first five years

Keeping Mum

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Instructions for motherhood. Eat plenty of healthy foods while pregnant. No, not that much. Exercise regularly during pregnancy. No, not that way. And not that much. Be consistent in your everything. But also, you need to be flexible and recognise that everything changes all the time. Talk to your baby as much as possible. This is how they learn language. Don’t use so many words when talking to your child. They can’t take it in. It overwhelms their brain. 

It’s this last one that I have been working on lately. Maybe a month before Christmas, I stopped. Not entirely, of course. But my verbal output has drastically reduced. Here’s why and what I have noticed as a result.

The why. Have you seen the episode of Bluey (yes, there’s an episode for everything) called Show and Tell? Well, that’s why, in a nutshell. Grownups talk too much. Kids can’t take in all those words. Minimise the words to maximise the understanding. Well, not so much understanding as engagement and connection. They have better things to do, and even if their body is trained to stay still and listen and say an appropriately-timed “Okay” or “Yes” or “Sorry”, their brain has really moved on.

Further to the why, though, is the why for me now. I mean, I’ve been a huge fan of Bluey since C started watching it during lockdown. And I have been reading parenting posts on social media for quite some time now in order to glean all the helpful tips I can without going the next step of enrolling in a child psychology course. I thought I was fulfilling the “talk but not too much” criterion of parenting. I was still, though, frequently saying (please don’t judge me I’m still learning) phrases like, “Am I talking to myself here?”, and “Is anybody listening to me?” Bonus, E is in the 4-year-old girl phase of super chatty combined with the lack of impulse control from E and S that means that I am interrupted allllllll the time. Reducing my output has reduced my frustration at being interrupted and at not being heard 

Also in the why for me now category is volume control. I am trying soooooo hard to reduce my shouting. Yelling. Raising my voice. For a huge number of reasons, most of which I think will be bleedingly obvious so I won’t waste anyone’s time here, but also, C is super sensitive to loud sounds so any shouting just upsets her and doesn’t have any other effect, and also, shouting has no effect. Kids don’t magically listen if the volume is raised. Kids don’t instantly stop doing the thing that made the shout happen. Often, they just keep going but now think it’s a game and isn’t that fun. My number one job of keeping them safe needed a better way.

I took inspiration from Mrs March in Little Women. Hold it in. Keep mum. Purse those lips. If necessary, do something else with my body, like rage washing or rage cleaning or rage sorting. She doesn’t call it that, of course, but the result is the same. 

There was also the What If making me still talk a lot of What if they are about to do something that will hurt them or another? But you know what? We are into the learn by doing stage. It has other names, too, but I’m not going to type them here for my mum to read (Hi mum!). The general idea is, do what you can to keep your kids safe but there will come a time when they’re just going to do what they want anyway and then they can find out for themselves why it was a not recommended course of action. Like, if you climb on those rocks, cool, but when you fall off (which you will because I know you don’t have that much rock climbing experience or balance capability just yet) then you’re going to fall into that big mud puddle there and being muddy isn’t a sensory experience you enjoy. Oh look at that. You fell. You’re muddy. You’re screaming about being muddy. The Old Me would have then given the lecture. The, “See? This is why I said not to climb on the rocks. I could see” – and honestly, I’m bored by myself. Poor kids. New Me: “Yep. You’re muddy. Shall we try to clean you up here or head home now?”

This approach of minimal talking has become most apparent at bedtimes. Bedtimes, when I am still on and haven’t been able to do much of anything for me or on my own since a walk (ideally) around 6am. Bedtimes, when I have been trying so hard all day to be thoughtful and caring and curious about what on earth led them to do that thing that ended up with everyone in tears. Bedtimes, when I’m actually just wanting to curl up in bed myself because it’s actually really hard to function every day on an average of less than five hours’ sleep a night for years. 

Keeping mum started out for me as a little experiment. Did it make a difference. Did it reduce my shouting. Did it reduce my stress. Did it reduce my guilt. Did it make bedtimes easier. The answer? A resounding “yes” to all of these. Especially yes to reducing the guilt. That may sound strange, but when you talk more, you say more, and if you’re at the end of your tether, it’s easier to let words slip out that are regrettable, that you hope were words that were ignored like so many other words but you can never tell, can you. Three years from now you may have a kid saying, “Remember that time when I was four and a half and you said you wanted to run away and join the circus because at least animals go to sleep when they’re tired”. Not that I’ve ever said that, but you get the idea. Children don’t hear a word that you want them to hear. Children hear things when you think they’re not listening.

I feel I should spell out, though, that this hasn’t meant I have stopped talking altogether. In fact, I don’t think anyone has even actually noticed my reduction in wordiness except for me. More importantly, though, the important things are definitely still said on a daily basis. I love you. I’m so glad you’re with us. I’m so glad I get to be your mummy. 

There are newer snippets that I am trying to work in, too, thanks to my parenting gurus on social media. I’m feeling very frustrated right now so I’m going to do some deep breaths and try to push the wall away. I got so worked up earlier today, but you helped me so much by just being calm next to me so I could take deep breaths and calm down, too. 

And my new personal favourite (from Nurtured First) because I don’t think I’ve been explicit enough in sharing with my girls that I can handle all their emotions (because, to be brutally honest with myself, I don’t deal very well with the bigger emotions) and that I love them always and forever, no matter what: 

I love you when you’re happy. I love you when you’re mad. I love you when you’re silly. I love you when you’re sad.

Cold Turkey

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There’s been a change. A big change. My kids have been addicted – and I mean full-scale, outrageously, what have I done to my kids, addicted – to screens. It became our way of life, of coping, of persuading, of cajoling. And I hated it. I didn’t know my girls anymore, except for their tastes in shows. Our place is a mess and even more frustratingly so, is a giant mess of things that are not played with except in passing. Why bother having toys and activities for children who just stare at a screen all day? 

Behaviour, too, was becoming problematic. Some of it could be attributed to their ages and the normal developmental milestones that come with these particular ages. S, for example, is in a “First, no”, stage, where whatever you offer or ask is replied with a “NO”, even if it’s something she loves. Fun times. But behaviour which is demanding and needing something now and not being able to wait or focus or listen to real people or negotiate in play? Problematic, and causing my stress levels to escalate. 

I was doing lots of reading about the effects of screens on kids. I was seeing lots of helpful ways to ease them off screens. I was starting to work some of these things into our lives. It felt about as effective as watching grass grow. But all the advice was, ease them into it, remember they have to learn new skills and you have to learn new ways, too. Be kind to yourself and to them. 

Cool, cool.

Also, there’s the parenting advice of don’t make empty threats. Make a consequence (not punishment, we don’t use that word anymore do we) that fits the behaviour you’re wishing to change, and then make sure you follow through. Great.

Now. Let’s look at a few of weeks ago. S had napped at daycare. Groan. E and S were bouncing off the walls not going to sleep that night. I tried all sorts of things, pulling snippets from SO MANY posts I have read recently. Nothing worked. Even if something started to work with one of them, the other one would start giggling or playing and set off the one who was starting to settle. I couldn’t stay in the whole time. They were happy, for sure, and as I started to do some work I could hear “Next patient!” At nearly 8.30, I was back in their room and just lying on the floor crying while they stuffed around. Glenn came in and said very sternly, “No. More. IPad. Ever.” And walked out.

S lay down straightaway and was asleep within 3 minutes. E took a whole lot longer because she’d listened to the words. Like, just for tomorrow morning? Are we giving it away? Can we get a new one then? You mean – we can’t use the iPad??? Mostly in order to get her to sleep, I said they may be able to earn it back. I must admit, it’s been more than four weeks and I haven’t worked out an Earn Your iPad system yet…

Do my girls sleep better at night? Um, no. I haven’t been able to sew much for some time now. I feel worn out to the point of taking time off work yesterday in order to deal with the things I needed to do for E and then sleep. Do they still demand something right now? yesBUT I am pleased to report that I am more able to respond with a soon or a not now or a you’re next and that they are better able to accept it and wait. When the answer is actually no, C and E are much much better at responding with, “Oh, okay”, without pleading or whining or sulking about it.

Do my girls still want to be on the iPad first thing? Sigh. Yes. But not always. They know now that they won’t get to watch it during eating time, either, and I may have that question asked of me once a weekend. Maybe twice, but the response is never argued with.

Admittedly, this has not been the cold turkey change I had thought we were doing. C, not a perpetrator in the particular bedtime battle that started this, and also being a Big Girl who has homework that requires screen time, is allowed to use the iPad in the evenings. Also if girls are at daycare and she has done everything we ask of her. A few weeks ago, S was too sick for daycare so, in order for me to be able to work at least a little bit, she was allowed on during the day. I’m now, shall we say, adept at finding Christmas Elsa, Blue Elsa, Let It Go Elsa and Ice Elsa. Sometimes when girls have been awake super early (4am is now light so days start early) and I have really needed to get work done, I have relented and let the iPad come out. Generally, though, the iPad is not a Big Thing anymore.

Which has meant that I can watch a movie with them on the weekend and really enjoy it. All of us watching together, for the most part. Snuggles happen. Fast-forwarding of scary bits happen. More snuggles and cuddles and hand holding and hair stroking and just enjoying this experience. Screens are back to where they should be, as a treat and Sometimes Thing and not a right. I still feel like I need about eight times more Me Time in the day, but I have reduced the Mum Guilt by a LOT and I am enjoying being a mum soooo much more.

What We Read This Week (18/10/2025)

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Is this a 4-year-old thing? I don’t remember C doing it, so I am not convinced. Child is almost – almost – asleep. There have been several long  slow eye blinks. Then, “Mummy. Two makes me fall asleep. I promise.” Oh. You’re not asleep. So you read two books, then, “Mummy? Actually, five makes me fall asleep. This one first”, holding out Fox in Socks, or Wish for a Fish, or anything that is not at all short and actually gives my mouth a workout to be able to read it. Where did that sleep train go? Was there an announcement or did it just sail right on by?

It’s been a week like that. Consequently, there was a hefty stack of books to be cleared near the bed. Never Pop a Penguin. Wish for a Fish. Letters from Felix. Pig Out. Easter Bunny Egg Hunt. Let’s Go Home, Baby Bee. The Little Mermaid. Plus library books. The girls chose a good selection this week. A Very Wiggly Christmas, and I am told each time who is who and what is what as soon as possible. Dreaming, which is a beautiful example of Aboriginal culture and Dreamtime and passing knowledge and culture to the next generation, as well as being a dreamy book for bedtime. Ten Minutes To Bed, Little Koala, which still has all the flaps and has a lovely sleepy koala at the end. Robin Robin, which is a book version of the Netflix movie by the same creators as Wallace and Gromit. C liked that one so much she had snuck it onto her bunk for the week.

And, my new all-time favourite book, Sleeping Handsome and the Princess Engineer. I have not read it every day, but that is because it is just too funny for bedtime. I have, though, read it several times at bedtime, anyway. It’s just that good. As the title suggests, it’s Sleeping Beauty with a few twists, and my feminist, raising strong and resilient girls mind loves it. 

C has branched out a bit this week. She is still loving all the Geronimo and Thea Stilton books she can get her hands on, but at her school library borrowing session last week, she picked up a graphic novel in the Amulet series and got into it. At the library, she found one and that was her afternoon sorted. Every morning this week, instead of asking to play a game on the iPad, she has just started reading in bed. Her Where’s Wally Now prize book, and now Kiki Kallira, a hefty chapter book by Sangu Mandanna, which is very exciting. Whenever I go in to let her know breakfast is on the table, she will tell me in as much depth as I will allow what the latest exciting development is.

We are still reading Anne of Green Gables and thoroughly enjoying it. The only problem is that C wants to change her hair colour and length to match Anne. I was not expecting this.

Weekend Rundown

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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.

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.