Early Starts and New Starts

There have been so many starts. Consequently, so much of the stuff of our life has been missed here. 

Like C finishing preschool and 4 years of childcare and going to prep transition mornings and finding out her big school class and teachers and starting to get uniforms. Like E moving from kisses being sometimes a little peck but sometimes ‘wahwah’ to always a little peck, moving up to the toddler room and now to pre-kindy, knowing all the actions to songs, singing the last word or two at the end of every phrase in songs from Frozen and Frozen II and Encanto! and Moana. Like S being fascinated by her hands and rolling both ways and revealing herself to be a definite redhead and smelling deliciously of burnt biscuit. Like the huge event of me taking girls to church, for the first time in 3 years, so that people keep getting confused about which girl is which as E is the age most people last saw C.

Like, Christmas. The joy of making things for everyone. The spiritual calm that comes with going to church in the lead up to Christmas so that the day is not just about getting things and eating food and hoping girls sleep on Christmas Eve so that mischief can happen.

Like, New Year’s Eve. Glenn only playing one concert so being home in time for us to be together at midnight for the first time in 5 years. But also C staying up painting with glitter glue so that she could watch the fireworks and running down the hallway shouting I’m so excited!!! then being rather disappointed at the skimpy view available from her bedroom. And E going to sleep relatively easily but then having a very unsettled night because of those 4 teeth still working their way through and then the bonus of loud, very loud, louder than they’ve ever been here, fireworks startling her and keeping her awake. And S, who normally sleeps through once she’s had a feed after her bath, waking at 10:30 and just not going back to sleep until well after midnight. What a fun start to the year.

And, why? Why have there been so many starts but no completions? Mostly E. Partly me.

E has taken to waking early. A couple of times in the last few months she has woken after 6 but usually she is awake before 5:30. Sometimes – like this morning, yay – way before 5. This morning she was awake just after 3, then S woke and wouldn’t resettle (teething, groan) and E kept looking out for her then was just… awake. And just after 4am C woke and wanted to come into our bed and suddenly the whole family is awake and there are yelps of you’re touching my leg and screams because someone is in the (perceived) wrong spot. Eventually, every morning, E gets to a point where she gets my iPad and hands it to me so I can set up ABC Kids and she watches shows and scrolls to other shows and occasionally leaves the app and gets into stocks or mail and will say ‘uh ohhhh’ repeatedly until I fix it and take her back to shows.

And I have been keeping my sanity through all this crazy time by making things. Staying up very very late and making things. Crochet. Craft. Sewing. I love it. I love creating something, especially if it is made from something that would have otherwise been discarded. Especially if it is made with love for someone I love. It is great for my sanity and self esteem. It is less great for the sleep or writing. But, new year and new plans… we’ll see. Here goes!

And, if you are keen to support me in making things do check out my sites:

Redbubble: annagraphica.redbubble.com

Madeit: madeit.com.au/cassiannacraft

Instagram: @annalikesmaking and @cassiannacraft

Let Me Remember

We are deep in the trenches.  The days that are flying by in a fog of getting to the next nap or mealtime or bedtime, days that are filled with how. How am I going to fill that time between morning tea and lunch, or afternoon tea and dinner. How am I going to stay awake after yet another night of horribly broken sleep. How am I going to keep my cool when I am massively sleep-deprived and lacking in any time to be creative for myself and I am merely coping, just getting by and hoping I am doing enough and hoping I can remember.

Hoping I can remember, because I know this all passes, passes so so quickly, and before I know it the girls will be taller than me and borrowing my clothes and shoes and makeup and spending more time out of the home than here.

So many things to remember.

Let me remember the softness. The softness of the hair, so soft that I could rest my cheek on it all day. The softness of the skin, the soft skin of tiny hands as they hold and explore and reach and gripple, the soft skin of bigger hands as they slip into mine when we cross a road or descend the stairs, the soft skin of plump cheeks as a head rests on my shoulder.

Let me remember the heaviness. The heaviness of a baby. The solid weight of a little baby. The hefty weight of an older baby. The lanky weight of a leggy preschooler who still wants a cuddle-walk to the bathroom to clean her teeth but is all legs and knees and elbows and ribs.

Let me remember the curves. The curve of round cheeks. The slight curve of eyelashes when the eyes are closed in sleep. The gentle curve of fingers relaxed in sleep.

Let me remember the spontaneity and fun of children. The squeak laugh that starts in the belly and spurts out with delight. The sudden raspberry conversation across the breakfast table. The imminent 3-year-old tantrum waylaid when the baby thinks it is a game of peek-a-boo.

Let me remember them when I too am older and worrying about girls being independent and asserting themselves and setting foot in the big wide world. Let me remember how little and precious and fragile and fiercely independent they are, now.

Let me remember their babyhood and preschool years, the memories that cannot be caught in a photo, the memories that they will not have themselves.

Let me remember.