parenting

School’s Back!

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Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh

Bye, darling girl! I love you! Have a wonderful day!

School is back, and holidays are done. Holidays that went better than last summer and better than feared but still … still had that feeling of gritted teeth. We’re getting through it. How much longer now? Grr.

Morning walking. Walking for physical health but also to find some space in the day, to carve it out for myself, to have the morning sun in my eyes, to breathe fresh air and not have to answer five questions fired at me from multiple sources all at once every ten seconds. Walking because looking after me in this way helps me reset and look after everybody else. 

Taking myself to the bedroom for a break so that I don’t explode. Breathe. Be interrupted during that minute – that one tiny minute of 60 seconds – because sometimes girls can’t even last that long or I have left my breathing space mental break cool down time too late and then I am rushing back out to nurse the injured child or to remind girls of something like we don’t hurt others to get our own way or that sometimes it’s okay to let others do their thing and let me deal with them.

Two girls going to daycare two days a week. The pre-holiday financial stress of knowing there may be zero income to cover this but also the holiday family stress of having three girls together for all the other days so balancing it out to be two days a week of daycare and then five long and tricky days where they’re all together. The relief – such relief! – when I actually was allocated work for every single day that they were at daycare and I could work and earn just that little bit of money that meant that I didn’t have to use up my entire savings to get through the holidays.

Having that little bit of money meant having freedom to buy girls things like an ice cream on a day out, or buy sushi for them for lunch, or buy craft supplies, or buy replacement sandals when one child just stepped into a pond and when I hauled her out immediately there was only one sandal on one foot and the other was lost at the bottom of a pond and there were so many tears but she didn’t have to go home barefoot. Money that meant I could buy C black school shoes, which are not essential for this school but still a nice thing that she asked for and I knew it would help her feel Proper. Buying school shoes and realising that school socks will be better than her multicoloured rainbow unicorn socks so being able to say yes to school socks. I know this doesn’t sound like much but if you’ve been there, you know. Money that meant I could take her to the uniform shop when it opened last week and buy her uniforms, all secondhand, but not stressing that if there was nothing in her size secondhand then I would be buying new. 

Big Days Out. People hearing about these massive outings and saying how amazing I am but me knowing inside that this is just because I am so far from amazing that this is the only way I can keep girls from fighting with each other all day because when they are out they are so beautifully behaved and just seem to get on better. Big Days Out that wear them out but it’s still a balancing act of Big and not so Big that they are actually worn out and get sick from exhaustion then have to stay home from playgrounds and daycare and then we implode.

Big Days Out this summer that included the trip to Bluey’s World and the day at the City Botanic Gardens playground and the trip to my brother and sister-in-law’s new place on Boxing Day where we also saw my parents and my sister-in-law’s parents and brother and it was a huge day that had girls falling asleep on the way home. There was a Big Day Out to the shopping centre to beat the heat and have girls playing in the shopping centre play areas for three or four hours. There was a mummy-daughter shopping trip that was promising to be a wonderful pre-Christmas shopping trip but ended prematurely when the heat and the sunlight and the people and the noise and the noise and the noise and the noise caused poor C to be so overwhelmed she was nearly vomiting. 

There was mummy cooking more. This makes me happy but also oh my goodness the stress of trying to prep dinner just before taking girls outside when it is shady enough but they are definitely at the point of the day when they need to be outside it is real, this stress, and I finally worked out the need to prep dinner way, way earlier, like at lunchtime sort of earlier and then we managed to have maybe three nights at the end of the holidays where it was not so stressful. 

Baking, both together and partially together and managing to do some on my own as girls were doing their own thing. Relishing this together time while also simultaneously finding the stress of having girls fight over the ladder and the step stool and whose turn it is to tip or stir or taste and that moment when you realise you need an ingredient which requires you to leave the preparation area because you don’t have extendable arms so there will be at least one child unsupervised next to uncontained ingredients and stove knobs.

Craft. Not as much as there could be because the mess is a big factor. Also not as much as there could be because then once they have finished gluing coloured pasta shapes to cardboard or gluing cotton wool to a plastic bottle with fairy lights inside it or making glass jars into tea light holders (actually those are quite lovely) then we have all those things in our place needing places to live because of course they cannot ever be thrown away or repurposed. They are Special. 

There were regular trips to the library. I had neglected it somewhat because I feel libraries are a place of calm, for order, for quiet, and this is all the things my girls are not. Plus the lack of cooperation when I say it’s time to go meant it was a very stressful place and experience for me. However, the last few months I gave it another go and it is such a hit. The children’s area with its pretend cafe and its wall games and big armchairs and ‘doctor computer’. New and colourful and attractive and enticing books. Row upon row of chapter books for C. Indoor drinking fountains. The rituals of borrowing books and returning books.

“Hey Siri, play rock and roll music.” “Hey. Siri. Play … STOP! HEY. SIRI!!!!! PLAY. ROCK. AND ROLL. MU. SIC.” As it turns out, I have three rocking rock chicks. Especially E. They love Kiss and Queen and ABBA. All girls can now activate Siri on the HomePod. They are expert at requesting movie soundtracks and have been practising other options like Mamma Mia and I Was Made For Loving You Baby and Rock And Roll All Night. The HomePod is now unplugged as turn taking took a dive and there are only so many times I can listen to children shouting at Siri and then listening to We Will Rock You (much as I love it).

New indoor climbing equipment and balloons and outside time with balloons and scooter and tricycle and ride-on car and playing mermaids and jumping in the massive swimming pool puddle that forms when it rains a lot and the mud oh my goodness the mud that I have had to clean up because when it’s available it is the most favourite thing for the girls ever in their lives.

Even though this feels like it is over, it’s also not really over. All these things will still happen, will still be happening, for the next little while. Weekends still exist. Sick days still happen. We just have all the added extras of school and lunches and activities and girls not having to be in each other’s faces most of the time. 

Annnnd breathe. 

What We Read This Week (26/1/25)

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Friday this week was hot. I mean, it was HOT. Our place is not air conditioned at all. It is usually a few degrees warmer inside than out. Girls are normally prone to bickering regardless of the weather. Thankfully, my husband reminded me that the nearest large shopping centre has air conditioning, and I remembered that my oldest brother had given the girls book vouchers. Off we went.

The girls had a blast choosing their books. I said absolutely no to any Peppa Pig books. Choosing between all the Bluey books was tough, but the girls fought so much over the Magic Xylophone book that it was easily ruled out. (I know. It’s like they haven’t even seen that episode, like, ever. Eye roll).

C had her eyes peeled for the next in the Penny Draws a Best Friend series. We didn’t find the next but a next next, as well as another in the Pearl the Flying Unicorn series. All girls were very keen for the I Love My Family book from Bluey, as well as Let’s Go Home, Baby Bee, which has a little creature to slide around the pages with a finger. I have read the Bluey book maybe five or six times in three days so that was a definite good buy, and the Baby Bee book is just mesmerising, reminding me of calm-down methods used by psychologists and the like.

We are all huge fans of Julia Donaldson so I looked for some more to add to our collection. Tiddler was top of the wish list but not found in the store. Zog and the Flying Doctors, and Tabby McTat, however, were so are now residing on the living room table and being looked through and read by all girls whenever they wish. 

So Friday’s excursion was fruitful. Aside from the book shopping, girls played in the play areas for hours before we came home. And when we eventually did, the inevitable “Can I watch something?” could be met with, “We *just* bought books. How about you read some of them?” And they did. Score.

What We Read This Week (19/1/25)

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There was not as much reading at home this week as there was last week. It was one of those weeks where a few books were read, and a few bedtimes included a story request or 3, but it was not a book-heavy week. 

Actually, this is the sort of week that Old Me used to worry about. “Read to your child every day” can carry a lot of guilt with it if, say, your child thinks it’s hilarious to run as fast as she can away from you, or if you try to start reading them the story that they have picked out and *asked you to read to them* but about three words into the first sentence you are told, quite firmly, to shush. No. No reading. The Old Me used to stress about this until I realised that they actually get a fair bit of reading exposure without me sitting them down after a bath to do Story Time. There is reading throughout the day. They have reading at daycare. More and more, the younger two are seeing C and me doing reading. The New Me has realised that forcing things on toddlers and preschoolers is a futile and frustrating course of action that has the opposite effect than that which is intended.

So this week there was not much, and that’s ok.  C read this chapter book today, which she seemed to enjoy.  “Pearl the Flying Unicorn” by Sally Dodgers and Adele K Thomas. E’s favourite book this week has been “The Moon Book”. Yeah, not its real name. “Goodnight Baby Moon” is NOT it, but the book she borrowed last weekend about Eid is. What a find. All the girls have also been loving a Japanese lift-the-flap type of book, about hatching animals. It makes me want to revise my Japanese characters!

S now has a bookcase next to her bed, with books she can access, so she has gone a little wild. She often falls asleep with a book under her cheek or pushing into her tummy, or being ruffled by her feet. Currently in her cot are the following: Hammerbarn (Bluey); Never Touch a Grumpy Unicorn; Where is Baby’s Belly Button; and an Ella at Eden chapter book. I am not allowed to read her any.

A Snapshot of S Aged 2 Years and Nearly 5 Months

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At the front of our place, there is a wall. It is one of those walls that is there to denote the edge of the property before it becomes council property. It is low – knee height sort of territory – and has four stepped sections as the land slopes towards the train line and the shops and the street at the end. As I use our outside area for outside playtime for girls when I need to – which lately, it seems, is more often than not – I have spent much time on and around that wall. 

Someone doing a longterm time-lapse from the other side of the street would have seen me sitting on the high end, learning how to play with my girls, being pregnant and not pregnant and pregnant and not pregnant and then holding new babies. Walking beside toddlers holding their hands as they brave walking along the wall and then walking beside them just to be there if they took a misstep as they did it “all my byself”.  There have been countless games of ring-a-ring-a-rosy just inside the wall. Millions of bubbles. Girls have learnt how to roll down hills there. I have been a doctor and a patient and a burger shop customer and an ice cream customer and an ice cream store helper. Princess parties happen there. Pretend ambulances blare their sirens as a team of pint-sized paramedics and doctors and nurses attend the apparently-suddenly-injured, fixing broken legs with bandaids and upsets with lollipops. Mermaids swim down the hill. Girls have learnt to scoot. All three girls now race a scooter, a Minnie Mouse ride-on car and a flamingo tricycle down the path then haul their current vehicle back up the top to do it again.

S is in the phase now of wanting to walk on the wall. If I take out my phone to catch a memory of her rainbow sparkly headband matching her rainbow sparkly sandals, or the tiny hairs framing her face being set off in the afternoon sun, or a curl escaping from its hairband, or her little hand holding mine tight, she points her left hand with all the force of an exorcist and growls “NO PHOTOS” so I am forced to take mental snapshots and write down what I can.

“Mummy, help!” “Mummy, hol’ my hand”. “Mummy, BIN MEEEE” (catch me as I jump off and spin me around and around as I look up at you with glee and laughing eyes until you put me down all dizzy). “I walk”. “Mummy, come on!” “I got you”.

Walking confidently, holding my hand. Confidently, yet clutching me tight. Looking for the moon and pointing with excitement when it’s spotted. Brushing hair out of her eyes. Watching trains trundle by or whizz by. Doggies. Waving at most people who are walking past. Making most people who are walking past smile, changing them from downcast, everyday drudgery faces to lighter, happier faces who often smile and say “hello” in return and sometimes even stay for a chat. Approaching each stepped edge of the wall cautiously, left hand coming across to clutch my top as she gingerly steps down and breathes out as she is safe and releases her grip. Arriving at the end of the wall and jumping off, sticking the landing. Looking up at me, half-laughing, as she says, “Mummy, come on!” Laughing to the point of almost falling over as we both run up the hill to do it all again.

S is so, so independent. She is so sure of herself, and advocates for herself and those around her admirably. “I don’t want to eat that”, “Nuh-uh”, “That’s not fair”, “THAT’S MINE”, “My turn”, “You turn”, and so many more phrases, are all heard on a regular basis. She also still apparently feels that, despite her advanced language skills, she often has to stick up for herself by scratching and biting. That aspect I find incredibly challenging to deal with, and E – the usual victim – is getting jack of it. On the upside, though, through her grins in the aftermath she will say sorry, then “You okay? You need ice pack?” So there’s hope yet.

I know she will outgrow the biting and scratching. I hope she does not outgrow sticking up for herself and others. I know she will outgrow elbow dimples and toddler shoulder muscles and plump cheeks and tumbling hair and cautious steps and needing to hold my hand and needing me at all, really, so I am here for all of it, and enjoying the cuddles and the beautiful strong personality that promises to be as forceful as a river.

What We Read This Week (12/1/25)

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Things have progressed somewhat since my last “What We Read This Week” post. My girls now all love books. Phew! 

C now reads voraciously. Mostly she now reads silently, but when she does read out loud I am very proud to hear her doing voices and expression. She is very engaging! 

E switched from being impossible to read to, to loving books. She doesn’t always ask for one at bedtime, but if she has missed a sleep train then “May you please read me a book?” comes out.

S. Hoo boy. What a journey it has been. They say it’s not a good idea to compare your kids, but really. C: lift the flaps and board books and paper books all fine from age dot. E: enthusiastic lifting of flaps as a baby means there are some that are no longer attached. S: all flaps removed; all board books pulled apart; now very careful and sincere with paper books.

All this, plus a developing ability for my girls to adhere to my “It’s time to go now” statements, have meant we have started visiting the local library again. Christmas was a very “book-y” Christmas, from us as well as from relatives. I am often pondering how to incorporate a reading nook for the girls and how to house the books and how to keep on top of library books.

So what we read this week is rather more wide-ranging than it used to be. Hallelujah! Instead of listing alllllllll of the books that have been collecting on the girls’ floor this week (and on my bedside table and on the sofa and on the rocking horse of all places), I picked a book the girls have each favoured reading this weekend, plus some that I found for them that I am loving, plus – gasp – a book for ME! Astonishing.

Whenever I need to take a breather in the bedroom, S comes in to help me feel better (that new doctor kit is getting a workout), and insists I read “Blossom Possum” as many times as she can wheedle out of me. I think it was a find at the school library’s culled book fair, and it is chock full of  Australianisms and rhymes. E found a book about Eid at the library and I read it to her 3 times at the library and another several times today. It is a beautiful book. C is on a mission to read every Geronimo Stilton book that the council library has to offer. I’m not sure how many there are. I’m not sure how many she has read. “Happy Birthday, Geronimo!” was the find yesterday, which was finished by the afternoon. 

“Be You” is one I feel every kid should have in their mind as early as possible. “What Feelings Do When No One’s Looking” is a very lovely approach to accepting our emotions, something I struggle with but am trying to overcome. And “My Name Is A Gift” is the one that makes me tear up. We thought long and hard about names for our girls; their names and meanings are so precious to us. “My Name Is A Gift” is a beautiful expression of the importance of a name and the importance of saying it correctly. 

Because C had finished her sole library book within a few hours, and I had cleared off my bedside table with its stack of her books, “What Katy Did” was floating around and, sure enough, C started reading it and just casually left it on my pillow. 

I actually started reading for me again recently. I have a large number of books on my phone, and I read a murder mystery last month, the kind of thing that I used to read all the time. When I started the second in the series, I got tired of it. I won’t blab on about why, but it reignited my desire to read good books. So at the library, I went on a hunt for books by an author I have followed on Twitter and Instagram for years but never read. Two books by Matt Haig were found; I borrowed one, “The Last Family In England”, and I have no regrets.

Bluey’s World. For Real Life.

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Way back last year, when we found out that Bluey’s World was going to happen for real life, Glenn and I knew we would want to take the girls. But this was not the kind of thing we could just finance for a “What are we doing today? Hm I dunno, let’s maybe go to Bluey’s World” kind of thing. Five of us would be a substantial outlay. That, along with the strong desire (and need, really), to keep THINGS to a minimum, resulted in the main Christmas present being One Whole Family Trip To Bluey’s World.

The gasps! The excitement! The “For real life!”s! We were cereal.

Every. Single. Morning. Since Christmas Day. The first thing E has done, even while barely awake or seemingly even approaching awake, was to ask, “Are we going to Bluey’s World today?” And when the answer was “No, not today”, that was such a hard thing for an excited 3-year-old to bear. 

But Thursday was the day. Wackadoo!

We had afternoon tickets because a), it was cheaper, and b), even though I feel I now have a good handle on getting girls up and ready to get out the door for whatever it is by 8 (ish), I didn’t want to have that panic of getting girls up and ready to get out the door with all of the extra things that I knew we would need for a big trip like this one. The downside, of course, was having to deal with very excited girls who are almost at the thing they want to be at. “Are we going to Bluey’s World today?”  “Yes!” “Yay! When are we going? I want to catch the Bingo ferry. Are we going today?” On repeat. But eventually we were out the door, with S walking for the first time until we were on the train.

I’m not here to give a review. I’m not here to recap what you already know if you’ve already been. I’m not going to give any spoilers if you haven’t yet been but plan to. I am here to put down those little elements special to our family.

Elements like our girls being the life of the party, totally engaged with the experience. Our girls being the kids who screamed – SCREAMED!!! – with excitement, several times. Our girls who were jumping with joy and delight that couldn’t come out any other way. Our girls who were first through each entrance. Except for that one bit with the TV, which held S entranced.

Elements like the lights catching E’s purple dress and turning her ultraviolet and sparkly. S wearing the romper I made for E two years ago which is from licensed Bluey fabric and having staff delighted with her outfit. C’s skort twirling as she jumped and danced.

Elements like the joy of finding only some of the many, many details that make this experience, just like Bluey episodes, so much more layered and complex than what it could have been if they weren’t, you know, the team at Bluey.  Long dogs? Check. Little squiggles of grass? Spotted. Bins? Oh yeah.  Food in the kitchen? Nicely played.  Purple underpants? Haha, yes.

Elements like the bits of the house that I didn’t consider as a part that we would see, but see them we did and use them, too. Like the Flatpack swing – heaven. The little indoor tent with seats that, as soon as I saw it, I knew at least one of my girls would be in it already and sure enough, S was having a lovely sit and think.  Stumpfest. Sandpit (thank goodness, not real). Pedaly, two of them, with a granny in each. Bin chickens (thankfully, not real). Yoga ball. Bones.

(I admit, I also cried. Like, a lot. I often tear up or outright sob when watching Bluey so I really shouldn’t have been surprised but still. There was that bit with Chilli and I was suddenly overwhelmed.)

Elements like S being totally unphased by so many people and not being next to a parent the entire time. E being totally full of beans and cheeky and sassy the entire trip. C being totally overwhelmed with excitement but also anxiety about the ferry and where everyone was every step of the way and making sure E and S were within sight and then holding a hand and showing them something they may have missed.

Elements like the gift shop madness. By this stage, S was in the play area (where she played for a good 40 minutes with no need for parental intervention and was devastated when she was pulled off the play equipment when we really needed to start heading home). E and C were both adamant they wanted a Floppy plushie. I was adamant that that was not going to happen. In the wake of their very best Please Faces, I was able to remind C that they were $35 each, and I would have to buy one for each girl, and that means three of them (also internally thinking of the space taken up by three Floppy plushies), so how much money would that be? And a moment later, “$105! Oh I see”, and she was off on a mission to find less expensive toys. I felt we did well in Alfie’s gift store. Something for each of us, plus activity books for the girls to share, and it came in at a reasonable price that I had mentally budgeted for when planning the outing. The person before me at the register? More than three times that amount. Good for her, but I also had a mini panic and mental recalculation before approaching the register.

Needless to say, we were all absolutely knackered when we arrived home. I even made S get out of the stroller and walk a little to keep her from fully falling asleep. Did I think girls would sleep early? Yes. Did I decide to have dinner after they were asleep because I thought they would be asleep early? Also yes. Did girls go to sleep early? Of course not. I ate my dinner at about 8.45. Was it worth it? Absolutely.

How to do this

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Thinking I’ll get back to the blog this year is all very well, but how? How can I find time in my life to get my thoughts out and write about all the stuff of our life? I had thought that after children were asleep would be the go, but no. That is turning into grownup conversation time – you know, the chance to talk about the little things of our day or that we’ve come across while scrolling and not have small people wanting our attention or needing our help or screaming about whatever it is that they are screaming about now.  (It seems at least once a week I come across something on Instagram demonstrating how hard it is to talk with another adult when you have children around. It’s like watching a movie of our family). Plus, I’m often now falling asleep on the floor in the girls’ room so that they can all feel safe when they go to sleep. Amazing, sure, but it really cuts into Me Time.

So, how? Recently I have started to make changes in my life. I have been just a little bit overweight since just before becoming pregnant with E and nothing I was doing seemed to help. I started a course that is helping me lose weight but also helping with life. It is all about small habits that can stick and become just what you do. My big block to losing weight was exercise. I couldn’t exercise the way I wanted when I wanted because children were around and Glenn works random hours so I couldn’t get into an exercise habit. But I made myself work out how I could find time to exercise every day and realised that, actually, getting up at 5.30 and going for a walk is totally my thing so that’s what I do now. An extra habit to help this is to put my walking clothes in the bathroom the night before. The girls know now that if I’m not there, I’m walking, and they are fine with daddy and jigsaw puzzles and books and Bluey.

Over the weekend I thought of what I was wanting to write about next and felt stymied when I just couldn’t do it. So I had a think. How was this going to work? When am I going to find time to write? Well, before the exercise. I can definitely wake at 5 and make myself a cup of tea and enjoy a bit more Me Time before going for a walk. It has the same drawback as trying to do a home workout, in that in the last 15 minutes, for example, I have investigated E whimpering (needed the quilt back over her) and thought that S was waking up and would therefore need me and then be all delightful and excited to be up and going for a walk with me but I think her random cry of ‘I GET UUPPPP’ was actually the flipping around in the cot sound and she might be back asleep. I will check in a moment.

So there it is. New year, new habit. Will this last? I hope so. Do I feel excited about this? Definitely for real life sure as sure. Will I manage to go to bed earlier in order to counter the earlier wake? We’ll see.

Update: S was fast asleep. Plus, I was much more energetic on my walk because I had been awake for a bit already instead of stepping out, bleary-eyed, trying to wake up while I exercised. Winning.

To Stop Time

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I love a good short story.  Getting lost in a good book is one thing, of course, but a well-crafted short story is a gem.  One in particular I remember from my high school years is about a watch that will stop time for all eternity if you click a button, but nobody ever chooses to stop it.  There’s always something to look forward to.

But.

There ARE bits of my life that I want to make sure I remember forever, that I want to etch in my brain and my memory and my soul for all eternity.  

Like Sunday morning.  

I was too sick to go anywhere so we were stuck at home.  We asked Siri to play some music – Coco, maybe, or Mamma Mia! – and the girls started dancing.  Dancing in our cramped and messy living room.  Dancing to the music and as their souls dictated.  E, with her moves very much from the heart, turned to me and motioned for me to pick her up and dance, and so I did.  We did.  The joy on her face and in her body, her smile that lights up the world and stuns my soul, holding her tight and swinging around as she held on and bubbled over with the delight of it, THIS was one of my almost-time-stopping-worthy moments.

Even though life is really hard right now, with all sorts of outer stressors on top of parenting three young children and the tired have I mentioned the tired the tired is sometimes so overwhelming it is breathtaking but even though we are just, only just, coping in many areas of our lives, this is a really beautiful time.

We have three girls who are all emerging as the next reveal of themselves.  Does that make sense?  S is learning and practising all these new skills, like the alphabet song, and asking if we want to hear Baa Baa Black Sheep before launching into the first few lines, and saying so many words and animal sounds, and walking around with a skirt or bandanna or quilt over her face and only occasionally walking into a wall, and trying to dress herself by putting everything imaginable over her legs, and climbing onto the bed and pretending to sleep on my side, and climbing into her cot, and climbing out of her cot, and putting on shoes and socks and taking them off.

E is practising ballet, and speaking her own mind, and doing pretend play where I am the baby and she will kiss me goodbye as she goes off to work then I’m the doctor and need to put a bandaid on her broken leg, and pretending to swim around our backyard sea as a mermaid, and getting dressed “all my by-self”, and only wearing undies unless she’s at home, and recognising more and more letters and telling me which number is which and making me a cup of tea by pressing the button on the kettle and choosing a tea bag and putting it in a cup for me then, if necessary, using her muscles to lift the 3L milk bottle out of the fridge.

C is reading, reading so well that I suddenly have to be careful if she comes in when I am working, and still talking talking talking all the time, and building breathtaking cubbies (thanks, Bluey!), and loving her weekly maths challenge folders, and showing me her developing skills in Irish dancing, and loving chess, and building small things with even smaller building blocks that I keep finding one of in random places on the floor, and being very attached to a particular toy for a few days before becoming obsessed with a different toy, and laying out her pyjamas on her bed once she is dressed in the morning.

They are all at a stage where they can play together.  Or play independently.  I mean, play independently within our family rules, like using scissors for approved paper only, and … actually, that’s the only one I can think of that really works.  “Stay out of mummy and daddy’s bedroom”, “Only use nail polish if mummy says it’s ok and then you must use a towel and then stay in the bathroom for a few minutes for the polish to dry is anybody listening oh never mind”, “Clean up after yourself”, “NO PINS”, “Doors are not for playing”, and “No jumping from the sofa to the – too late” are all rules that are apparently just there “for funsies”.  

It is chaotic, gloriously chaotic.  It is hard work.  It is so heartwarmingly delightful as well as maddeningly infuriating, like having a little one sleeping in bed with you and hearing them giggle in their sleep right before kicking you in the face.  Absolutely wonderful, making my heart sing and want to stop time but also, what will it be like when…?  

A Year Ago, When We Became Five

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Well, hi. It has been a long time. A very, very Long Time. And while I could go on about how things have changed, and all the things – both big and small – that have changed and happened since my last post, I won’t. I’ll get to that. You know, [waves hand] later.

What has really been on my mind lately has been a year ago. A year ago, our little family of five all met. Our littlest bub had just been born, and her big sisters came to meet her in the hospital the next day. For one chaotic and delightful and nerve-wracking half hour, we were all together in my little part of the hospital ward.

The photos from that brief visit show the chaos. C was standing by, sucking a yoghurt pouch, obviously quietly delighted and loving her newest sister, but also possibly a bit peeved that no-one was letting her actually hold the new baby. E flung herself backwards on the bed and nearly fell off the bed multiple times and tried to pull out all the cables and push all the buttons that are present in a hospital bed setting. And Glenn, who was trying so hard to be a good husband and good new dad and good established dad and make it out of there with the same children he went in with all in one piece.

But for all the chaos, and the first real need for parental octopus tentacles to prevent all the accidents that almost happened, my memory of this day makes my heart swell with happiness and love.

And it’s mostly because of E.

She was so little, really. Just 18 months. Still in the hardly-any-hair, maybe she’s a boy? stage. Hardly able to say anything much. And because she was so little and such a baby still, I hadn’t been able to talk with her in the months leading up to this time about what was going on. What was about to happen. What this big tummy meant.

Because she was so young, I had also worried about what having a third baby would do to our second baby. She was such a calm baby, such a good sleeper and eater, and I worried that changing things would change her. Middle child and all that.

I worried, because I had no idea what she would be like with another small child, let alone a baby. She’d been going to daycare for months by then but did she even know what a baby was? I had no idea. How would she react? I had no idea. How would I present her sister, very much loved, just as she was herself, just as her big sister was, and convey that they are all from us and all loved, equally and fully, by us? I had no idea.

But what happened in the hospital that day, happened, and could not have been planned or wished or orchestrated. E came around the bed, wide-eyed, pointed to the baby and said, slowly and with wonder, “Bebeh”, with her whole face lighting up. And all my worries vanished. 

I mean, they were replaced with a thousand more. Some rather pressing, like, will E fall off this bed or make me cough or pull a cord or remove the catheter bag. Some more what-if, like, will they fall over each other playing, or hit each other in the face before they learn gentle hands, or throw wooden blocks at each other when frustrated. Some more for me as their mum, like, will I be attending to one while the other runs to where they shouldn’t and then a car— or will I sow resentment by unwittingly favouring one child in some way over another, or will I have an accident with a carrier again while trying to keep another child safe… The list goes for an eternity, it seems.

But the joys – they are each treasured, and unexpected, and so delightful. 

Like the way S will break into a whole-body smile when she sees one of her sisters. Like the way E will look at me worriedly and say “Oh no, baby S crying” when she hears a nap-time cry. Like the way C will show S how to build a blocks tower. Or S will crawl speedily along the grass to play ball with the big girls. Or E will wrestle and snuggle while I’m feeding S and produce chuckles like I’ve never heard. Or C will read a book to S when I’m making a cup of tea in the morning. Or S will have a bath with either big sister and be so overjoyed all she can do is kick and splash for minutes on end to the point that the older one can’t take any more water in the face. E and S in the pram, facing opposite directions but holding hands. E stroking S’s hair and saying, “I luh you baby S”. 

There are more, and more, and more.  I will go on and on, but not now. Now is for remembering the day a year ago, when sisters met and made my heart sing.

Saturday Morning Art Time

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

We’ve had so many changes lately. Just since the start of the year, there has been C no longer at daycare, C starting school, lunches and baking and sickness and pickups and drop-offs and dinners and uniforms and homework and new friends and old friends in new contexts. This last week I have added to the upheaval by insisting on changing up the sleeping arrangements which has meant clearing space here in order to have space to move furniture out of that room to there and other things moving down to the garage just for now. A lot of change. 

And I have 3 very sensitive girls. 

One way my girls destress is through watching shows on ABC Kids, which works well until E decides she’s tired of an episode or a show and takes control and changes things. Or the internet stops working. Total and utter devastation.

Another way my girls destress is art. Colouring in. Painting. Making pictures. Drawing. Colouring the easel (or table or tiles or walls).

After school tends to be a screen time snack time veg out session. Sometimes there is homework or dancing or ice painting too. Saturdays I was just letting roll along, until last week. We needed nappy liners and milk, so I took the girls to the shops.

It was horrible.

I can’t remember any particulars, just that it was horrible. Once we were home, and things had calmed down somewhat and children who nap were napping, I realised that C’s behaviour was a sign of needing time out. That, I can accommodate.

I suggested Saturday morning become an Art-Time Time-Out and she was delighted. 

This weekend was our first Saturday Morning Art Time session. C drew fairies all morning, while telling me allllllll about fairies in general and these fairies in particular and their names and how they were all related and then cutting them out, very carefully, with her scissors.

E joined in with her new washable paints. Mostly by painting her body and tablecloth and high chair, followed by a bath. 

I had much happier girls. We had a much more relaxed and calm Saturday. I found out little snippets of other things that had happened at school, new signs she had learnt, a new song, games she played, that she has evolved in her art style just in the last few weeks, that she seems to like names that start with ‘L’. All of the fairies have names that start with ‘L’. 

So it is decided. As much as possible, we won’t be doing mundane things like shopping on weekends. Instead, art.

I’m always up for new ideas, too. Do you have a way that helps your school kid destress on the weekend? Do you have a favourite art activity to do with young children? I’d love to hear about it in the comments!

In other news, WordPress kept reminding me about adding a payment or donation button. Last week, I finally sorted it out. If you would like to send some funds my way, thank you! Every little bit really, really helps. I’ll probably have different text for different contexts but we’ll see how creative or apt I can remain. Ha. 

Help fund our art supplies – thank you!