writing

Keeping Mum

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Instructions for motherhood. Eat plenty of healthy foods while pregnant. No, not that much. Exercise regularly during pregnancy. No, not that way. And not that much. Be consistent in your everything. But also, you need to be flexible and recognise that everything changes all the time. Talk to your baby as much as possible. This is how they learn language. Don’t use so many words when talking to your child. They can’t take it in. It overwhelms their brain. 

It’s this last one that I have been working on lately. Maybe a month before Christmas, I stopped. Not entirely, of course. But my verbal output has drastically reduced. Here’s why and what I have noticed as a result.

The why. Have you seen the episode of Bluey (yes, there’s an episode for everything) called Show and Tell? Well, that’s why, in a nutshell. Grownups talk too much. Kids can’t take in all those words. Minimise the words to maximise the understanding. Well, not so much understanding as engagement and connection. They have better things to do, and even if their body is trained to stay still and listen and say an appropriately-timed “Okay” or “Yes” or “Sorry”, their brain has really moved on.

Further to the why, though, is the why for me now. I mean, I’ve been a huge fan of Bluey since C started watching it during lockdown. And I have been reading parenting posts on social media for quite some time now in order to glean all the helpful tips I can without going the next step of enrolling in a child psychology course. I thought I was fulfilling the “talk but not too much” criterion of parenting. I was still, though, frequently saying (please don’t judge me I’m still learning) phrases like, “Am I talking to myself here?”, and “Is anybody listening to me?” Bonus, E is in the 4-year-old girl phase of super chatty combined with the lack of impulse control from E and S that means that I am interrupted allllllll the time. Reducing my output has reduced my frustration at being interrupted and at not being heard 

Also in the why for me now category is volume control. I am trying soooooo hard to reduce my shouting. Yelling. Raising my voice. For a huge number of reasons, most of which I think will be bleedingly obvious so I won’t waste anyone’s time here, but also, C is super sensitive to loud sounds so any shouting just upsets her and doesn’t have any other effect, and also, shouting has no effect. Kids don’t magically listen if the volume is raised. Kids don’t instantly stop doing the thing that made the shout happen. Often, they just keep going but now think it’s a game and isn’t that fun. My number one job of keeping them safe needed a better way.

I took inspiration from Mrs March in Little Women. Hold it in. Keep mum. Purse those lips. If necessary, do something else with my body, like rage washing or rage cleaning or rage sorting. She doesn’t call it that, of course, but the result is the same. 

There was also the What If making me still talk a lot of What if they are about to do something that will hurt them or another? But you know what? We are into the learn by doing stage. It has other names, too, but I’m not going to type them here for my mum to read (Hi mum!). The general idea is, do what you can to keep your kids safe but there will come a time when they’re just going to do what they want anyway and then they can find out for themselves why it was a not recommended course of action. Like, if you climb on those rocks, cool, but when you fall off (which you will because I know you don’t have that much rock climbing experience or balance capability just yet) then you’re going to fall into that big mud puddle there and being muddy isn’t a sensory experience you enjoy. Oh look at that. You fell. You’re muddy. You’re screaming about being muddy. The Old Me would have then given the lecture. The, “See? This is why I said not to climb on the rocks. I could see” – and honestly, I’m bored by myself. Poor kids. New Me: “Yep. You’re muddy. Shall we try to clean you up here or head home now?”

This approach of minimal talking has become most apparent at bedtimes. Bedtimes, when I am still on and haven’t been able to do much of anything for me or on my own since a walk (ideally) around 6am. Bedtimes, when I have been trying so hard all day to be thoughtful and caring and curious about what on earth led them to do that thing that ended up with everyone in tears. Bedtimes, when I’m actually just wanting to curl up in bed myself because it’s actually really hard to function every day on an average of less than five hours’ sleep a night for years. 

Keeping mum started out for me as a little experiment. Did it make a difference. Did it reduce my shouting. Did it reduce my stress. Did it reduce my guilt. Did it make bedtimes easier. The answer? A resounding “yes” to all of these. Especially yes to reducing the guilt. That may sound strange, but when you talk more, you say more, and if you’re at the end of your tether, it’s easier to let words slip out that are regrettable, that you hope were words that were ignored like so many other words but you can never tell, can you. Three years from now you may have a kid saying, “Remember that time when I was four and a half and you said you wanted to run away and join the circus because at least animals go to sleep when they’re tired”. Not that I’ve ever said that, but you get the idea. Children don’t hear a word that you want them to hear. Children hear things when you think they’re not listening.

I feel I should spell out, though, that this hasn’t meant I have stopped talking altogether. In fact, I don’t think anyone has even actually noticed my reduction in wordiness except for me. More importantly, though, the important things are definitely still said on a daily basis. I love you. I’m so glad you’re with us. I’m so glad I get to be your mummy. 

There are newer snippets that I am trying to work in, too, thanks to my parenting gurus on social media. I’m feeling very frustrated right now so I’m going to do some deep breaths and try to push the wall away. I got so worked up earlier today, but you helped me so much by just being calm next to me so I could take deep breaths and calm down, too. 

And my new personal favourite (from Nurtured First) because I don’t think I’ve been explicit enough in sharing with my girls that I can handle all their emotions (because, to be brutally honest with myself, I don’t deal very well with the bigger emotions) and that I love them always and forever, no matter what: 

I love you when you’re happy. I love you when you’re mad. I love you when you’re silly. I love you when you’re sad.

Change Is Afoot

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

Well, lots, as it turns out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2025 Review

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy new year! 

Christmas 2025 Rundown

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cold Turkey

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There’s been a change. A big change. My kids have been addicted – and I mean full-scale, outrageously, what have I done to my kids, addicted – to screens. It became our way of life, of coping, of persuading, of cajoling. And I hated it. I didn’t know my girls anymore, except for their tastes in shows. Our place is a mess and even more frustratingly so, is a giant mess of things that are not played with except in passing. Why bother having toys and activities for children who just stare at a screen all day? 

Behaviour, too, was becoming problematic. Some of it could be attributed to their ages and the normal developmental milestones that come with these particular ages. S, for example, is in a “First, no”, stage, where whatever you offer or ask is replied with a “NO”, even if it’s something she loves. Fun times. But behaviour which is demanding and needing something now and not being able to wait or focus or listen to real people or negotiate in play? Problematic, and causing my stress levels to escalate. 

I was doing lots of reading about the effects of screens on kids. I was seeing lots of helpful ways to ease them off screens. I was starting to work some of these things into our lives. It felt about as effective as watching grass grow. But all the advice was, ease them into it, remember they have to learn new skills and you have to learn new ways, too. Be kind to yourself and to them. 

Cool, cool.

Also, there’s the parenting advice of don’t make empty threats. Make a consequence (not punishment, we don’t use that word anymore do we) that fits the behaviour you’re wishing to change, and then make sure you follow through. Great.

Now. Let’s look at a few of weeks ago. S had napped at daycare. Groan. E and S were bouncing off the walls not going to sleep that night. I tried all sorts of things, pulling snippets from SO MANY posts I have read recently. Nothing worked. Even if something started to work with one of them, the other one would start giggling or playing and set off the one who was starting to settle. I couldn’t stay in the whole time. They were happy, for sure, and as I started to do some work I could hear “Next patient!” At nearly 8.30, I was back in their room and just lying on the floor crying while they stuffed around. Glenn came in and said very sternly, “No. More. IPad. Ever.” And walked out.

S lay down straightaway and was asleep within 3 minutes. E took a whole lot longer because she’d listened to the words. Like, just for tomorrow morning? Are we giving it away? Can we get a new one then? You mean – we can’t use the iPad??? Mostly in order to get her to sleep, I said they may be able to earn it back. I must admit, it’s been more than four weeks and I haven’t worked out an Earn Your iPad system yet…

Do my girls sleep better at night? Um, no. I haven’t been able to sew much for some time now. I feel worn out to the point of taking time off work yesterday in order to deal with the things I needed to do for E and then sleep. Do they still demand something right now? yesBUT I am pleased to report that I am more able to respond with a soon or a not now or a you’re next and that they are better able to accept it and wait. When the answer is actually no, C and E are much much better at responding with, “Oh, okay”, without pleading or whining or sulking about it.

Do my girls still want to be on the iPad first thing? Sigh. Yes. But not always. They know now that they won’t get to watch it during eating time, either, and I may have that question asked of me once a weekend. Maybe twice, but the response is never argued with.

Admittedly, this has not been the cold turkey change I had thought we were doing. C, not a perpetrator in the particular bedtime battle that started this, and also being a Big Girl who has homework that requires screen time, is allowed to use the iPad in the evenings. Also if girls are at daycare and she has done everything we ask of her. A few weeks ago, S was too sick for daycare so, in order for me to be able to work at least a little bit, she was allowed on during the day. I’m now, shall we say, adept at finding Christmas Elsa, Blue Elsa, Let It Go Elsa and Ice Elsa. Sometimes when girls have been awake super early (4am is now light so days start early) and I have really needed to get work done, I have relented and let the iPad come out. Generally, though, the iPad is not a Big Thing anymore.

Which has meant that I can watch a movie with them on the weekend and really enjoy it. All of us watching together, for the most part. Snuggles happen. Fast-forwarding of scary bits happen. More snuggles and cuddles and hand holding and hair stroking and just enjoying this experience. Screens are back to where they should be, as a treat and Sometimes Thing and not a right. I still feel like I need about eight times more Me Time in the day, but I have reduced the Mum Guilt by a LOT and I am enjoying being a mum soooo much more.

Halloween 2025

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Happy Halloween! 

Ok, that’s out of the way. I mean, I feel so obliged to say that but it also feels like I moved to a new country as an adult and Halloween is one of their customs so I do Halloween now. I am definitely, decidedly and firmly on the side of cute Halloween tempered with historical Halloween.

So. My kids can dress up for daycare, or if C comes up with an idea that is achievable (NOT a werewolf which is what her heart desired this year), she can wear that. This year, E and S were both ghosts for daycare’s dress-up day on Thursday. Thank you, old white sheets and good scissors and the makeup I rarely use and Glenn’s makeup artistry skills.

They were all sore at me for not taking them trick or treating. I’m not sure how they actually think trick or treating works, but in our street with [doing a mental walk along our street] I think only two actual houses and all the rest apartment buildings and no-one visibly decorated for Halloween, I can’t see this as a successful venture. Not to mention the discomfort I feel about strangers getting to know my chatty, friendly, open children. No. Thank. You.

This is how Halloween happened for us this year instead.

I made a barm brack, an Irish Halloween bread. I was hoping it would be a lovely success and I could share a recipe here but it did not go brilliantly and I will be hunting for a different recipe for next time. E and S were allowed to watch Wicked on daddy’s computer while C was at school. I filled themed candy moulds with white chocolate and mango bits and Biscoff biscuits. I prepped some boo-nanas. Afternoon tea ended up being Oreos (original as well as mint) and Milo for the girls, tea and brack for me. We watched Hocus Pocus over afternoon tea and dinner. This was my first time watching it and all the girls seemed to enjoy it. C did one of her pretending to like something because she thought I wanted her to like it but actually it was too scary so there went my night.

Dinner was mummies and bread cut out into pumpkin and ghost shapes. Girls were so tired though that not all that much was eaten but apparently it was DELICIOUS because there were dots of honey holding the mummy eyes onto the pastry.

After baths, and when S was asleep already, I showed E and C how to make paper strip lanterns and we made a line of them up the hallway. Halloween craft done, plus it meant we had lovely flickering LED tea lights making the place cosy.

Girls had some of the chocolate on Saturday at morning tea, but honestly were more excited about having bonus frozen mango alongside it. Boo-nanas were a hit, as per usual, and I have been informed by C that this is our Halloween tradition. Must not skip it ever. 

What We Read This Week (18/10/2025)

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Is this a 4-year-old thing? I don’t remember C doing it, so I am not convinced. Child is almost – almost – asleep. There have been several long  slow eye blinks. Then, “Mummy. Two makes me fall asleep. I promise.” Oh. You’re not asleep. So you read two books, then, “Mummy? Actually, five makes me fall asleep. This one first”, holding out Fox in Socks, or Wish for a Fish, or anything that is not at all short and actually gives my mouth a workout to be able to read it. Where did that sleep train go? Was there an announcement or did it just sail right on by?

It’s been a week like that. Consequently, there was a hefty stack of books to be cleared near the bed. Never Pop a Penguin. Wish for a Fish. Letters from Felix. Pig Out. Easter Bunny Egg Hunt. Let’s Go Home, Baby Bee. The Little Mermaid. Plus library books. The girls chose a good selection this week. A Very Wiggly Christmas, and I am told each time who is who and what is what as soon as possible. Dreaming, which is a beautiful example of Aboriginal culture and Dreamtime and passing knowledge and culture to the next generation, as well as being a dreamy book for bedtime. Ten Minutes To Bed, Little Koala, which still has all the flaps and has a lovely sleepy koala at the end. Robin Robin, which is a book version of the Netflix movie by the same creators as Wallace and Gromit. C liked that one so much she had snuck it onto her bunk for the week.

And, my new all-time favourite book, Sleeping Handsome and the Princess Engineer. I have not read it every day, but that is because it is just too funny for bedtime. I have, though, read it several times at bedtime, anyway. It’s just that good. As the title suggests, it’s Sleeping Beauty with a few twists, and my feminist, raising strong and resilient girls mind loves it. 

C has branched out a bit this week. She is still loving all the Geronimo and Thea Stilton books she can get her hands on, but at her school library borrowing session last week, she picked up a graphic novel in the Amulet series and got into it. At the library, she found one and that was her afternoon sorted. Every morning this week, instead of asking to play a game on the iPad, she has just started reading in bed. Her Where’s Wally Now prize book, and now Kiki Kallira, a hefty chapter book by Sangu Mandanna, which is very exciting. Whenever I go in to let her know breakfast is on the table, she will tell me in as much depth as I will allow what the latest exciting development is.

We are still reading Anne of Green Gables and thoroughly enjoying it. The only problem is that C wants to change her hair colour and length to match Anne. I was not expecting this.

Weekend Rundown

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When I started this blog (over 4 years ago now! Wild), I had a plan. Of course I had a plan. I was aiming for 3-4 posts a week. A craft that we’d done, something that we’d made in the kitchen, what we had been reading, and hopefully a little reflection of something that had been going on, like a collection of funny things the girls had said, or new milestones like when someone learns to walk or make their own sandwiches. Things evolve, of course. I mean, for starters, the two girls of the blog beginnings have turned into three girls. Reading took a hit for a while. Crafts have also been sporadic. Weekend food prep felt important recently. Work has grown considerably from actually fairly unemployed to working about 40 hours a week. 

Recently, books have come back to be a big part of our lives. To the Me of three years ago with a baby who couldn’t snuggle in for a bedtime story at all and who feared said baby would be well behind when she reached school because she hadn’t had daily stories from you, just chill. Don’t try to force it and she’ll come around. Girls have been having way (I mean, WAAAAYY) too much screen time but that is in the process of being cut considerably, which is going to get its own post soon. This is a big area of life that I am working on. Games and crafts the girls are doing are getting more traction. Snack and some meal element prep is also becoming more of a thing, as work and school and healthy eating are more predominant in our lives. So I thought I might do a weekend rundown post, sharing what has happened when I have 2-3 girls at home with me for 3 days.

So. This weekend felt Big. E had her first proper dancing lessons on Saturday morning, and so I had the first time of taking all three girls for one girl to do dancing. I brought snacks and activities so all was well. The brand new ballet shoes I bought for E at 7.57 for an 8am lesson, though, made it through ballet and the jazz part of jazz and tap but were nicked, for want of a better word, by another girl when they all changed into tap shoes. I am working up to my Private School Mum persona to sort this out. Girls did painting during the day, and watched TV during the middle of the day while I baked, and then we went off to the library. As mentioned in the last books post, C read an entire graphic novel over the course of the afternoon.

Sunday was church, where C learned how to plait yarn and I think I might have a new mum friend maybe. Then, as it was on our way home anyway, we went to the Celtic Festival. It was hot. It was sunny. It was dry. It was pretty, with all the jacarandas in bloom around the place, but I wish they picked a different time of year for this festival. We watched some Irish dancing. We were not there for any highland dancing, which I am starting to really want to start to learn, or have maybe S start. I think it would really suit her. I digress. We had iced teas and the girls turned back to lovely from the cranky pantses they were becoming. I took them home for lunch and the promised ice cream, then back again for the costume competition (very strangely run) and playing in the playground. Needless to say, they were suitably worn out and we had an early dinner. 

Clear blue sky with a swoop of jacaranda trees in purple flowering glory. There are less-glorious trees in the background. A festival is on, with a purple tent top next to the jacarandas as well as other tents and vans, and people milling about.

In all of this, E had found a partially-coloured in dragonfly picture of C’s. I printed her out a different one, which she has been steadily and carefully working on since Sunday evening. It will be a welcome back present for her favourite preschool teacher who had been gone for ages (4 weeks and it has been a long 4 weeks) and was finally back today. I am incredibly impressed with E’s care and skill here, not to mention her commitment to quality. She isn’t speeding it up and doing a rush job or a messy job or an incomplete job. She is working to make this a wonderful picture, no matter how long it takes. It’s beautiful.

What We Read This Week (11/10/2025)

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What a week it has been for books in our family. I admit, there has been little reading aside from one or two short ones if a girl is having trouble falling asleep.  The little readers version of The Little Mermaid. We’re Going On a Bear Hunt. The lost teddy bear book with the letters inside (which, although I like the illustrations and I like that it is a Tasmanian family and I like that it has letters in envelopes which are SUCH fun, the filler bits in the story feel contrived, as if someone needed to reach a word count or – more likely – they had little elements of a story that they wanted to include and so put them into this one).

But as mentioned in Book Week in August, C’s school does Book Week not in the middle of the craziness of all that is term 3, but at the start of term 4. Which is perfect, apart from the heat that is often present which does rather have an impact on costumes. But right after school holidays is great so that when kids are bored during the school holidays, “How about you work on your Book Week costume?” can be thrown around by parents as something to do to stave off the screen time, earning eye rolls and groans and resistance to make those holidays wonderfully joyful and stress-free. 

Ahem. C had the idea in August that she could be the tree from The Giving Tree. I had ideas. She had ideas. It came to the holidays and she told me she very precisely what her costume was to be. I told her my ideas. That was wrong. She wanted to wrap a cardboard box around her torso and stick some green fringing to the top. And she was desperate to win. This was a huge factor. I’m not sure what Book Week is like where you are, but last year one of the winners was a kid who was Snow White AND the seven dwarves. And the year before, a girl in a Cinderella outfit complete with tiara and something like glass shoes and she was inside a homemade cardboard pumpkin coach did NOT win. I was preparing myself for dealing with a very disappointed 7-and-a-half-year-old.

Especially as her first-born perfectionism and a healthy dose of wanting to enjoy not sharing the iPad with her sisters meant that she just did not get started on this costume. Last Sunday, I took all the girls outside with a roll of butcher paper and a bottle of green paint so we got the green paper sorted out at least, as well as making a thorough mess of the outside areas. That made for a good physical activity Monday morning, I must say. Tuesday, big talk about doing this costume before it was the night before. Wednesday, same thing. Thursday morning, she cut out some big sheets of the green paper first thing. Thursday night, I had a talk with her about look at where we are. I’m going to have my shower and then you are getting out of bed and we are making this costume together.

You know how many times she has fallen asleep before, say, 8.30pm this year? Maybe twice. One of those was, of course, Thursday night. She was asleep when I had finished showering at 8.13. Unbelievable. I did my best with this costume, and thankfully she was awake bright and early Friday morning. She ended up in a basic brown skirt/dress, my new linen long-sleeved top, and a stapled together headdress with the green paper. She had scrunched a piece of red paper into an apple, and Glenn stapled green leaves to it and tied it to a string to hang on her wrist. 

There were definitely vibes of no adult intervention. But, she also looked like an elegant tree. And you know what? She won the year 2 “Best DIY Spirit” prize. We are all stoked.

Two of the judges were from the local council library, and of course they talked about the library a bit, and so of course E and S were then at me to go back to the library. This afternoon, we did. I paid the fine on all our very overdue books. We borrowed a bunch more, some of which are gold. I will delve into them more next week, I think. I’m tired.

Beach Break

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We did a spring break. A mini vacation. A very brief respite from our everyday. Glenn had some bonus time off booked. I took a day off work and we – well, I want to say skipped down to the Gold Coast but that does not at all match with the length of the trip there or back thanks to no trains on the Gold Coast line for, as it turns out, about a month which encompasses the whole school holidays including the long weekend WHAT ARE THEY THINKING but anyway. It was an impromptu booking a week beforehand, so only a week of S thinking we were going that day to the beach where she would build sandcastles and splash in the water. That was a long week.

In writing this post, I have tried writing out a blow-by-blow and it just goes on and on and for someone who’s not actually in our family why would you read that? No. I’ll shorten it for you a tad. You’re welcome.

Day 1. Report card: B … B- … I mean, it was a tough day. Getting to the Gold Coast for us is usually about 90 minutes, maybe 2 hours if connections don’t quite go our way and we are staying at the more southern end. But instead of a zippy train, train, tram, we had to do train, train, rail bus, rail bus that had to go on the highway with all the traffic that doesn’t know how to merge apparently and my goodness me that took a long time, tram. Girls were fantastic, despite the 5 hour trip. We had snacks and did things like look for car and truck colours and there were no screens except to look on the map. 

Day 1 had an anxious C whose anxious came out in grumpy contrariness. I was giving myself an A+ for handling it until I snapped in the late afternoon after walking with her and S along the beach from Q1 to near our hotel (about a kilometre) where both girls wanted to walk in the water and both girls got entirely soaked and sandy and I had a hoarse voice from calling to C to not be so far out and then we were talking about dinner and going to a restaurant for dinner as we had discussed as a whole family already and E had told that to her favourite daycare teacher as the thing she was actually most looking forward to but C started kicking off about not wanting to go anywhere from the hotel once we were back. I snapped. 

As it turned out, we did not go out to dinner.

Glenn had a fairly stressful Day 1, also, with children wanting to sit on him for pretty much the entire trip and then worrying about girls eating – not that I don’t worry about this, too, thank you, but I have also learned through much experience that food is lower on their list than all sorts of other things. If they’re playing, they will hardly eat. If they’re tired, small serves. If they have had a long trip and they know the beach is RIGHT THERE then they will eat the most minimal amount of food so they can be done with it and go to the beach. Then he also had the dinner brain in and so he was the one who went off to find takeaway for us to have in our hotel room on the balcony table that we brought inside and trying to serve it so we didn’t have noodles going everywhere and making sure girls had relatively fair serves of noodles and protein and veg so there weren’t fights over who had more broccoli and S please please please use a wipe not the bed to clean up your sauce.

To top it all off, girls were so exhausted that all three of them declared at 6pm – S I X P M – that they were tired and wanted to go to bed. S was asleep on her tummy right at the edge of her bed by 7 or so. C and E … not even close. So not even close that I don’t even know when it was they each fell asleep because I was actually curled up crying in our bed, overwhelmed by washed out hopes and the frustration of girls who can’t sleep after a big day. Bonus was S needed me during the night and so I ended up sleeping in her bed with her which would have been lovely but for all the wet sand that she had brought in with her when we came in after the beach. 

But then it was dawn and I am giving Day 2 an A. Dawn. Whole family photo in matching family Bluey pyjamas. Breakfast on the balcony, marvelling at how high we are. Visit to the hotel pool. Time in the very chilly water and photos and girls running on the grass and delighting in togs and beauty and water. 

And then there was the beach. The beach for hours. Sparkling waves. E terrified of the water after thinking the moving sand the day before was quicksand but then, bucket refill after bucket refill, getting more and more confident, confident enough to jump in the waves at the very edge a little bit, filling the air with screamsqueals of laughter. A delighted S running to and fro on the sand, making serious work of building sandcastle after sandcastle. Girls screaming with joy. 

C jumping to be in the water with me, and then we were in the water together and something shifted for us. Waist-deep in the water, jumping with the breaking waves, turning side-on to brace ourselves against the bigger waves, being in sparkling refreshing saltwater, being free, heart swelling.

Just holding my little girl who is approaching my shoulder height and remembering how little she used to be and realising how little she still is and feeling her trust in me and just holding her and realising that this – this experiencing the ocean with a child old enough to stand up and take this guidance – this was something I had wanted in my life. Not as something on my mental list for this particular holiday, but something as inner and longstanding as when I was a kid, I assumed I would have kids of my own and bring them to the beach and there are things you have to teach them and things you would do with them. Building sandcastles. Don’t flick a sandy towel. Jump at the water’s edge. Stay between the flags. Be in the water safely. Be a safe person for your child so they can cling to you in a range of emotions. Learn to – well, not quite bodysurf as I never really managed that, but be waist-deep in breaking waves and have waves breaking around you. I had not realised I had this need until we were in the midst of it and I had to savour the happy without succumbing to the happy tears and alarming all the other swimmers. It fixed C up, too, and she would have spent the entire day in there if I had let her.

But sun and hangry were beginning to overcome so we removed ourselves from this wonderful place and had our fancy (enough) restaurant meal for lunch before ice creams and starting the long but thankfully not nearly as long as the day before trip home. S was very much not happy with us for making home our real home and not our holiday house home so I copped it with her whole body frustration but when she had felt her feelings it got less bad. And then… then we were home. Home in time for Glenn to whip up a quick and relatively nutritious dinner to feed girls who were exhausted but, you know, still couldn’t sleep at a normal time but anyway. Home. Fed. Asleep eventually, with brains full of new experiences and new senses and new accomplishments and sand and water and salt and shells and sun and crashing waves and swimming pools and views to the mountains and the ocean. Such a break.