life

In The Wake Of Alfred

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There’s been a lot of drama lately. A lot of angst, anxiety, fear, worry. A lot of preparation. 

In the end, for us it turned out to be for a whole lot of rain and a bit of wind. E would call Alfred a Drama Prince.

We got lucky. Super duper ultra lucky, and there are hundreds of thousands of people who suffered and are still suffering. We did not lose power. We did not have any disruption to our water supply. We didn’t flood. We didn’t have a tree come down anywhere near us, certainly not crushing a car or roof or whole entire house.

What we did have felt like a mini lockdown, akin to what it would have been five years ago but with an end in sight. I take my hat off to families that had to do COVID lockdowns with multiple children and no clear end.

We made it through. Life is returning to normal. Monday, daycare was still closed and school was open only for supervision of children of essential workers. By Monday lunchtime, I was turning myself into a pretzel crossing fingers and toes and whatever possible that they would be able to be back to normal on Tuesday. We were outside on Monday afternoon with girls splashing in the backyard pool and blowing bubbles when two emails came through – bam, bam – within a minute of each other. School would be open for all students. Daycare would be reopening, but please pack food as their food service is out of action this week. Can. Do.

Having made it through this Alfred Experience, I feel I have some people to thank. The usual, of course. Glenn – a rock. Unphased in the areas that matter, like shopping in a panic-ridden shopping centre and finding all that we needed and being able to plan meals and make meals and be around to give girls cuddles and have Siri play Kiss and have mini rock concerts with whoever (E, mostly) needed them.

Auntie J, who shopped for us when I had planned to pick up essentials for our emergency kit but then had 3 girls home sick so we weren’t going anywhere. She offered. I sent her a list. She delivered. I transferred her money. I breathed a little easier.

Prime Video. The girls watched about 39 hours a day… okay, that’s a slight exaggeration. But really, doing some quick calculations here, 8-9 hours a day. Up to 9 hours a day of watching mostly Prime Video. I’ll move on. It was a lot.

Bubbles. Bubbles are the best, aren’t they? Thank goodness I had restocked our big bubble mix the Friday before this all started. Thank goodness I had splurged and gone for the big 2 litre bottle. Bubbles for years. Well, months. That said, with twice-daily usage for 7 days, we used about a fifth of the bottle. A couple of Christmases ago, E was given a bubble set which has a little dish and 4 different blowers. This was the best thing ever during this time. I didn’t have to keep a hold on the massive store of bubble mix to prevent the inevitable major spill. Each girl could blow and chase and spin and pop and come back for more. On the very windy days, we could just hold the blower out and let the wind take the bubbles. And one of my favourite videos is of all girls doing “cyclone bubbles”, holding a blower out and twirling in a midst of circling bubbles. Beautiful.

Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler. Thank you. What a duo. Not a day went by that I didn’t read a Donaldson/Scheffler book. That’s such an understatement. Multiple times a day. And having S and E reciting parts of a book while turning the pages… well. That makes my heart sing. And having such interesting illustrations that girls can get lost in them, spotting connections and little details, was enormously important. There were some other books read, too, but this duo was at the forefront.

AirPods. Oh my. I only cottoned on to this in the last little while but they help so much. Anyone else tried it? Sensory overwhelm in the form of too much noise is starting to take place. AirPods in on noise cancelling, and it takes the edge off. I was hoping for the screaming children level to be reduced but no. It doesn’t really make a difference to that. But if you are having to listen to an annoying children’s show and don’t have the mental energy to switch, or are in the middle of a rock and roll party or Wicked playlist and just have too much doomscrolling to do, then this really helps.

Shelley Husband. Don’t know who she is? Spincushions? Australian Crochet Designer of the Year? Well, anyway, she is my crochet guru idol person. Her granny square patterns are *beautiful* and elevate crochet squares to art. Last year, I realised a shawl would be a good addition to my winter workwear, and I planned it out and bought the yarn. I don’t usually have the urge to crochet in summer, but I couldn’t wait to get started on it in January. It has accompanied me to swimming lessons and psychologist appointments and been my general go-to Me Time when it’s too late to start sewing. Even one side of a round helps my calm. And wowsers, did I ever need it during this time. Admittedly, there were a couple of rounds that were frogged and then frogged again and for one round, frogged a third time before I had it right, but it was the calmness of repetition with the satisfaction of seeing a growing square of beauty take shape in my hands that was essential for my mental health. (Today, with a server issue at work so no work, I finished this square. Two more to go, and then some border squares I think. This is, fittingly, the Hope square from Granny Square Patchwork in 4-ply Luxury in Amazon Green from Bendigo Woollen Mills.)

Emergency services. Not for us in particular, thank goodness, but their social media presence, keeping us informed. Emergency services and weather pages and news channels. I realise it’s a bit in the doomscrolling category but it’s also in the reassurance realm and the awareness and information department. I’d much rather “Well, thank goodness that wasn’t as bad as we feared” over “Why is it so windy today?!”

A pink-handled crochet hook rests on an intricate green crochet granny square, which is slightly rumpled on top of a slightly rumpled grey and white checked quilt cover.

Parenting accounts on social media. Nurtured First has been a favourite lately, but any account – I’m not talking the ones that make me laugh with their representations of what parenting is like in the real world (although a little levity is always a good thing), but the ones that are there to help – accounts that remind me of things that stop me losing it in the face of things that make me lose it. I doubt my neighbourhood appreciates it, but I have noticed a difference in my frustration levels, and a definite rise this week in intentional calmness. I mean, I have a looooooooooooong way to go there, but there were times when I COULD have exploded but I didn’t.

The best of the parenting accounts for me – and “parenting account” is nowhere near the complete picture, but it has been my saviour and well I could go on and on and on and on – is The Occuplaytional Therapist (OPT). Without her and her posts over the years, this whole Alfred thing would have been a markedly different experience for us. Through her, I became more aware of the why of children’s behaviour. Another viewpoint. A better understanding of child development. All of the things. All of the things that meant I could grasp that C needing to have quiet and routine and an active role in preparation was the way she was coping, and that E was letting out big emotions with loud sounds, and to tell her to stop that and be quiet would help C but then stifle E and then we would likely have different problems to deal with. S needing cuddles for hours and hours was her comfort and what a relief that I kind of needed S cuddles too and wasn’t touched out. C apparently bossing E around was not really about being in charge or being in control or better than her, but needing to establish some control when things were feeling out of control. E needing loud – to be loud herself, and to have loud rock music on – was so not helping me, but coming from the understanding that it was her out, combined with those lovely AirPods, made it easier to bear, especially when followed by the amazing handsies we do at bedtime. So the OPT has opened up my sight to the why, which has helped me, you know, not lose my cool at every single thing every single time. Baby steps.

This list is not complete, of course, but these are the people and things I thanked in my head at the time and thought I should really put it out there as part of the stuff of our lives. Thank you.

Waiting For Alfred

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Wednesday. Early morning walk. Not nearly as busy as usual. Very few bikes. Ferry terminals with closed gates. Mentally earmarking the trees I think will come down before the weekend, and the buildings they will damage. Overcast. Quiet. The sort of quiet that I imagine happened around the first Easter. 

No birds.

All the dogs on edge. Sirens cutting through at 11.10am. Taking girls outside in the morning and afternoon to run off anxiety and be in a larger space than inside. Scooters and strollers and bubbles. Every time a gust of wind made its presence felt, C would look up and say, “The cyclone’s here”. 

Cyclone prep. Making a candle. A candle so bright in its pinkness I can’t look at it directly. Knowing each one we make helps C feel a bit calmer and prepared. Tidying the balcony, which turned out to be a much more massive task than anticipated. So much dirt. Noticing that the much narrower balconies of the next door townhouses are not at all cleared until we are nearly finished with ours and then magically people appear to pull their outdoor furniture inside and rearrange their plants. 

Experiencing the differences in my girls, magnified. Being aware and mindful of the way each of us is coping, or trying to cope, and trying to function, and how the experience is being processed for each of us.

S is the easiest to deal with. Cuddles. Long cuddles. Mummy or daddy, doesn’t matter, but cuddles. When we are outside she is more likely to just sit and watch, not participating, not doing her own thing. Just watching.

C is needing the comfort and escape of iPad time. Watching shows. Arcade games. Mathletics. Or reading real books. Needing to play with her toys like never before. Needing quiet time as sensory overwhelm is a real and big thing for her and sensitivity is high.

Which would be easier if E didn’t get her anxious out with loud and sudden sounds. Do you want cereal for breakfast? OKAY! Does anyone want to help me make a candle? ME! I WANT TO HELP YOU! And being set on what she wants, too, so that nobody can share whatever it is with her.

Glenn is coping by organising food to the max, and by almost obsessively scrolling to find all the weather information as well as the tidbits of what our local friends are posting.

I am anxiety-crocheting. At least twice a day I need some time out from being a cyclone mum or a sick kids mum and just have the comfort of the rhythm of skip ch, 3tr in next stitch, et cetera.

I also realise that it will be nice for all girls to have a comfort blanket of some sorts for when the winds are rough and loud. C and S already have a leaf blanket so now is the time to finish E’s. Once girls are asleep at night, I am sewing. It helps.

Thursday. Is it Thursday? I’m not sure. It’s even worse than that week between Christmas and New Year’s. It could be Thursday. What date is it? Brain is getting fuddled reading cyclone warning updates. Checking phone for the actual date. 

Cyclone fatigue has set in. Waiting is hard. 

Early morning walk is overcast but still. Very still. The hotel on the corner opposite the river that always floods has finally removed its outdoor tables and chairs and coffee cart. I note there are zero sandbags about though. Not as many people out as usual, and far fewer cyclists. Usually I see about 100, give or take (yes I count them, don’t you?), but Thursday’s number is 12. 

Bubbles are the new favourite thing outside. An upstairs neighbour calls down from her balcony to see if we are ok with storm prep. She smiles at the girls and the bubbles and the twirling. C is swinging wildly from being really easy going, flexible thinking, problem solving extraordinaire to the most stuck. Please give her the ball. She clearly wants the ball. Why are you refusing to give her the ball? “Because you told me to carry it inside”. I have since changed my instructions. Give her the ball it’s just a ball.

Inside, and I need some relaxation crochet time. After a few stitches, S is on me. Settling in for a long cuddle. She falls asleep on me. When she wakes, she stays, and E joins us. E possibly has an ear infection. Is anywhere even open for help? She is in so much pain. Pain relief, then she falls asleep. I extricate S and myself and we prep some chocolate chip cookies. We won’t lose power until the winds are much stronger.

Glenn calls from the shops. What about dinner? What about dinner. My brain is stuck. I just – nope. No thinking is possible. Thankfully he understands this and can make thoughts and decisions and plans. 

I try for a nap after lunch. I take my crochet into the bedroom just in case I am just needing time away from people. S insists on coming in with me, and being under the quilt, and her head on my pillow, and so I give up on any napping and sit on the chair. E wakes and needs me so out I go. For the next half hour or so, S just lies on my bed, looking out the window. Watching.

Obsessively looking for all the updates on Facebook. Groaning when the predicted landfall stretches out from what was initially late Wednesday to Thursday, to Thursday, to late Thursday early Friday, to now being late Friday early Saturday. Come on already. Waiting is hard. 

Starting to see memes of waiting. The skeleton with its feet up and “Just waiting for Alf” sticks with me the most. 

Starting to see the stupidity that I suspect is peculiar to Australians in wild weather. People naturally out to watch the wild seas and look at the eroding beaches but then getting into stupidly dangerous situations. Like the woman who walked her dogs on the beach and one of the dogs nearly went out to sea and she nearly went out to sea trying to save one dog and someone else nearly went out to sea trying to save the dog for her. 

Starting to see destruction. Trees down. Cars flattened. Do I show these to the girls? Do I keep them from seeing this? Will it help them understand the strength of a cyclone or will it worry them even more? Part of my cyclone fatigue is trying to accomodate everyone’s personal sensory needs and trying to work out what will help them process this and understand it and what will make it worse for them. The advice of “tell your children in an age-appropriate way” doesn’t really help me work out what to tell them. And as I am learning that C is someone who copes by knowledge, I am trying to give her bits of knowledge while also trying not to worry her with bits of knowledge that won’t apply to us here. 

This is tough. Waiting is tough. Navigating all of this is tough. Now excuse me while I open Facebook and check for another update.

Expected and Unexpected Milestones

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There have been a few developments this week. That feels like an understatement but see for yourself.

Glenn had a birthday. No matter how many you have had, I always feel a birthday is special. A celebration of life, of that already lived and that which is to come. This one felt extra special, not from being any particularly special age or any celebration that we did, but from family. The girls were all aware that daddy’s birthday was coming up. E made him a card with all the Frozen stickers she was given for her birthday. C was such a lovely helper on our shopping trip to buy daddy’s birthday presents. And S… this was the first year that she really initiated “happy birthday daddy”. Not just copying others, as she often does, but just randomly in the middle of breakfast. And while he was opening presents. And during dinner. We had these very sweet, very lovely, “happy birthday daddy”s punctuating the day.

Speaking of copying, S has upped her copying. For quite some time – I mean, at least a year, possibly 18 months or so – S has been an excellent mimic. Which has contributed to her being a much more understandable speaker, I think (one of the factors, anyway), but also has made some things extra funny. Like, one of the things of our family is Glenn will stand with his feet apart in the hallway or the kitchen entrance and say, in a Big Daddy Voice, “You’re not getting past here”. E and C will either slip to the side or, more likely, drop and go through the daddy tunnel. S, though, copies his stance and then sometimes copies his Big Daddy Voice herself. Copying does often result in screams and shouts and growls of “STOP COPYING ME” from the other girls but they all do it to each other and to me. At the park on the weekend, though, S took it to the next level. I was pushing her in the swing.

S: What’s in the … [other end of the pendulum]

Me: What’s in the what?

S: What’s in the … [other end of the pendulum; looks back at me with a smile. Maybe this is delight at being in the swing]

Me: In the what? The tree?

S: In the what? The tree?

Me: In the tree?

S: In the tree?

Me: The – are you copying me?

S: Are you copying me? [widest possible grin on her face]

Speaking of the park, E can now climb the climbing wall. We hadn’t been to this park for a while. E is cautious by nature. Suddenly, from the swings where I spend most of my park life apparently, I heard big screams. I wasn’t sure if it was the screams of “I’m frustrated” or “I’m hurt”. I got there as fast as I could to hear, “AGH I CAN’T DO IT CAN YOU HELP ME”. Now, I am a big fan of if they can do it, they can do it; if they can’t, let them work out how to do it. That’s great. But also, sometimes, there’s no way they’re going to approach something again if they don’t experience any way of how they can. So I stood behind E and told her I was right there. No good. With her hands and a foot in position, after moving one foot she again screamed, “I CAN’T DO IT”. This time, though – milestone #1 for this experience – I suggested we look at it from below. If you put your hands here and here, then a foot here and a foot here – uh huh – then you could move that foot to there and that foot to there, then— she was at it again. And nailed it. Milestone #2 for this experience. Then she repeated it a bunch of times and I did a Timelapse of her doing it which has S in the background and then she watched the video on repeat for a while and scream-laughed every time but was also SO proud of herself.

Speaking of E, there are a couple of things that switched when she turned four, as she is “A growmup girl now”. Big change #1: no more nighttime nappies. This has not been quite as successful as any of us hoped. Yet she still insists on no nappy, only undies. And she still wakes up during the night (most nights, anyway), very distressed and utterly surprised that she is wet. She must wear a nappy if she is coming into our bed so I put that on over her (fresh, dry) undies. And most mornings, she tells me she has a wee in her nappy, and – oh MAN – wet undies?!?! How did that happen?! Big change #2: no more baths. Showers. Which would be a bit easier for everyone if she wasn’t absolutely terrified of showers. But the first night that she insisted on a shower – so I drained the bath that S had just been in – and then E realised that she is scared of showers so could she have a bath please – and there was no way I was running another bath – quick thinking meant I offered to have a shower with her and now that is what happens every night. Which is, honestly, fantastic. It’s true that I no longer have that few minutes to be on my own and get clean without dodging a slippery child, but having a shower done before 7pm (or so) means that’s another thing ticked off the list of what I have to do. I’m loving it.

Still speaking of E, Glenn took her for a daddy-daughter doctor visit. As in, I wasn’t involved at all, except for booking the appointment. Previously, I’ve always taken them and Glenn has come sometimes and not other times. This worked beautifully! E is such a daddy’s girl right now so needed his comfort when she had her 4-year-old stabs.

Speaking of… Nope. No link for this one, but it is the most grey-hair-inducing. I was walking home with E and S after daycare on Tuesday. In the midst of the most dangerous section – big driveways for big buildings with impatient drivers – S was suddenly climbing out of the pram. She had been securely buckled in. She was no longer securely buckled in. I strapped her back in – which was hilarious, apparently – and tried to keep walking while watching her unbuckle herself again. I gave up. E apparently had tired legs, so she was allowed to get in the pram while S held the pram and walked with me. Wednesday I took her in the stroller (smaller, no storage areas, much harder to push) because I don’t think she has mastered unbuckling that one just yet. She was allowed out to do some walking, and to be fair, she is pretty good at holding on and staying on the side I tell her to stay on. E and C quite enjoy getting a free ride (although they have to take turns) when S is walking, but goodness me the weight difference is noticeable when I’m pushing a nearly-7-year-old up a hill.

Planning, Planning, Planning

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I am pleased to report that I am on my way to being a Planner. A List Maker. An Organised Mum. There are still some areas to sort out (PUN!) but I have my week of laundry planned (like when to wash towels and sheets; clothing is washed as needed which is almost daily) and a very loose cleaning … guide? Time to think about maybe cleaning an area? Then in January I planned my planning which was such a Me thing to do. So I now also have Food Organisation Preparation and Execution plans. I also have Planning for the Weekend plans.

As Monday-Thursday is when I work, I don’t plan on getting any baking done on those days.  Friday-Sunday, though, there are now Food Preparation Goals. Cookies. Muffins. Boiled eggs. Overnight oats. Baked oatmeal. Next level will be to keep a tally of how much of what we have in the freezer. I have plans to create a little sheet in Canva that can keep track of all of this. We also are going to start using a numbering system for our freezer to reduce what gets thrown out when we have to clean it out because it is too full, or even, avoid the too-full events entirely. All of this is making my Planning Self happy.

As Monday-Thursday is when I work, I have children with me and needing attention for Friday-Sunday. My go with the flow, let’s see what happens, children know what they want, let them play, approach … well. With experience, I have realised a number of things. When my girls are out, they get on beautifully; when my girls are home, they fight. When my girls have craft to do, there is harmony in the home; when we are home with no plan of what to do, there is chaos and fighting. Furthermore, C definitely likes to know The Plan, and E nearly always asks the night before, “Where are we going when we wake up?”

It used to be that I would get to Thursday night and groan. Not for the imminent children aspect, but because I had nothing planned or prepped for them to do. Craft is great, and letting them have free reign on the craft supplies is … you know. But when there is a plan, with something I can prep and then they have a plan, is always more successful in terms of engagement from them and cooperation and general calm and it just works out better.

So the New Way of doing things involves me starting a note in my phone early in the week, entitled “Weekend Plans 15-16 February”, for example, and then setting out Friday night dinner, Saturday breakfast – all the food things – as well as any outings we are aiming for if everyone is well, and what sort of creative activity we want to do, as well as what and when I plan on food prepping. I want to dig up our magnetic blackboard and an appropriate pen and have this more visible on the fridge, too, so C can contribute independently. Walks to daycare and school now include a question here and there of, what do you want to do for craft or art on Saturday? What do you want on your pizza on Friday? Can everyone please stay well this week so we can go to the park on the weekend, please?

Last weekend showed me that this planning doesn’t magically create a fight-free weekend. Unfortunately, this isn’t some cure-all solution for family harmony. What it does do, though, is give me an opportunity to be prepared for green pancakes and rainbow pizzas and love heart crafts and surprise paints. Planning helps.

Are The Voices In My Head Bothering You?

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There is so much. So much noise, clamouring noise in my head of what needs to be done. Do I seem quiet? Distracted? Step inside and take a peek at what’s going on. This is an example from Sunday night as I was lying on the girls’ bedroom floor while C tried to go to sleep and I tried to stay awake.

“Finish prepping daycare bags. S, spare top. E, spare top and bottom. Do I take out any undies from – no. S probably needs four pairs spare. Remember that daycare teacher from long ago who scolded you for not having enough pairs of spare undies when C was toilet training. Lunchbox for C. Yes you need to do it tonight. Just because on Thursday morning you managed to pack her lunch in about 23 seconds doesn’t mean that’s a good way to go about things. Sandwich. Tomatoes for vitamin C. Cookies. Fruit break should I give her pineapple or apple I think apple. Haven’t sorted the washing. Does everyone have clothing close enough to the top of the mountain of washing? Yes I think so. Don’t worry about that tonight then. But really, you need to do it. Like, soon. Maybe in the morning before people wake up. 

“Why did E fall asleep so late. She was so tired. Hope she’s not coming down with something. What was that song she sang for me. Something about a frog that she acted out on her bunk. It was quite impressive. How can I afford to send her to ballet lessons. Dancing. C has a catchup Irish dancing lesson tomorrow. Is that a good idea. Out of routine and she will hate it. She needs new dancing shoes. Sigh. Will G be okay getting daycare girls home and having dinner OH Monday. Parent information night at the school. That’s not going to work out. Timings and exhaustion levels and cranky children levels and nope we can’t do the dancing catchup. Remember to let the teacher know. How soon can you pay the Irish dancing term fees. It’s due this week and will your pay cover it. I think it should but can there be any daycare payment then too. Maybe. Hopefully. Stupid clerical error meaning I wasn’t paid last week and check the accounts to look for the possible dishonour fee for that payment and then it would have been overdrawn too so is there another fee for that stupid stupid stupid pay thank goodness for managers stepping in.

“Money this week. Heart payment on Wednesday will be covered by pay. Irish dancing due Friday. Should be enough available for that and then Centrelink comes in so phew. We can breathe again. E’s birthday presents. What will it be. Can we manage a full Elsa costume probably not. Why did her friend get the whole Elsa hair? Ugh. How can we do that birthday party. Must email daycare about it. Preferably tonight. How do I include the friend who hasn’t moved up to preschool yet. Maybe I message her mum and we meet up elsewhere? Or can I ask daycare staff to sort that?

“Is C’s friend experience right now a start of the year thing, or because she had 3 days off school last week and everyone else got on with their lives, or is it continuing from last year but worsening? Should I talk to anyone about this. How can I make it easier for her. I just want to give her big cuddles. Please be a better week. Can the psychologist help with this. Does the psychologist believe me about her. When’s the next psychologist appointment. I don’t think it’s this week. How will I cover the gap. Dentist. Everyone needs to see a dentist. Should I start C on OT now or later. How do I start her on OT. I said I would take her to the ceramic painting class this week. Hm. If I’m working then I don’t want to be stopping working because it means I will be stopping earning. I hate this time of year from the financial viewpoint.

“How does everyone get to be supported and validated while learning to respect each other and the others’ boundaries? When is Ash Wednesday. Ah. March 5. Which means yeah that girl’s birthday party can’t be on the Sunday. She said the 3rd which is the Monday. She must mean the 2nd. Dr Seuss’ birthday. Green eggs that day for breakfast. Baked goods. Are there enough in the freezer and the cookie jar for this week. Freezer stocks are running low but I think the cookie jar will cover us for a few days. Must buy more spinach. I can’t believe I ran out of spinach. When is G working this week. Have to organise with myself when a strength workout will happen. Remember to pick up C on Monday because J is away. Ooh but G can pick her up Tuesday because he has a bonus day off. How can I remove things from our play zone without having indignant children. Washing machine just finished.”

I had heard it said before, but yeah. Mums have quite the mental load. And it’s not because the dads are useless or uninterested or unable to organise themselves out of a paper bag. (Admittedly, sometimes I think that might be the case but it’s not the case here or for many of our friends.) We didn’t really discuss it, but G and I each have our roles in the family and household. I love doing all of this. It’s just that, sometimes, the voices in my head remind me of that scene in Scrubs when Elliot has her brain opened up and it’s like the universe roars out.

Hello, 2025

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It’s probably an easy guess as to one of my goals for 2025. SO much happens which means that, also, SO much takes up my time which means that, also, SO much just happens and passes us by. Some stuff just happens or changes and it takes a little while to notice that, actually, we seem to be past that “I’m finished my food and even though I know how to say ‘I’m finished eating now’ I choose to fling the remains from my bowl to wherever I can thereby getting the message across as well as some handy throwing practice” stage. Thank goodness. Or the relatively sudden change from reading 15 picture books at night to reading a chapter book at night to reading 5 chapter books before being told to turn off the light because yes you really have to go to sleep it’s nearly 10pm. And there have been some big changes that deserve their own space. But I thought I would tell it how it is today.

First up, The Tired. The Tired that comes from Glenn playing the New Year’s Eve concerts so getting about 3 hours’ sleep. The Tired that comes from E waking up at 4.40 for the day. The Tired that comes from being ON from the first wake to the last asleep, for weeks and weeks. The Tired that comes from being “just a teeny weeny bit not very well” as E would say. The Tired that comes from not being able to sleep during the day thanks to children needing love and attention. Which is wonderful, of course, and I am loving all the huggles and cuggles coming my way, and even the cannonballs that are all the rage right now but with the *very* important rule that the person being jumped on MUST have their eyes open. Lesson learned. Ahem. Tired.

Other things I want to remember from today, this day of new beginnings and fresh starts. ABBA. S insisting on “Mummy Mia” repeatedly then dancing the joyful, carefree dance of a 2-year-old. E rocking out to Kiss with what I am coming to know as her performing face, which reminds me of a librarian caricature. C being very excited about an iPad game and about us learning French together and then reading a Fairy book and making connections, all while looking 12 or 17 with her new pixie haircut. Glenn making us a dinner that ticked (nearly) all the boxes of fancy but also not noticeably fancy so girls could eat it without worrying about “ficy” or boring, plus it was easy for tired girls to eat, plus it was sporting spinach and walnuts even though you wouldn’t know it. 

I made sure to do the things that I NEEDED to do to satisfy myself. I went for a walk in the morning. I did my skincare routine morning and evening (it has been a long, long while since that happened). I ate good, nutritious food. I baked some mini muffins. I started a list of areas to declutter. I decluttered one of those areas (the ironing board is visible once more). I repotted the 3 plants I had bought in the last week – sage, rosemary and… mint (with a bonus basil that had been hiding in the sage). I trimmed the opportunistic tomato plant. I took 2 minutes in the bedroom at dinnertime to breathe before getting onto the bath and bed routines. I gave all of my girls cuddles. I was mindful (in the receptive and thoughtful sense, not the careful sense) of how beautiful and delightful and smart and imaginative and creative and caring each of them is.

And, to demonstrate to myself that some things just don’t change – and they don’t have to, and that’s ok – I started thinking about my goals for 2025 this evening. At about 9.18pm. The main thing is, baby steps. Happy New Year!