NOT win. I was preparing myself for dealing with a very disappointed 7-and-a-half-year-old.

Especially as her first-born perfectionism and a healthy dose of wanting to enjoy not sharing the iPad with her sisters meant that she just did not get started on this costume. Last Sunday, I took all the girls outside with a roll of butcher paper and a bottle of green paint so we got the green paper sorted out at least, as well as making a thorough mess of the outside areas. That made for a good physical activity Monday morning, I must say. Tuesday, big talk about doing this costume before it was the night before. Wednesday, same thing. Thursday morning, she cut out some big sheets of the green paper first thing. Thursday night, I had a talk with her about look at where we are. I’m going to have my shower and then you are getting out of bed and we are making this costume together.

You know how many times she has fallen asleep before, say, 8.30pm this year? Maybe twice. One of those was, of course, Thursday night. She was asleep when I had finished showering at 8.13. Unbelievable. I did my best with this costume, and thankfully she was awake bright and early Friday morning. She ended up in a basic brown skirt/dress, my new linen long-sleeved top, and a stapled together headdress with the green paper. She had scrunched a piece of red paper into an apple, and Glenn stapled green leaves to it and tied it to a string to hang on her wrist. 

There were definitely vibes of no adult intervention. But, she also looked like an elegant tree. And you know what? She won the year 2 “Best DIY Spirit” prize. We are all stoked.

Two of the judges were from the local council library, and of course they talked about the library a bit, and so of course E and S were then at me to go back to the library. This afternoon, we did. I paid the fine on all our very overdue books. We borrowed a bunch more, some of which are gold. I will delve into them more next week, I think. I’m tired.

Beach Break

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We did a spring break. A mini vacation. A very brief respite from our everyday. Glenn had some bonus time off booked. I took a day off work and we – well, I want to say skipped down to the Gold Coast but that does not at all match with the length of the trip there or back thanks to no trains on the Gold Coast line for, as it turns out, about a month which encompasses the whole school holidays including the long weekend WHAT ARE THEY THINKING but anyway. It was an impromptu booking a week beforehand, so only a week of S thinking we were going that day to the beach where she would build sandcastles and splash in the water. That was a long week.

In writing this post, I have tried writing out a blow-by-blow and it just goes on and on and for someone who’s not actually in our family why would you read that? No. I’ll shorten it for you a tad. You’re welcome.

Day 1. Report card: B … B- … I mean, it was a tough day. Getting to the Gold Coast for us is usually about 90 minutes, maybe 2 hours if connections don’t quite go our way and we are staying at the more southern end. But instead of a zippy train, train, tram, we had to do train, train, rail bus, rail bus that had to go on the highway with all the traffic that doesn’t know how to merge apparently and my goodness me that took a long time, tram. Girls were fantastic, despite the 5 hour trip. We had snacks and did things like look for car and truck colours and there were no screens except to look on the map. 

Day 1 had an anxious C whose anxious came out in grumpy contrariness. I was giving myself an A+ for handling it until I snapped in the late afternoon after walking with her and S along the beach from Q1 to near our hotel (about a kilometre) where both girls wanted to walk in the water and both girls got entirely soaked and sandy and I had a hoarse voice from calling to C to not be so far out and then we were talking about dinner and going to a restaurant for dinner as we had discussed as a whole family already and E had told that to her favourite daycare teacher as the thing she was actually most looking forward to but C started kicking off about not wanting to go anywhere from the hotel once we were back. I snapped. 

As it turned out, we did not go out to dinner.

Glenn had a fairly stressful Day 1, also, with children wanting to sit on him for pretty much the entire trip and then worrying about girls eating – not that I don’t worry about this, too, thank you, but I have also learned through much experience that food is lower on their list than all sorts of other things. If they’re playing, they will hardly eat. If they’re tired, small serves. If they have had a long trip and they know the beach is RIGHT THERE then they will eat the most minimal amount of food so they can be done with it and go to the beach. Then he also had the dinner brain in and so he was the one who went off to find takeaway for us to have in our hotel room on the balcony table that we brought inside and trying to serve it so we didn’t have noodles going everywhere and making sure girls had relatively fair serves of noodles and protein and veg so there weren’t fights over who had more broccoli and S please please please use a wipe not the bed to clean up your sauce.

To top it all off, girls were so exhausted that all three of them declared at 6pm – S I X P M – that they were tired and wanted to go to bed. S was asleep on her tummy right at the edge of her bed by 7 or so. C and E … not even close. So not even close that I don’t even know when it was they each fell asleep because I was actually curled up crying in our bed, overwhelmed by washed out hopes and the frustration of girls who can’t sleep after a big day. Bonus was S needed me during the night and so I ended up sleeping in her bed with her which would have been lovely but for all the wet sand that she had brought in with her when we came in after the beach. 

But then it was dawn and I am giving Day 2 an A. Dawn. Whole family photo in matching family Bluey pyjamas. Breakfast on the balcony, marvelling at how high we are. Visit to the hotel pool. Time in the very chilly water and photos and girls running on the grass and delighting in togs and beauty and water. 

And then there was the beach. The beach for hours. Sparkling waves. E terrified of the water after thinking the moving sand the day before was quicksand but then, bucket refill after bucket refill, getting more and more confident, confident enough to jump in the waves at the very edge a little bit, filling the air with screamsqueals of laughter. A delighted S running to and fro on the sand, making serious work of building sandcastle after sandcastle. Girls screaming with joy. 

C jumping to be in the water with me, and then we were in the water together and something shifted for us. Waist-deep in the water, jumping with the breaking waves, turning side-on to brace ourselves against the bigger waves, being in sparkling refreshing saltwater, being free, heart swelling.

Just holding my little girl who is approaching my shoulder height and remembering how little she used to be and realising how little she still is and feeling her trust in me and just holding her and realising that this – this experiencing the ocean with a child old enough to stand up and take this guidance – this was something I had wanted in my life. Not as something on my mental list for this particular holiday, but something as inner and longstanding as when I was a kid, I assumed I would have kids of my own and bring them to the beach and there are things you have to teach them and things you would do with them. Building sandcastles. Don’t flick a sandy towel. Jump at the water’s edge. Stay between the flags. Be in the water safely. Be a safe person for your child so they can cling to you in a range of emotions. Learn to – well, not quite bodysurf as I never really managed that, but be waist-deep in breaking waves and have waves breaking around you. I had not realised I had this need until we were in the midst of it and I had to savour the happy without succumbing to the happy tears and alarming all the other swimmers. It fixed C up, too, and she would have spent the entire day in there if I had let her.

But sun and hangry were beginning to overcome so we removed ourselves from this wonderful place and had our fancy (enough) restaurant meal for lunch before ice creams and starting the long but thankfully not nearly as long as the day before trip home. S was very much not happy with us for making home our real home and not our holiday house home so I copped it with her whole body frustration but when she had felt her feelings it got less bad. And then… then we were home. Home in time for Glenn to whip up a quick and relatively nutritious dinner to feed girls who were exhausted but, you know, still couldn’t sleep at a normal time but anyway. Home. Fed. Asleep eventually, with brains full of new experiences and new senses and new accomplishments and sand and water and salt and shells and sun and crashing waves and swimming pools and views to the mountains and the ocean. Such a break.

What We Read This Week (27/09/2025)

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You know when kids just get on a roll with a book? That’s all they want to read or have read to them. For three days. Or for a week. Or for, you know, 3 months. Not that I minded reading Ruby Red Shoes every night for 3 months when C was 2, but it is a memorable part of my ‘reading to children’ history. 

I feel we are in the same situation here now. Possibly. Frozen (aka “The Big Elsa Book”) has been going strong now for well over a month. The push-pull Snow White book (aka “E’s Snow White Book”) is enjoying a similar level of popularity. In fact, we went away for a couple of days this week and when I asked girls to pack one book each, those were the choices from S and E. C picked a Dragon Girls book. I don’t think she read any of hers, but the other two had a bit of Frozen while traveling, and E and S both had quiet moment of resetting with their favourite books.

S has also been asking a lot for We’re Going On A Bear Hunt. We will sometimes even be suddenly in a game of this while on the way to daycare. I will notice that her walk changes from just walking or just running or being Elsa to the pantomime of hunting and obstacles and I’ll hear her sweet voice in a sing-song of “We’re going on a bear hunt, I got my rinoculass”. Very cute. And when we join in, she is over the moon.

Another book that has found new favour is The Princess and the Wizard (Princess Eliza), a Julia Donaldson book but not illustrated by Axel Scheffler. Rather, Lydia Monks has done the illustrations and so it feels like it’s in a different world. C will read this one to the younger two, as well, doing all the voices to squeals of laughter. It has to be managed, shall we say, at bedtime. I might start a collection of Books That Are Only Allowed To Be Read Once, Maximum Twice, At Bedtime. So far: Princess Eliza, Pig the Fibber. On the Never At All At Bedtime Under Any Circumstances: The Book Without Words.

I am loving reading Anne of Green Gables to C. It was one of my favourite books when I was young. Admittedly, I was much older than C when I read it but I was reading it myself. I hadn’t realised what a slow start it was, but that is proving useful for setting up a scene for C. I see many similarities between my C and Anne. I think C has realised this, too, and loves having a character similar to herself but also is very thankful that she is not at all in the same situation in which Anne started. Side note, this particular copy is riddled with typos. I am not a book-mangler or noter, but I think I will be going through and correcting this one for future. I don’t know much about how publishing works, but come on. This is a classic. Anyway, two nights in a row now I have read a bit (or a lot) and C has been asleep within 5 minutes. Rare but welcome.

How Lucky Am I

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E starts big school next year and had her ‘get to know you’ meeting earlier this month and I can’t help thinking how lucky am I. 

How lucky am I that my girls can be educated. Not just can be, but are expected to be educated. How lucky am I that there is a valid option of free (mostly free) education here. Not just the free of a school that you use as a threat while you do what you have to and scrounge to send your kid to the not-horrible private school, but a state school that you don’t want to move away from, a state school that people move countries to be able to send their kids to. That’s our local. How lucky are we?!

This school has such a smooth entry into prep that my very anxious, only did daycare and preschool 2 days a week, did I mention very anxious? – C just sailed right on in without any dramas. Phew. E had a lovely getting to know you meeting with the guidance counsellor who has known us for, you know, well over two years and who has seen E grow from being two years old and strapped in a pram to being able to say she is four and a half and her favourite story (right now) from the Ultimate Disney Princess Treasury that she made me lug in as her favourite book is Aurora and Aurora’s story is at the back and here she’s getting a smoochy kiss from the prince to wake her up and she was asleep because she didn’t know what a spinning wheel looked like and it hurt her finger and Maleficent (said very clearly and carefully) was the bad fairy and there she is. 

As lovely as this interview was, I was also calmed by knowing that this was not an interview to see if they would consider E as a student. I didn’t have to promote her or coach her beforehand or direct her. There was a box of things in front of her, and she played with the doll a bit then attached building structures together and lined up and sorted little figurines then went to play with the blocks that were set up where she joined all the blue together and kept skipping back to check in and take off her sparkly shoes and pick up the doll again. Meanwhile, the grownups talked openly about neurodiversity and support options and brains and development and stimming. I’m fairly sure at least one, maybe five, members of our family fall into the neurodiverse brain category. Being able to talk about the way E is, not knowing where her brain lies in this, and be offered support and avenues and all with the hue of the more we know, the more we can help/accommodate/support a child, was a relief. A blessing. A comfort. How lucky am I that this didn’t come with any negativity or judgment or pursed lips or we need a diagnosis before anything or sorry. Just acceptance with a view to making it work out the best for everyone. 

How lucky am I that I can look forward to the start of school for her knowing that she will have supportive teachers. Knowing that she will know a few kids – kids from daycare who are also coming, kids from the park – and her best (same age) friend will be with her. How lucky am I that she has been practising with her lunchbox since last summer and that she has a big sister who is VERY keen for her to be with her at school and is telling her all about bits of school like playgrounds and classroom expectations and assembly. 

How lucky am I that I can send her off to school every day from next year knowing that I will see her again in the afternoon. How lucky am I that I can work without fear of a news broadcast while my children are at school. How lucky am I that I will worry, yes, and probably quite a bit, too, about all sorts of things with my E starting school, about behaviour and friends and regulation and friends and following rules and friends and playground dangers but none of those things at all ends with me running to school with no shoes on in fear of what I will find. None of those things ends with me crying with relief that it wasn’t my child or with devastation and heartbreak that it was my child. None of those things ends with me breaking devastating news to anyone, or holding one or more of my children close as we grieve together. None of those things.

How lucky am I that I can hold E close at bedtime and mention that I think she might be a bit nervous about big school and find out, yes, she is, because of one boy in the playground last year who made a rude face at her. How lucky am I that all the problems I foresee – about roughhousing boys and picky girls and teacher expectations – are all things I can predict and talk about and plan around. How lucky am I that fire drills and lockdown drills are going to be “storybooked” for her first, and highly unlikely to happen for real life unless it’s a science experiment gone wrong or a bit of weather. 

There is so much for which I am thankful as we stand at the cusp of this new era. As I look at it as an outsider might, I am astonished – where did these three girls come from? Are they all – mine?! And one of them is already at school and the second one is about to start are you for real?!?! I am amazed and delighted, even though this also comes with a hefty dose of worn out, but I feel I can tell my 20- and 30-year-old selves that THIS is coming up. This chaotic joyful bubbliness that is this life. It happens. It’s here. It’s tremendously hard, yet it fills me to overflowing with happiness and gratitude and delight. 

What We Have Been Reading (13/09/2025)

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The eagle-eyed among you, or the regular readers, may note a different title than usual. But you may have noticed I haven’t posted much for a little while, either, so that explains the former. Life has been busy – good busy, which really means I have had lots of work to do when children are sleeping, which cuts down on my writing time. (I have noticed, though, what a difference this writing makes to my life. The combination of alone-time without 15 ‘mummy’s a second, a cup of sanity tea, and the process of expressing myself and often working through problems as I write, just helps life.)

Books have featured heavily in our lives lately. There was Book Week. Which meant there was a lead-up to Book Week, too, with lots of reading. Last week had a pupil-free day and so my parents came down to see the girls and took them book shopping. C has been off school all this week and one of her screen-free activities was reading. Another was helping to tidy the girls’ room. C is a kid who needs very precise instructions, as well as a different take on things. “Tidying” doesn’t go down so well. I get the rolled eyes and body flop of “This is the worst, most boring thing in the world that you have asked me to do and I protest”. Ask her to make an area look nice, though, and she excels. If there are too many things in that – like, put the books away AND fold the blankets AND stack the cushions AND put all the little things that accumulate and drive me nuts and why do we even have them – those things in the pouches on the door, well, that’s just too much. Stick to one thing at a time and it works.

At the bookstore with my parents, S got right into it. Like we were at a library with no limits on loans. The stroller very quickly had a stack of books in it, then she sat down and had my dad read Peppa Pig stories to her for the rest of our time there. Which meant, unfortunately, that I put all her choices back and we got home to “Where’s my fish book?” – oops. Mum bought her Mr Archimedes’ Bath by Pamela Allen, and she has listened to it but not asked for again. E quite enjoyed it, though. Mum had a particular book in mind for C, a chapter book by David Walliams. Mum worried that it was too big for her. I raised an eyebrow and told her that the Penny books (Penny Draws A Best Friend and that series) that mum gave her the first one of, you know those really thick chapter books, C will read one of them in a weekend. Sure enough, C started her new book that afternoon and read it at every opportunity, finishing it before we left for a birthday party at 8.45am Saturday. She loved it.

E’s choice in the bookstore was a Snow White book. We already have two Snow White stories, one in the Ultimate Princess book and one as an early reader. I said no. The one E wanted was a simple board book version. I said no. E refused all other suggestions. I figured this was not a battle I needed. I relented. Guess which book has been the most-read, most-loved, taken-to-daycare (and home again) book. Yup. All the girls love it. It’s one of those board books with push/pull/slide, and the story words rhyme, and I put in extra bits for the action parts. E can’t read yet but knows all the words, and when she or C read it, they put in all the action parts, too. S has had screaming tantrums at bedtime because she wants E’s Snow White book. I have read it while sitting next to her. I have read it while sitting next to E. I have read it while sitting next to E and holding it up so C can see it from her bunk. I think… I think it was a good choice of book.

E has lately started ‘needing’ a story so she can sleep. Wait, after two stories she’ll be able to sleep. Yes, two stories and then she will sleep. Wait, because she is four now… After four stories, she promises she will go to sleep. And apparently, reading Pig the Fibber (one of the Pig the Pug stories that has recently come back into the limelight and has my girls squealing with laughter) four times doesn’t count as four. Humph. 

S is still obsessed with The Big Frozen Book and because C put all the books away I haven’t been able to find (yet) The Small Elsa Book. The Bluey Summer Treasury has also been pored over lately, as has The Very Hungry Caterpillar. C has been reading Geronimo Stilton as well as all the Roald Dahl collection. Also, C and I finished Little Women – apparently the last two chapters were booorrriinnggggg but I get that that was boring for a 7-year-old who has little experience of the world. I loved that it had several elements pertinent to our family, though, like the part where the girls decided to have a break from their chores and then their mother let them have it and it was chaos. Rather pertinent to our weekend, actually, as we have an inspection on Monday so my days are spent picking up Disney coins and hair bows and tissues and pencils and no you can’t do painting today because nobody cleans up afterwards and also could you please just this weekend please leave your quilts and pillows on your beds and maybe somebody could help me make this place just a tiny bit nicer so I can actually clean it before we have a total stranger coming in to take photos of our mess to send to the owners and WHO EMPTIED THE ACTIVITY TUB and OH MY WORD WHO PAINTED THIS ON THE WALL. Humph. Fortunately, even though C is the leader of “Don’t give away our toys”, she also really appreciates and relishes a calm/uncluttered/clear space, so when I put everything on her bunk into two (that’s right, TWO) large garbage bags to be stored FOR NOW in the wardrobe, she was ecstatic. 

Bonus of clearing spaces – girls can stretch out on the floor to read and choose books. Love. C and I are now reading Anne of Green Gables, which we started a while back but didn’t get very far. We are loving it this time around, though. It was always a favourite of mine and it is really something special to share a much-loved book with the next generation of readers.

Book Week 2025

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In my Catching Up post I promised a more expansive recounting of Book Week 2025, so here it is. First up I will mention that this only covers the younger two, as C’s school does the parade in fourth term, and I love that the school has recognised that Book Week is big and also when it falls – in the middle of term 3, right after Science Week and the Brisbane show holiday which is around when the school fair also happens, plus it’s the end of winter – might overload some kids or make Book Week and the love of reading just another thing to tick off the list in the middle of a busy term. 

Last year, I was probing Book Week ideas from about May. E was, after all, wanting Room on the Broom every single night from about then. She didn’t waver, and I made her a skirt and a cape for her to be the witch. Which, happily, doubled up for her Halloween costume later in the year. Win. S was tricky last year, but she did have a tendency to pick the Bob Bilby book, so having made beautiful items for E, I hemmed a length of light purple (lavender? Lilac?) material, cut a hole for the head, attached a pink panel, and sewed up a bit of each side while C helped me put bilby ears on a head band. Very simple and quick and didn’t quite make it through the day but that’s ok.

This year, I only started thinking about this in late June, early July. Just a question here or there when I’ve read the same story multiple times AND can see how I might manage a costume for a character. This year, I was sure I would be sending a princess along. E’s choice for a little while was Belle from Beauty and The Beast. The village Belle? (Which I can totally manage, no problem). No. Yellow Belle. The ballgown Belle. Ah. Not so simple. Pausing on that idea. Then I started asking S. Are you Slinky Malinki? NO, I’M S! Are you a princess? NO, I’M S! (Put that on repeat for maybe another five characters). Are you… Anna? (Pause, in which I see her straighten her back and feel E change next to me). YES I’M ANNA! E: mummy?    Mummy? I’ve changed my mind I want to be Elsa.

Rewind a few years, to C’s first Book Week at daycare, aged about 17 months, I guess. A parade of movie characters had me rolling my eyes and internally raging against dress up events and reading losing its meaning, yada yada yada. My kid would always go as a real book character. I’ll pause while you have a good chuckle.

In my defence, we already had a very simple Frozen book, “I Am Elsa”, but I had a look in Kmart for any others. “The big Frozen book”, as it’s called in our family, was found and bought and has been read most days. Yes, Anna and Elsa are movie characters. But also yes, they are also in books that are thoroughly enjoyed by my girls so who’s to get snooty about it? Ahem. 

In any event, before I had started any sewing, E did another “Mummy, wait. I changed my mind. I want to be a ballerina for Book Week”. Okay… we’ll have to find a book with a ballerina in it, then. “Yes. Can you write me one please”. Hahahahahahaha no. As we already had ballet costumes ready to go, this choice was a relief. We’ve borrowed books from the library with ballerinas in them so I wasn’t going to argue or fight over this one.

Last Friday, armed with a screenshot of a Frozen cake topper, I took E and S to Spotlight to find fabrics. They were quite wonderful in finding material to match the colours of the skirt, the bodice, the bag – wait. The bag? Anna has a bag in that cake topper so mummy can make a bag for the costume. We also found a ribbon to edge the bodice and pom pom trim for the cape. Exciting. Extra information, I had been allocated more than my stated capacity for extra work (you know, in my paid job), and taking on definitely one sewing project, maybe two or three rather heightened my stress level but also my organisational level but also entirely reduced my capacity to do basic household tasks like sorting washing. 

Daycare does two dress-up days for Book Week, as not every kid is enrolled every day. This year, dressing up could be, if they wished, Wednesday or Thursday. With the sewing I was doing, Thursday. Just Thursday. Thursday was great. Tuesday evening, E gets home and tells me with a very serious face – the sort of face I imagine she’ll have when I mess up the school calendar and think the science project is due next week instead of tomorrow – that they had to dress up tomorrow. Wednesday. Noooo. You can dress up Wednesday OR Thursday. OUR TEACHERS TOLD US TOMORROW. Thankfully, the Little Red Riding Hood costume I had bought for C when she was this age – the week that S was born and I caved and bought something instead of making but thank goodness it gets a lot of wear – was clean and wearable and still fitting E. Also thankfully, S didn’t insist on wearing a costume that day, too. Also, I love that we have two Little Red Riding Hood books.

Wednesday night, I finished sewing on the bodice ribbon and sewing the cape together and adding trim and doing buttons. (If you’ve been paying attention, I did not have time to make the bag.) I went to bed just before midnight, thoroughly happy with myself and my creation, and itching to see S’s reaction and wearing it in the morning. First thing in the morning I said, “It’s Book Week dress up today!” S: “I go as Mickey Mouse”. No. Noyoudon’t. When S saw the Anna outfit though, she did a gasp and “Is that my Anna?” One. Happy. Mummy. Getting dressed, and E got into her ballet costume fairly easily on her own while I put S’s dress over her head. S saw E. I tried to do up the snaps on the Anna dress. She refused to let me. “I WANT TO WEAR MY BALLET!” But you’ve been wanting to be Anna for ages! I knew I was tired and more invested in a dress than perhaps I should be so I walked out to take some deep breaths. Glenn came in to save the day with early birthday presents (dinosaur heads with a lollipop inside) and S was then more than happy to wear her Anna dress and cape and look at the love hearts and pockets and IT’S GOT POM POM POM POMS! 

I am happy to report that she was in character for much of our trip to daycare. I managed to get some lovely action-in-nature shots of her. We opened the door to her daycare room and were met with a sea of colourful polyester and I felt even better. One of her birthday presents was a purchased Elsa tutu dress which she wore all of Friday and Sunday but then Sunday evening it came off and she wanted her Anna dress on. And the cape has been worn several times – I mean, who wouldn’t want to wear a pom-pom trimmed cape?! 

There have been many articles this year about Book Week and is it losing its meaning and is it too much stress on parents and kids. In those years when I wasn’t aware when it would be, I always got a surprise – but then managed a costume with what we had around. Looking ahead and finding out when it will be and planning costumes, though, is part of the happiness of parenting for me. One thing I absolutely love about Book Week is talking about books with my girls for weeks or months beforehand, and finding out more about THEM. What style of book are they into. How do they imagine an outfit for this character will look. If we were in that world, what would they have around them. I absolutely love this insight into the brain of each of my girls. Thank you, Book Week.

Catching Up – July/August 2025 Edition

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I just counted, and I have seven posts begun but not posted. That is, begun recently and not posted. Writing has been hard to do. Checking what I’ve written before I post has been, apparently, very hard to do. I often have a crying S wanting me to give her bum pats from just after 4am, and even though she settles quickly, I am not allowed to *stop* giving her bum pats. Eventually, I am permitted to lie down on the little sofa – you know those little foam ones? – which is proving less and less comfortable. But I take what I can!

A brief highlights reel from the last month or so.

The girls all had haircuts. For S, this was her first time. E and C had previously asked for “Mummy cuts”, and E had been asking (at wildly inopportune times) for another cut for ages. Eventually one weekend we did it. S had been asking for a haircut, too, and as she had masses of curly hair – think Merida from Brave – then I thought it would be wise. Especially as brushing hair was her least favourite time of the day. So she had a haircut, too, and then looked at me reproachfully for a couple of days with “You cut my curly hair”. I can tell how untrained the haircuts are, but as one of their friend’s mums got in touch the other day to ask where we go, maybe they’re not so terrible after all.

I redid the girls’ bedroom. During the school holidays, C led the way in “making a big mess”, as S recounted over the next few weeks. All the clothes were pulled out of the shelving in the wardrobe and all the books brought into the room and all of it was all over the floor along with whatever toys they felt like adding to this mix and, after leaving the scene and doing some kettle bell work (that whole heavy work thing helps so much for me), came back and asked C WTF. I mean, sorry, WHYYYYY. And it turned out that she just didn’t like how they had their clothing in shelves in the wardrobe. As that had been a “We’ll see how we go with this” solution at the time, I agreed to sort out something new. Something new turned out to be the shelving in the wardrobe coming out and holding books in their bedroom, and a new set of drawers in between the bunk beds and the cot. Where my desk used to be. 

So, related, I no longer work in the girls’ room. I currently set myself up at the dining table and pack everything up into our bedroom when not working. No, this is not ideal. However, the payoff has been calmer girls. Their room is less crowded. E’s way of getting into bed is far easier. Having books in their room has meant I often walk past and see all girls reading quietly or playing library. Once one of them is ready in the morning they are more likely to pick books over fighting over the little annoying junky toys which I hate with a passion but keep somehow coming into our household to be fought over. They have a calmer room and they are calmer. It was a tradeoff in my working environment that is well worth it.

I had a birthday. It was absolutely lovely. I mean, it started abruptly at 4.12am with a vomiting S who then was AWAKE but that just meant more birthday to enjoy, right? I had cuddles and snuggles so, yes. I even managed a 15-minute nap on my own! That is to say, I was on my own in bed for about 12 and a half minutes before one girl after another came in and then it was just funny and my favourite photo of the day is one Glenn took of me with my three girls all in the bed together. Glenn made me fantastic food all day and took the girls to the shops for a whole hour and a half and it was bliss.

C started an extra Irish dancing class a week, leading up to maybe doing a competition. Now I have to finish work early on a Monday and take her off to class, which I really enjoy. It makes it a bit tricky with work, but not overly so. Speaking of dancing, I have finally made inquiries about E (and realistically, S) starting ballet. Wow. That is such a big statement for so few words. They are both also really keen for Irish dancing, but logistically I just can’t make that work before they start going to school. E has been proving herself to be – for a long time, this is – a beautiful and enthusiastic dancer. Not just ballet, either, although about a year ago the daycare teachers were just assuming she was having lessons because of the way she would play. She will also just start dancing like she is onstage with a rock band or – yeah it’s usually rock for her, but one of my favourite E quotes from recent times was after C and I had asked Siri to play some Paris Combo. After a bit, E came to me in the kitchen and asked, “Mummy what IS this music? It’s making my bum want to dance”. So I am super hoping that she will be able to start ballet as well as jazz and tap.

This last week has been bonkers. Book Week. S’s birthday. School Fair. I have been feeling like SuperMum all week, which has been nice but also just a teeny bit stressful with getting everything done in order to fee like SuperMum. I was going to give a big Book Week rundown but might save that for another post. (I shared my sewing in my @annalikesmaking Instagram if you’re on the gram and want a peek). But, I sewed a dress and a cape for S to be Anna from Frozen, as well as doing an enormous amount of paid work, as well as S having a birthday (VERY lowkey), as well as baking a slice for the school fair, as well as restocking the freezer with baked oatmeal and brownies and muffins. Then taking the girls to the school fair ON MY OWN because Glenn had a gig for Friday and Saturday. Goodness me. I am finishing this on Sunday morning and I am very, very hopeful I can take the girls to church so they don’t bicker at home and I can get some time for me and talk to some grownups possibly about not-children and not-school and just BE in that space. Our whole family needs it.

Meal Prep Monday (21/07/2025)

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Not much happened this week by way of meal prep or snack prep or however you want to classify this. I have been sick. The girls have been a little bit on the edge but not too drastic, really. I have felt like I did when I had Covid nearly exactly three years ago, just not as bad, which is not surprising as I’m not currently 35 weeks pregnant. So. Not much happened.

I did manage to make chocolate chip cookies as a preventative measure. For girls, not me. I also made some Everything Balls as a preventative measure. For me, and apparently everyone. I love that this happens. I was halfway through rolling them into balls when S came into the kitchen for something like a third mandarin and just snaffled a ball. Glenn ate one of the mini cups last night and before I had finished covering the tops in chocolate tonight, he ate another. These are guaranteed to be eaten if I pack them in C’s lunchbox, so long as the she has eaten her sandwich (I have passed down certain traits for sure). 

Sandwiches and hard boiled eggs were also made today, but the eggs will have to find another way to be cooked as the best hotplate for them is suddenly cactus and only knows about off and full. Eye roll. 

I am having a good think, but I really think that is it for this weekend. In my defence, apart from the stupid sickness thing, one of my plans had been to use up our unexpected mandarin glut. I was still tossing up between mandarin marmalade and mandarin bread when E decided she was going to eat mandarins for afternoon tea one day and went through four of them and S is a great mimic so she had a few as well and suddenly we have not enough for anything much. Good.

How We Shop

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I think I have mentioned somewhere here that we live right next to the shops. As in, looking out the girls’ bedroom window, you can see into the carpark of the shopping centre. We live on the “wrong” side, though, as we are relegated to a single staircase for entry. No problem before we had kids. Very annoying problem when we used a pram, as we would either carry the pram and child and everything else up or down the stairs, or go the long way which is along the long bit of our street and down the busy road and crossing at the lights and past cafes and shops and around the corner and past all sorts of life and then into the shopping centre via the ramp. Then home again, which is then all uphill and sunny. Ugh. 

Now that we can do no pram and even sometimes no stroller, we can take the girls through the convenient staircase. This has been a wonderful development in our lives. The problem is coming home, though, when we are faced with a descent with minimal rails for holding. For smaller people, this is quite intimidating, and I am often suddenly dealing with a child frozen to a step, refusing to move anything for fear of tumbling down. The number of things I have carried down those steps! The number of kind people who have helped me carry things down those steps!

Then we are on a stretch of road with a wide footpath but girls tend to treat it as a place to fight. Which side of the stroller they are “meant” to be on. How fast they can race even though I’ve asked them not to. Who can scale the wall (the germs!!!) at all, or more than the others. Ugh. And there are just enough cracks and holes in the pavement for it to be necessary for younger ones to still hold onto my hand or a hand or the stroller because guaranteed there will be a trip from at least one child along there.

That’s, of course, after the actual shopping bit. The actual shopping bit has turned horrible lately. Maybe it always was but I could just bear it more easily. Maybe it is actually that girls’ behaviour is becoming more pronounced, more wilful, and more independent which is great, I know this, but I am also aware of other people and I am tired. I’m tired of asking kids to behave one way and being ignored. I’m tired of apologising to people because we are blocking the aisle or one kid is riding the basket and not looking where she’s going or pushing the basket along the floor at high speed. I’m tired of kids being insistent on what we buy and then wailing or screaming when we aren’t buying it. I’m tired of buying 10 yoghurt pouches even after the free fruit for kids because after the fruit girls then want yoghurt and then more yoghurt. I’m tired of being worried that the next person won’t be lovely, because they’re not always. 

A few weeks ago, when we had had an enforced shopping trip because we were out of milk – disaster – I had a think. C had definitely not wanted to go and I am determined to move away from “I’ll buy you x if you come”. S had been a bit on the snotty side so that’s another level of wariness when shopping. No girls had stopped when I asked them to stop. They had some sort of competition that I couldn’t work out but was getting them in the way of other shoppers and preventing them from listening to me at all. Nearly finished, and E was suddenly busting. Sigh. 

Once we were home and unpacked and girls were eating again, I had a think. Why is this so hard? I’m making them do something boring. Even with behaviour expectation reminders, that doesn’t make them suddenly want to do this. Their behaviour is telling me they don’t want to do this so they will do their best to make it fun in their own way which happens to be tricky for me to navigate around unknown entities. Right. How can we change this.

Home delivery. 

I used to think home delivery was for rich people, or rich sick people, or rich lazy people. So. Wrong. (I’m sorry! A thousand apologies!) Yes, it costs us a little bit more to shop this way. But no, not nearly as much as I feared it would be. And I am so willing to pay that small amount to be able to shop this way. From home. Without the dramas of children. 

Said children, by the way, love this. They love having deliveries. They love having a knock at the door. They love looking in a bag and finding something – anything – that I’ve ordered. Apples! Juice boxes! Tissues! CHEESE! And it is much easier to find a willing helper to put something – anything – away. In fact, I usually find myself with helpers before I have even asked. And if not, well, it’s really not hard to put it away myself. Our place is notatall big.

Shopping in an app also brings online only specials and app-only specials. I can see boosted items more easily without trying to work out if the extra points for buying that item instead of another that is cheaper per 100g is worth it while also trying to stop a 2yo from pulling out all the items with green labels or listening to the pleading for something from a 7yo that is being copied by a 4yo then finding the 2yo has dropped half her free banana on the floor and is picking up bits to put in her mouth before I notice. I can add items to the cart whenever. Sudden brain cell just before I go to sleep – ooh, add it to cart. Conversation with Glenn after E and S are asleep – I’ll just find that now and there they are, in the cart. Waiting for files to show up at work – get onto that shopping. 

Another bonus, which I was hoping for but, you know, “home delivery is for rich people” got in the way: limits and saving money. Having shops right next to us has meant convenient shopping. We’re out of milk? Okay, better get some more and also while we’re there… Or, today I feel like sausages for dinner – okay, get over there and buy what you need. When we are well stocked at home, though, this is a luxury in which we have indulged. Now we are getting much more into the zone of, we’re not getting a delivery until Friday and today is Wednesday so what are we going to feed children for dinner? We still have this and this so why don’t we make that into this? Perfect! No more of that popcorn that was only bought because it was a half price special? Oh well. We’ll see if it’s on special next week and then I might (or might not) buy some more. Have a piece of fruit instead if you’re hungry. 

And yes, this has reduced our grocery bill. I didn’t do any official calculations before we started home delivery, but it was around the $350 mark I think, sometimes considerably more if it was a week of buying laundry detergents and olive oil. Now it is hovering around $250-300, a number I like much, much more.

Now, I love a good list, as you may well know. Keeping one on the fridge is no longer an option – our girls are tall and artistic – but we have Apple. We’ve had a “children quotes” shared note for some time now, and I made a shared note for shopping. I call it our master shopping list. Everything we buy, vaguely sorted in sections, goes on the list. If we are running low on something, one of us puts an emoji next to it on the list and when I am doing a shopping order, I look for it. Some things can definitely wait until they are on special so have had an emoji for a couple of weeks now, but some other things make it onto the top-up shop that I order for Monday or Tuesday, depending on when Glenn is working. 

Now please excuse me. I have to finalise a delivery order.

Meal Prep Monday (14/07/2025)

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A few things happened this weekend. Friday was the Friday for a fortnightly funky food farm box of fruit and veg. I add a dozen eggs to this order because we love eggs. By the time we came home from the park at lunchtime, it was waiting for us at our front door. S very enthusiastically carried the eggs to the kitchen while I watched helplessly until she had speedily and carefully put them on the bench. 

Then through some glitch in the system, the other dozen eggs I had ordered to be delivered from Woollies – first extra large, then I had to change it to large, then that wasn’t in stock so it would be jumbo – well, it made me feel like a magician. Or more accurately, a magician’s assistant, most likely a volunteered audience member, as I found not one, not two, but three dozen jumbo eggs in our delivery. 

Having 48 eggs did affect my weekend food plans, I must admit. That, and the other thing that happened which was the hot water system beeping every 10 seconds on Saturday. Every. Ten. Seconds. No. Matter. What. It turned out to be needing a battery change. Yes, this was the day I found out they have batteries and yes, I had asked the internet and ChatGPT for help, and no, nobody told me this until our real estate phoned me and told me. Thank goodness we had some of the right size battery in stock. But this did mean that irritability was high, and that Saturday washing was put on hold. Baking took over.

So. Friday dinner was salmon bake from my childhood (5 eggs). Saturday morning breakfast was scrambled eggs (7 eggs). I made “sheet pan eggs”, as this person calls it, which is usually in our household baked by Glenn in a round pan and called eggy pizza. Same deal, though – lots of eggs (10), lots of vegetables, a bit of cheese, baked until set. Great for breakfast or lunch or a snack. Great to have on hand for when you ask a 4yo what they want for breakfast after the time you actually normally like everyone to be eating breakfast and the 4yo says enthusiastically, “eggy pizza”, and the first reaction is, “but it’s too late for that”, but the second reaction is, “but that’s okay because I made some on Saturday!” This one had broccoli, cherry tomatoes and capsicum in it. Also to be mentioned in the delivery oddity was an extra bag of frozen strawberries, which I hadn’t really wanted in the first place, either (I was aiming for raspberries). S helped me make strawberry and chia jam with some of our bonus strawberries. I made chocolate chip zucchini strawberry muffins (2 eggs) – these are a new favourite, I think – and zucchini and blueberry baked oatmeal (2 eggs). 

Sunday was prepping some sandwiches for school lunches. Today, with E home with me and both of us not well, I boiled some eggs (4 eggs) and made some chocolates. I think of them as “loaded chocolates”, as they are dark chocolate mixed with a hefty dollop of nut butter, and combined with, in this week’s batch, dried blueberries. There are, um, not as many now as were made this afternoon…

With other fried eggs for breakfasts, our 48 eggs are down to 12, which seems like quite a normal number, and I feel well-stocked for lunches and snacks and breakfasts. For now.