life

A Simple Birthday Party

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

A few months ago: E – “for my 5 birthday party, I want”… Me: Sure.

About six weeks ago: Me – “We’d better start working out what you would like for your birthday party”.  E – “I don’t want a birthday party. I just want like what S had for her 3 birthday. That cake with strawberries”. Me: Sure. Are you sure? Because I don’t want us to get to your birthday and you decide you want a party after all. 

Hahahahahahaha

There was much flip-flopping. She wanted a party. She didn’t want a party. She wanted a party but NOT inviting these two people. She wanted a party and inviting kids from her class – remembering that school started at the end of January – who she had not told me she had ever played with. She didn’t want a party. She wanted a party.

Eventually, I took the reins. Party, BUT the whole class is invited as we are absolutely NOT playing favourites in prep at all, really. Play date at the park for whoever can come on relatively short notice and I am just bringing a cake. No food. No drinks. No games. No balloons and streamers and all the other stuff. Just. Cake. 

It couldn’t be the weekend before her birthday as that was too soon. Despite the ominous forecast for rain, rain and more rain, that meant the weekend after her birthday. Saturday is ballet in the morning – and at least three other girls in her class do Saturday morning ballet, too – and there was a school disco in the evening. Saturday was not looking great for a birthday party. Sunday. Sunday? Sunday. Glenn will be working all day but as it’s just a play in the park and I’m just bringing cake, this will be fine. Right? Yep. Fine. No problem at all.

Hahahahahahaha

This turned out to be the limit of what I could handle. The number of times I pulled the “Am I cancelling this birthday party?” card out. The number of tears that I shed as various things pushed me over the edge. The number of times I muttered to myself about the futility of trying to ice a cake in February in Brisbane what was I thinking why do I forget this every year. The stress I felt held over from the last birthday party, for C’s 6th birthday when we forgot a knife to cut the cake, the stress exacerbated by me starting to pack the things we needed for the cake like the cake knife and candles and matches WHERE ARE THE MATCHES sobbing and feeling like even the most basic party is beyond me it’s just a cake how hard is it?!

I found the matches.

I got three girls and one cake and one bag of cake-related necessities and 3 bags containing 30 party bags to the park. And girls started playing and kids started arriving and having a big play at the park, as I had hoped they would. Parents got to know each other. I found out most of the parent names and forgot at least a third of them. E played with two kids she’s never mentioned playing with before. I loved hearing her say over her shoulder as she got up and started running, “I’ve got to get more enchantments for the campfire”. In fact, E was having so much fun that when I found her and said I thought it was probably time we did the cake her response was, “No, thanks. I want to keep playing”.

Thankfully, she found me about 28 seconds later to say, “Actually, I changed my mind. I want cake now”. Thankfully, I had a mum take a photo of me with my girls instead of it just being me taking a photo of the girls. Thankfully, a mum stood next to me and helped me dole out cake and told each child to take it and sit under a tree so by the time every child had had a slice and some had had seconds, I looked up to see eight kids sitting on the big roots of a Moreton Bay fig tree with dappled sunlight splashing through as they all ate cake. Thankfully, people had to head off after cake and I wasn’t left being the Bad Mum who was actually having to drag her children away from her own child’s birthday party because dinner isn’t going to happen by staying at the party. Thankfully, one family coordinated their children and their own parents and their dogs and took one child home and came back with their car to ferry home all the presents. Thankfully, Glenn called on his way home and prepped a very simple dinner so girls could come in and wash hands and rip open presents oh my goodness me the presents and then eat and wash and go to bed and not sleep until stupid o’clock because what a day.

It was simple. It was more stressful than I anticipated. It was lovely. It was actually just what we wanted it to be. A simple birthday party for our E.

Linguistic Quirks

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

The main reason I started this blog was to document the now for our family. The big things like dropping naps and sleeping through and starting school, but also the little things, like the differences in how my children go to sleep or the way they like their food.

We are currently in a linguistic phase that I love. I know I should be doing gentle reminders of the way it should be, but honestly, my linguistic training taught me that that will come without me interfering anyway, probably. But the double past tense is here in E and I love it. And there are a few things that have disappeared that I knew would disappear but … small sob. I miss them.

Double past tense gems, that are probably really just gems for Glenn and me, but things like “gotted”. “I gotted some more popcorn but then I spilleded it”. “I slepted all night in my own bed”.  “I forgotted what I wanted to say”. “I wented downstairs without my shoes on and I gotted a prickle”.

Farewell to little turns of phrase that still are with me, like “by my own”. “I did it by my own” will likely remain with me for years to come. “The balloon has blown down” is one that actually will probably never leave us. When C started saying it as a toddler, my natural instinct was to correct, but what do you correct it to? She was perfectly correct. I have to really think about it to work out how to say “The balloon has shrunk” as what I would have said pre-C. “Another one more” has been like a little wisp of smoke that I can’t catch, but hearing “May you please give me another one more cookie”, for example, is a phrase that just melts my heart.

And there are little things that are just little things but make me smile every time. Like hearing E or S say – not putting it on, this is just how they say it – “Aww that is so adawable” – I mean, the way they say it is so adorable. Hearing E or S announce, “That is so hilarious”, or S declaring, “That’s wild”. When they think about it or are corrected, E and S will say “hotel” (or more accurately, hotail), but left to their own brains, it’s “fairytale”. “When we stayed at the white fairytale”. I have lots of “crickles”, which is what S says for freckles despite numerous attempts at correction. Which is fine for me, but when she says with a big smile to another dance mum, “You have crickles just like my mummy” and the dance mum thinks she means wrinkles and is not smiling quite so much anymore… quick explanation and she was back to smiling but oof.

When E started dancing towards the end of last year, she had ballet (or ballaig, as S calls it) then, according to class schedules, jazz and tap. Not for E. Jasmine tap. Which she totally adored, and even picked a jasmine flower to give to her teacher the next week. It took a few goes, but she (sigh) now does jazz and tap, very carefully, after ballet.

I didn’t notice it until daycare staff mentioned it in January, but they’re right – kids don’t use words they haven’t heard. So if a kid is saying multisyllabic words, it means they’re hearing them somewhere. Hopefully from parents and not so much from screens. The conversation with the staff then had me noticing all the times E will say something like, “It’s so soopendously hot”. It sure is, kid. It sure is.

S still comes in for cuggles. E still has huggles. All girls have BFF neckerlaces. Bracerlets are precious and definitely owned by their owner and returned to their owner if ever found in a random place. The last few days we haven’t needed sun scream because of the rain. S likes the ghosters at Halloween. I tell you all of this on Valentimes Day, when growmups did smoochy kisses and dinner was love heart pasta with parsley pesto and cherries and drizzled in olib oyal … or is it oller boil? So hard to distinguish. 

I know I have missed some. I know they will disappear, at least mostly. But my goodness me, I love these elements of language and childhood, so fleeting and precious.

When It Gets Real

/ annamurray / 2 Comments

Week 1 of school is a bit unreal. Everyone is getting used to everything. Activities haven’t started just yet. Kids are shellshocked as they adjust to this whole school thing. Parents are shellshocked as they adjust to this whole school thing. Teachers are smiling and hopeful and being calm beacons in the sea of new. 

Week 2 can hit hard. The shine has come off. Heads down. Meal prep queen on board. Routines. Canva printables for said routines. Pictures, gotta have pictures. Rules. Blowback on said rules. Here’s a snapshot of our mornings this week so when you feel like asking any family with school-aged kids how the adjustment to school is going, you can be prepared for, you know, likely answers.

Monday.

No screens before breakfast. I am the worst mother in the WORLD. C set up a garden for us with felt pieces I’ve cut out recently. I let them watch ABC Kids at breakfast. After breakfast, S decided to do colouring in instead of getting ready. C was busy reading on her bunk and definitely not getting ready for school.

E: What are we doing today?

Me: We’re dropping off S at daycare, then you get to go to big school—

E: aGAIN?!

Me: —and then after school, Auntie J picks you up and brings you home, then we’re taking C to Irish—

E: I HATE DAYS LIKE THIS

I had a big shout at my children who were so not cooperating with getting ready. On the way to school, I pointed out how it had been not such a nice morning and we had screens so this is why we don’t do screens at breakfast.

Tuesday.

No screens before breakfast. No not even a little bit. C told me she was going on strike. No talking to me and no listening to me. I was annoyingly unbothered. She broke the strike to explain that she would not be doing anything I asked her to. I said, that’s fine. I don’t have to order anything from the book catalogue you were so desperate for me to order. 

I think I won that round.

As everyone was actually eating breakfast well before 7, silly me relented and allowed two (2) episodes of Bluey that were my choice to avoid fights or watching for far too long so everyone gets a turn. It. Took. Forever. To. Get. Ready.

Then, bonus, E and C were both missing a school shoe. We had one (1) E shoe and one (1) C shoe. I was gobsmacked and furious and feeling like such a useless, hopeless mum. C wore her running shoes. E refused to wear her running shoes. I managed to get them on her feet, but she kept kicking me to get them off and after a while I just gave up. She walked to daycare in socks.

When at daycare, one of her last year preschool friends was dropping off his little brother. They are not doing so well being in different places during the day (heart melt!) so their mum has done little “hug” notes. Adorable! 

Other mum: How’s E settling in at school?

Me: Well… she walked here in socks because she refused to wear her shoes, if that gives you any idea of how we’re going.

Of course, E stepped in something squishy and smelly so relented in putting on her shoes but insisted on taking off the yucky sock. So she wore one sock and two shoes all day. My head is shaking just thinking about it. When I finally got home, I found one (1) E shoe and one (1) C shoe on S’s chair. Sabotage.

Wednesday.

No screens before breakfast. Again. Yes. I’m serious.

I had three very grumpy girls who were grumpy and bickering all morning. I had another big shout. It still really gets to me that even when we start the getting ready after breakfast phase at 7.10 we still may only be out the door at 8.05. 8.05 is too late. We haven’t actually been late to school yet but it is a near thing.

Halfway up the hill that the school is on – it’s a steep one and I find the Bluey trick of playing wind-up helps greatly – I heard a leaving the house kerfuffle and then a kid calling out “E! E! Hi, E! E’s IN MY CLASS! HI E DO YOU WANT TO RACE UP THE HILL” so his dad and I watched them running up a steep hill and now I know another boy and his dad.

Thursday.

No screens before breakfast. Again. Yes. I’m serious. Like, this is the rule now and how we do life and seeing as you seem to be having trouble understanding, you get a mummy daddy story from when we were young back in the dark ages of pre-internet last century. When my brothers and I were only allowed to watch 30 minutes of TV after school. One TV. One choice. Two older brothers made sure I grew up not getting to watch what I want and, bonus I realised later, also receiving the message that my choices are less valid than other people’s. I didn’t share that last tidbit, but the girls were horrified that I would have had to watch big boy shows or miss out entirely.

Everyone had shoes. I couldn’t find E’s hat. I had bought extras when I saw them in January, but this still really got to me. I did lots of deep breathing and told the girls why I was frustrated. Glenn found E’s hat exactly where it was meant to be. We made it to school only just on time.

Friday.

Fridays are always more relaxed because we don’t have to do the daycare drop-off as well. Of course, we are nearly always late on Fridays. This morning, S was awake early enough that I hadn’t left for my walk so she came with me. By the time we returned, C and E were awake and still needing reminding that we don’t do screens before school. They are starting to get the idea, though, and E and S asked for some colouring in and C started doing acro practice. More colouring happened after breakfast while I had some coffee and before I knew it, we were running late. I did a Mr Bean on E, getting her undies on her while she washed her hands, pulling on her skort while she brushed her teeth. 

For the first day all week, I was relaxed. No shouting. No deep breaths. A bit panicked at the end, but we were not late. 

Bonus, this afternoon was a big step up from last Friday afternoon. Last Friday afternoon, it was a struggle to get E out of the tree next to her classroom and go home. Last Friday afternoon, there were tired tantrums from E and other kids in her class. Last Friday afternoon, E kicked and bit and pinched and punched me all the way home. It was not a pleasant trip. This afternoon, girls shoved cheese buddies in their mouths and didn’t take too much persuading to come home instead of running through the sprinklers on the oval (win!). They were allowed oaty chocolate chip cookies once we were on the way home. I was not hurt once AT ALL. There were stories shared and laughs shared and kindness and happiness and cooperation and it was SO NICE.

The Thing About Summer Holidays

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

Dear parents of before,

I get it now. I’m sorry.

That is all. Except my remorseful self needs to vent and explain.

When I was a kid, I was quiet. Like, really quiet. The sort of quiet that always gets “She’s really quiet” and “When will you come out of your shell” comments. Holidays for me meant as much staying in my room and reading as possible. I remember getting all enthusiastic about violin practice, and would sometimes set a goal of learning a particular work over the holidays. I didn’t fight much with my brothers because I wasn’t interacting with them. We would usually go away somewhere for a week or so, which meant I just had a different place to read a book. There would be a day of stationery shopping and then the delight of covering books without any bubbles in the contact. In short, I don’t remember there being much happening that my parents had to be involved with and it was all pretty quiet.

Fast forward to being an adult and hearing the moaning about school holidays. Moaning about school holidays which would come hot on the heels of moaning about school terms and busyness. I was one of those child-free adults who wondered, don’t you like your kids? Isn’t it nice to have them around more and not having to worry about lunches and drop-offs and friendship struggles and homework and assignments and teachers and events and sports? Why do you complain about all those things when they’re on and then complain about the absence of all those things when they’re not? 

Fast forward some more to the summer just before C started school, where we screamed at each other I think every day in January. Only near the very end did I realise she was nervous about school, even though she was saying she was really excited. Once she’d started school, her summer holidays had a bit more sister time, as work is mostly suspended for me so I reduced the daycare days for E and S. It was stressful having them all around more because of the fighting and the bickering and the constant need to make sure they are active enough so that they don’t fight so much and so that they will sleep. Hahahahaha.

Fast forward to this summer. Deep breaths. It’s been a challenge. Thankfully, one for which I was marginally more prepared and financially better able to cope. That is a factor not at all to be underestimated. Money can’t buy you love, but it can buy craft supplies, and that’s priceless. This has been a summer that has brought me inspiration in the form of a desire to write a handbook for summer. Yes, mostly so that I can do better next time and also, crucially, have more skills for the following summer when S will be about to start school.

There were two main elements for this summer for us. One was that I felt I actually had to get ready for school. The other was all the up-in-the-air-ness and not-usual-ness and change of the situation of having E finishing daycare and starting school.

Getting ready for school didn’t mean just going stationery shopping and covering books. In fact, the school made that rather easy by having a supply levy for prep-2 and by sending a booklist for year 3 for us to do online ordering and then it was delivered and I had to stick name stickers (ordered last year) on and that was it. Other things that weren’t so obvious but necessary were things like actually delivering the stationery supplies to the school last week. Buying proper school shoes. Wearing in said school shoes. Practising wearing the uniform and hat. Haircuts. Getting a lower railing for the wardrobe so that uniforms can hang there and be accessible by girls. Reminding them of drop-off and pickup routines. Packing lunches – I mean, starting weeks ago – for lunchbox practice and also what on earth will E eat at school?! Baking. Trying new products to see if they work or don’t work for lunchboxes. Paying all the dancing fees. Practising morning routines and hairstyles. Naming all E’s things and all C’s new things.

Although a lot more involved than what I remembered from being a kid, that bit was easy. It had to be done. It was done. Yes, I was sticking name labels on lunch containers after 10pm Monday, but it was all done. My To Do List was nicely filled with green ticks.

Then there was the other side. The other side that had me going ohhhhh I get it now. The side that is dealing with two personalities. It’s not so much the two people thing, but two conflicting personalities. Needs quiet. Likes loud. Can sit on her bunk and imagine things for hours on end. Will lie on her bunk and delight in annoying her sister by pushing her toes up against the upper mattress. The side that is dealing with the emotions of however many children are at home and everything that is in the moment and therefore crucially important as well as everything that is to come and all the worries and fears and insecurities that brings. The side that feels the guilt for letting girls be on screens for hours on end so that I can do some work and earn some money. 

The side that, as the home parent, means no break not at all no none. This mental image of lazy summer days just is not true for the parent at home with the kids, the one doing all the upfront parenting. This might be possible in a few years but it decidedly is not the case just yet. And this miss, that expectation of relaxation and the possibility of doing other things that is then not realised, is so incredibly frustrating. Like watching the Relaxation Train go by. I really desperately want to be on it, and yet… there it goes, chugging away while I cradle a child on my lap to calm her after a sister fight or to talk through the what-ifs of school or as I work on what do I actually need to do this year in order for our family to function and try to declutter which also I can’t do because even though I want this immensely and our family needs this immensely I can’t seem to get to do it because children either play with what I’m trying to sort through or they kick off with yet another fight.

The side that is so draining that I am a blob at the end of each day, the “end” of each day really meaning when all three girls are all finally asleep, so sometimes 8.30, sometimes 10.30. So draining that I can’t muster energy to contact the people I love, the grownups and the support network who reach out even when they get nothing back. So draining that I can’t organise playdates or catchups or anything that will probably actually help the whole situation. So draining that the end of the day becomes precious, as I am determined to do something for me every evening, even if that means staying up past 11 cutting out bits of felt or material while watching snippets of a show that doesn’t require concentration on a plot line, sacrificing sleep for some insistence that I am still me and still deserve something for me.

I get it now, parents. I get it.

Corporal Musings

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

You know how babies have a presence to them? Even though their body is small, they have a weight to them that is just heavy and comforting and endearing and so, so precious. I mean, they ARE supremely precious, and because we are often holding them, there is a presence that carries through the memory, a memory of a small being that is not heavy but heavy. And this baby body carries through toddlerhood and then at some point you notice that your little baby is much more of a child now, with knees sticking out and not such chubby fingers and a chin and jawline that are that of a child.

But when does this change take place? It slips over so silently, so sneakily, so unassumingly. One day you can pick up a child and carry her to the bathroom, and the next thing you know, picking up this same child is a feat of engineering as you try to hold her upper body as well as some part of her legs and then manoeuvre her down the hallway without knocking her head off on the wall or cracking a knee on the corner.

I am here to let you know that it is sometime between age nearly-three-and-a-half and nearly five. How do I know this? We have spent a good proportion of our summer at parks and playgrounds. My arms are far more toned because I have pushed children on swings for much of the time we have spent at the park. And helping a child onto a swing or up a climbing wall, you notice things. E, at nearly five, is now long and gangly and still a little bit of a little girl but also so very much a big girl. S still has this weight to her, this strong but chubby body that still recalls contact naps and sofa cuddles and being lifted into places. She is still a little girl, barrelling towards preschool yet still … not.

That said, as I mused on this, I recalled C at that age. Well, before that age. A really standout (in the sense of being a day that I recall the day and the date and the weather) time for us was just after E was born and I had the accident with her and we ended up in the world of the Children’s Hospital for a few days which felt like months, but was also, thankfully, not the actual real life months that the other people in the ward were living through. C was not even a month past her third birthday, and she was definitely not in the holding-onto-toddler-body zone. For her, I would say she still had that at just over two and a half, and excuse me while I check photos from that Christmas when she was two and three quarters and … yes. Just. Definitely in the looking like a grown up girl zone, but still with the chin and yes. I spotted elbow dimples. 

It goes so fast. It’s still hard to believe that E is still four. Just four. When she turns five in less than a month, that’s still only five. Hardly anything. It feels like S has lived an enormous amount already at not even three and a half. C is such a grownup girl at not even eight. If you told me she was eleven, I would believe that. Of course, I will most likely be musing on how grownup they feel in a year, and five years, and in ten years I will be lamenting the little girls they are now as they will really be on the cusp of adulthood. It really is a “big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey stuff”, as Doctor Who said. For now, I am leaning into the cuddles and the swing-pushing and the lifting and the strong chubby bodies. And trying not to lose my cool with all the demands and tantrums and shouting at me for things that they want that I cannot give them. Like tights that are in the winter clothing tub, never mind that it’s 35 degrees and ridiculously humid. Or going to the art gallery NOW when it is serving dinner time. It won’t be like this for long.

Keeping Mum

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

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.

Change Is Afoot

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

In the midst of children just not sleeping, and behaviour going all which ways, and my girls just seeming to be not themselves, I finally, after nearly eight years of parenting, remembered to think about the bigger picture. What was going on here?

Well, lots, as it turns out.

Before Christmas, Glenn had some time off his day job in order to play two shows. What was really five straight days of rehearsals and performances felt like two weeks. The girls, being young and adaptable, were quickly in the zone of “Where’s daddy?” “PLAYING A SHOW”. Even though I am the bedtime parent, he is an important part of bedtime for goodnights and cuddles and playfulness and any Doctor Daddy that arises. And, lately, Drawing Daddy. He is excellent at drawing and when I’m not around to print out endless colouring in pages, Glenn will draw a garden or a space scene or a rhino beetle for colouring in. 

Christmas is always an excitement, too, with lots of different around. Decorations. Traditions. Music. Anticipation. The weirdness of me not working over Christmas and New Year. Christmas is also school holiday time, so I haven’t been baking as much (or, as I’m telling myself, making sure we get through what’s in the freezer so we have a fresh start).

E is starting school in a few weeks (eek!) so she finished daycare/preschool on Christmas Eve. That’s a huge change for her. She started when she was 9 months old so we’re talking four years of this routine and these carers and this environment.

E stopping daycare means that C has gone from being the only one around when I’m working or just during the day (so plenty of opportunity for quiet time) to having to be around someone else. Someone else who is acting out their starting school anxiety and their change unsettledness and their different routine unsettledness. E is loud and out there. C doesn’t like loud or sudden or out there. I am finding this tricky.

C stopping daycare means that S is now the only one going to daycare. Thank goodness we had the prep transition days for E so S could also get used to being the only one going in at daycare. Yes. I am getting a bit emotional over this. How did you know? It really pulls at my heartstrings to see only one child running up to the outside door and leaning out and waving hello to her friends. Only one child to sign in. Only one child not with me during the day. It feels like I miss S now that it’s just her at daycare much more than I ever missed C or E. Is that because she’s the youngest? Is that because I’m realising it won’t feel like long before she, too, is a big girl going to big school? Is it because, even though having three girls all around is TOUGH and it feels like they just bicker and physically hurt each other the entire time, it also needs to be three of them to feel whole?

All this change has meant jangled. All this change has meant changes, especially at bedtime. It used to be dinner then a merry-go-round of girls doing toilet, bath, teeth, goodnight with daddy, into bed. Except C wouldn’t go straight to bed. She would be allowed to do Duolingo and then, if other girls were still awake (so, most nights), certain iPad games. C would get to bed and have some reading with me once E was asleep. 

But from Christmas Day onwards, C has been actually tired. Like, falling asleep at dinnertime kind of tired. So it’s been usually a three sister bath (specially requested every night by S) then all out and doing teeth and saying goodnight to daddy then their preferred method of getting to the bedroom and into bed. Preferred methods are piggy-back or horsey ride or high jumps, where I hold onto their hands and they face forward and I help them jump as high as possible while being told “Higher! HIGHER!” For nearly a week, this worked, and I would have S asleep fairly quickly and I would read a bible story to E and C then maybe another story which was usually a Ruby Red Shoes book and then it wouldn’t be long before E was asleep and also C was asleep. 

Of course, such a winning bedtime routine couldn’t last. As I said, about a week. Now we have the first elements – tired, three sister bath, teeth, goodnight… and then E goes nuts. Any time I am trying to settle S, or paying any attention to anybody who isn’t E, E is rolling around or murmuring “Ma-ma”, or deliberately rolling out of her bunk, or taking selfies on my phone, or opening her new music box, or telling me hilarious jokes. Not. Helpful.

Yes, I am losing my mind. Yes, this really really really depletes my Me Time, which is absolutely crucial to me being able to parent and not hate myself. So we are changing bedtime. Two nights in, so far, where I have let E do colouring in while S settles and so far I am not convinced. I will give it maybe two more nights then try to find a new plan. Sigh. It is such a fine balance trying to accommodate all of them, each with their own needs. Will I ever get into a good zone? Who knows. Right now I am just trying to remember that we are going through big changes, and big changes can be tough and be felt deeper than you expect, and try try try try try try to be curious first. 

2025 Review

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

It’s that time of year, isn’t it? In all the haze of Christmas that follows fast on the heels of the end of school year frenzy, there is that week of limbo when most things slow down or stop and there is time to reflect and time to consider and plan and contemplate. What just happened here. Is that who I am. How do I want my life to be, or my self to be, or my family to be, or my anything. 

When I look back at a year ago, I am amazed at how far we have come, how far I have come, how my family has changed. It is so satisfying looking at what my aims were for this year and seeing what was achieved and how it made an impact. Here are a few.

On a family level, we went from one girl in school and two in daycare to about to be two girls in school and one in daycare. I also finished paying off my massive childcare debt which was immensely satisfying and empowering. There was so much pre-school for E but we managed it all and she is so prepared for big school. 

We went from having three girls doing swimming lessons and one doing Irish dancing, to no girls doing swimming lessons (officially), one doing Irish dancing (and danced in her first competition), and one doing ballet and jazz and tap (and danced in her first concert). Next year, all girls will have at least one dance class a week and I am a bit gobsmacked that I must now be a Dance Mum. By the end of term 1, I anticipate we will have two pairs of Irish dancing shoes, two pairs of ballet shoes, one pair of tap shoes, and maybe some barefoot dancing going on, too. This was unexpected.

We went from two girls in nappies overnight to, quite suddenly, no girls in nappies overnight. Except when an accident happens, but they all start off without. We went from plastic tablecloths that got ratty and disgusting and cut up and spilled on and drawn on, to cloth tablecloths … that get picked at and spilled on and drawn on and washed. It’s a big improvement. 

C can now roller-skate up and down the garden path. She is learning to ride a bike. She reads well beyond her age and is still doing maths things when she can on the iPad. E can write her name and all the letters and numbers and can tell me basic addition and also tell me two numbers and what it is – like, a house number that is 4, 2, so forty-two. S can write some letters and tell me most of them. She is still so little but also comes out with sentences that amaze me from their use of vocabulary as well as the emotional intelligence behind it.

We went from mostly daily grocery shopping to the occasional in-person top-up, but mostly delivered. One Funky Food box a fortnight with gloriously wacky fruit and veg, and two grocery shop deliveries a week. My stress is greatly reduced (and I mean, by a huge amount), as is our food bill. We don’t waste as much food as we used to, either.

For me, this blog has been so, so good to get back to. And not all that I write for it gets posted. There are many, many posts just written and not shared, but they have helped me by writing it. My brain has been reminded of how useful it is to get words out. My inner child has been reminded of its dream of being a writer. Maybe this year, even more will come of this.

Speaking of this year and goals, I have a few. I’m not a big one for sharing them, but hey. Why not. These are my dreams and aspirations and ideas, and unlike my usual way of getting to about 9.30pm on 31 December and thinking, oh, I should probably think of a goal for the new year, this year I actually started putting these in my notes on Boxing Day. Waaaaay ahead of schedule. So. 

Get back to starting the day with 10 sit ups, 10 push ups, 10 something else (mix it up!). Use the kettle bell at least twice a week. Be able to do the monkey bars at the gym park (that’s a big one for me to do for my girls). Get back to eating mostly vegetarian and whole foods. Use the freezer more wisely. More consistent/regular blogging. Profitable side business. Make a small doll. Embroider more. Try to sew something – as in, finish something – each week. Write. Bake something from Baking Across America (a Christmas present that I am devouring by reading before devouring by eating) at least once a month. Remove the baby things from the household. Teach the girls to swim.

That seems like a lot. It also seems like a largely January plan, and if that’s what it turns out to be for the most part, I’m fine with that. 

Happy new year! 

Christmas 2025 Rundown

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

Well. The big day is over, and I must say, a few tweaks to our Christmas this year made a big difference. I’m recording some of them here to remind myself for next year, in no particular order. I should say, this is not that Christmases past have been horrible or stressful or anything negative at all. This year, though, I really noticed some changes and I relished in them.

I started early. Like, September early. I was one of those people. Something for C caught my eye and I ordered it. I realised what S needed and ordered it. This place was having a spring sale and I bought something for each girl from there. I am so glad I did. I knew that this would make it less of a financial burden, but it also greatly reduced the mental burden of thinking and ordering and hoping something is in stock and then delivered on time. 

I was strict with myself. One big gift for each girl and one smaller gift. Glenn and I bought a big item (a much-needed Shark fan) as our present to each other. Santa delivered on undies/socks and something each girl was hoping for. However, as I had “had a chat with Santa” a few years ago, the No Toys Policy remained. I actually wavered on that, but as I was not keen to watch Peppa Pig to find out exactly what sort of bat and ball S thought she wanted, and unable to find a plastic talking ballerina toy with her own stage for E, and definitely unable to find an 8-10cm tall grownup doll for C’s dollhouse, it turned out that the No Toys Policy could stay firmly in place. 

Santa upped his game, however, and included food this year: a red and white candy cane as well as a rainbow candy cane, and a box of Smarties and a packet of popcorn. Any early risers or delay in breakfast could be fed by Santa. This was a Good Thing to do and I hope Santa does this in future. Santa also had a brainwave on Monday and included INKredible books – you know those mess-free activity books with a magic pen that you use to do the activities but the pen usually dries up about 3 pages from the end. This meant that while we sorted out breakfast (Baby Yoda eggs and sourdough toast), all girls were silently occupied. Win.

Glenn found gifts for the girls that really brought the fun factor in. Wind-up jellyfish. Friendship bracelet beading set. A Wicked cosmetics ball. Watercolour painting books that include the paint so you just need to add water. All these things bought good stretches of calm. I will be factoring this in to future Christmas gift considerations.

Not making things for Christmas made a big difference. I mean, I still did – I made a pocket to put on a bag for each of E’s preschool teachers, and I made blueberry jam for C’s Irish dancing teachers, and I made lip balm holder key rings for Glenn, and I had to sew a stocking for a girl on Christmas Eve night as we somehow lost 3 of ours (?!?!). But I wasn’t sewing coordinating dresses or bows or hot water bottle covers or soft toys or blankets for the girls. Phew. I learnt a few years ago that the Christmas Deadline creates way more stress than is good for me. When it’s made, it’s made, and they can enjoy it then. Plus, work carries on up until the week before Christmas and it is just too much to add on Christmas sewing. Summer sewing, however, is another prospect. As we are off to the ballet in January (squee!), girls may be in coordinating dresses by then.

Glenn’s dad sent Christmas money, and instead of spending it on more presents for the girls, we used this money for food and drink. Christmas treats are at least half the fun of Christmas, in my mind.

Not making things (much) as well as having shopped early meant that Christmas Eve was very relaxed. C helped me wrap presents in the afternoon as a storm raged outside and she helped me put them out well past her bedtime. I felt … calm. Excited and calm. And girls not sleeping very early at all (AT ALL) was not a problem this year thanks to all that preparation.

There were still some big emotions on the day. I also, apparently, ruined Christmas by not opening stockings on our bed “as we always do” (except for two years ago and possibly more but who’s counting), and not having Christmas crackers (Glenn and I legit forgot), and there’s another big and important factor that I was told off about today but I can’t remember what it is. Oh well. There’s always next year.

Cold Turkey

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

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.