starting school

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

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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.

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. 

How Lucky Am I

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E starts big school next year and had her ‘get to know you’ meeting earlier this month and I can’t help thinking how lucky am I. 

How lucky am I that my girls can be educated. Not just can be, but are expected to be educated. How lucky am I that there is a valid option of free (mostly free) education here. Not just the free of a school that you use as a threat while you do what you have to and scrounge to send your kid to the not-horrible private school, but a state school that you don’t want to move away from, a state school that people move countries to be able to send their kids to. That’s our local. How lucky are we?!

This school has such a smooth entry into prep that my very anxious, only did daycare and preschool 2 days a week, did I mention very anxious? – C just sailed right on in without any dramas. Phew. E had a lovely getting to know you meeting with the guidance counsellor who has known us for, you know, well over two years and who has seen E grow from being two years old and strapped in a pram to being able to say she is four and a half and her favourite story (right now) from the Ultimate Disney Princess Treasury that she made me lug in as her favourite book is Aurora and Aurora’s story is at the back and here she’s getting a smoochy kiss from the prince to wake her up and she was asleep because she didn’t know what a spinning wheel looked like and it hurt her finger and Maleficent (said very clearly and carefully) was the bad fairy and there she is. 

As lovely as this interview was, I was also calmed by knowing that this was not an interview to see if they would consider E as a student. I didn’t have to promote her or coach her beforehand or direct her. There was a box of things in front of her, and she played with the doll a bit then attached building structures together and lined up and sorted little figurines then went to play with the blocks that were set up where she joined all the blue together and kept skipping back to check in and take off her sparkly shoes and pick up the doll again. Meanwhile, the grownups talked openly about neurodiversity and support options and brains and development and stimming. I’m fairly sure at least one, maybe five, members of our family fall into the neurodiverse brain category. Being able to talk about the way E is, not knowing where her brain lies in this, and be offered support and avenues and all with the hue of the more we know, the more we can help/accommodate/support a child, was a relief. A blessing. A comfort. How lucky am I that this didn’t come with any negativity or judgment or pursed lips or we need a diagnosis before anything or sorry. Just acceptance with a view to making it work out the best for everyone. 

How lucky am I that I can look forward to the start of school for her knowing that she will have supportive teachers. Knowing that she will know a few kids – kids from daycare who are also coming, kids from the park – and her best (same age) friend will be with her. How lucky am I that she has been practising with her lunchbox since last summer and that she has a big sister who is VERY keen for her to be with her at school and is telling her all about bits of school like playgrounds and classroom expectations and assembly. 

How lucky am I that I can send her off to school every day from next year knowing that I will see her again in the afternoon. How lucky am I that I can work without fear of a news broadcast while my children are at school. How lucky am I that I will worry, yes, and probably quite a bit, too, about all sorts of things with my E starting school, about behaviour and friends and regulation and friends and following rules and friends and playground dangers but none of those things at all ends with me running to school with no shoes on in fear of what I will find. None of those things ends with me crying with relief that it wasn’t my child or with devastation and heartbreak that it was my child. None of those things ends with me breaking devastating news to anyone, or holding one or more of my children close as we grieve together. None of those things.

How lucky am I that I can hold E close at bedtime and mention that I think she might be a bit nervous about big school and find out, yes, she is, because of one boy in the playground last year who made a rude face at her. How lucky am I that all the problems I foresee – about roughhousing boys and picky girls and teacher expectations – are all things I can predict and talk about and plan around. How lucky am I that fire drills and lockdown drills are going to be “storybooked” for her first, and highly unlikely to happen for real life unless it’s a science experiment gone wrong or a bit of weather. 

There is so much for which I am thankful as we stand at the cusp of this new era. As I look at it as an outsider might, I am astonished – where did these three girls come from? Are they all – mine?! And one of them is already at school and the second one is about to start are you for real?!?! I am amazed and delighted, even though this also comes with a hefty dose of worn out, but I feel I can tell my 20- and 30-year-old selves that THIS is coming up. This chaotic joyful bubbliness that is this life. It happens. It’s here. It’s tremendously hard, yet it fills me to overflowing with happiness and gratitude and delight. 

Big

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It finally happened. On Monday our big girl started big school. This was the day I had thought about on and off since C was a little baby and we would walk past and I would tell her, that’s where you will go to school. I worried that she might be an anxious school-goer, or that she might be teased for whatever reason, or she might be a trouble-maker. I hoped that she would be keen and make friends and be kind and behave herself.

Last year C went from being keen (the day after her fourth birthday she asked if she was going to school now? Because she was starting school when she was four and now she is four that means she is going to school, right?) to actually a bit unsure about this whole school thing (I suspect when the boys at daycare started playing rough because, well, hormones), to a bit nervous but maybe a little excited … to EXCITED!!! Very excited but also with an underlying nervousness that she wouldn’t name but was apparent in her behaviour that pushed all of my buttons for the whole month and had me screaming into the bedcovers with frustration. Ahem. Gentle parenting has been a struggle lately.

Some things have been as expected. Nervous excitement. Being very particular about crossing off each day in the 2-week lead-up calendar I drew up for her. Wearing her school uniforms as soon as she could.

Some things have been unexpected. Not needing to worry about buying stationery or school shoes or socks or hair accessories. (The school organises all of the stationery for the early years, and isn’t fussy about shoes or socks or hair.) E coming down with a raging cold the weekend before so instead of doing the last-minute things like naming things and taking children to the park for a big play to run out the nerves we were stuck at home with a clingy snotty toddler. Names were hastily put on things for Monday and I managed to make her a sandwich bag, a snack bag, and a bag tag (see my @annlikesmaking Instagram for pics).

Expected: A horrible night before, in which I went from one child to the next until I finally managed to crash into bed at about 2:20am before E woke for the day at stupid o’clock. But, zero problems getting ready in the morning (that one comes with a hefty dose of relief). First Day of School photos being a slight struggle due to sun, so much hot sun, and a reluctant subject who doesn’t really like being in photos by herself anymore.

Unexpected: the delight when seeing any and all other students walking to school, HER school, that morning. The brutality of the hill which is the sort I used to relish for running training but that was when it was just me, a much fitter and lighter me and not the current me, a bit overweight and a bit older and not quite as fit and having to push a double pram with two healthy children up a steep incline while asking an excited 4-year-old to please stop pulling on the pram. The upside of this hill is that I hope to be much fitter and healthier before too long. The downside is did I mention this is Brisbane and this is summer and hoo boy it has been hot and humid this week. Ugh.

Expected? Unexpected? C skipping and jumping with joy once we were inside the school grounds.Carefully searching the bag rack for her name, then the bottle pouches, then being surprised and happy that she is next to her friends from daycare. 

A surprise for me that is also unsurprising for me: I am loving school lunches. Photos are happening. Instagram posts will be happening. Recipes are being researched and planned and baked. I am feeling a bit more like a mum.

Unexpected consequence of C being at school: I’m getting to spend more time with E. As it turns out, waaaaaay more time with E than I expected as she has apparently stopped napping. This week. (This has caused bedtimes to be all over the place and I am going a bit crazy but hey…). But before this became apparent, we’ve been having a lovely time. She has, admittedly, watched about a bazillion hours of screen time because she’s sick, but we also managed some baking which was far far less wild when it was just her and me instead of with C as well. Her language has exploded this week too and it’s been amazing to witness all of these new words and phrases and her patience with me as I work out that ‘dar’ is for dark which means she would like to wear the cat sunglasses please (dark for dark glasses). There’s a whole E amazement post coming soon.

Suddenly and inevitably, our lives have changed. Walking to and from school. Prepping school lunches. Washing school uniforms. Meeting other parents. Emails from teachers. Hairstyles. Prepping a drink in the freezer. Afternoon teas. Little snippets of a day, making a new friend, learning the rainbow and the alphabet with Auslan, going all around the school to find a cheeky green sheep. It is harder and easier all at once. I know there will be struggles and trials and situations that require tact or smart parenting or assertiveness but at this stage of her school life, I am loving it, she is loving it, I am relieved, and Glenn and I are so proud of our girl. Our big schoolgirl.

Early Starts and New Starts

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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