writing

What We Read This Week (09/03/2025)

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What to read with young girls in the event of an impending cyclone.

What young girls will ask to be read in the event of an impending cyclone.

What to read to escape from the anxiety of an impending cyclone. 

What girls want to be read after the threat of the cyclone has passed and we are stuck with rain and rain and rain and rain.

There have been new favourites. There have been old favourites. There have been books unearthed by curious hands. Comfort books. Books that have things for fingers to do, like touching textures or moving a bee around a maze (which has turned out to be surprisingly comforting for all of my girls, rather like a finger labyrinth). New-enough books that they are still “not boring” to a nearly-7-year-old. 

In our emergency kit – which ended up being a chair in the main bedroom with a pile of leaf blankets, filled water bottles and a soft bunny toy and a pile of books  – I put Matilda, a Dragon Girls special edition, Never Touch a Grumpy Unicorn, Tiddler, Superworm, Tabby McTat, Hammerbarn, Busy Bee, and Peaches for Monsieur Le Curé.

We did not need our emergency kit. It was quite windy on Friday night, and I started to worry about the window nearest my bed. Girls slept right through, solidly, like they were exhausted from all the waiting and then just wanted to wake up to no more cyclone. Sleep was tricky for Glenn and me. I was worrying about trees and windows. Glenn had E next to him (she comes in most nights) and it was not one of those nights where she is asleep and still but rather one of those nights where she is asleep and you cannot wake her but she is flapping around like a gasping fish. Still, it was rather comforting to have this Just In Case emergency kit an arm’s reach away.

I woke up the morning after the cyclone that wasn’t a cyclone anymore to quiet. Such quiet that I thought maybe we were, bizarrely, in the eye of the cyclone. We were not. It was still sitting over the islands and we were calm because the cyclone threat had passed. And E asked me to read her The Very Hungry Caterpillar, which she wanted so many times when she was a baby that her 1st birthday cake was inspired by it. She wanted it repeatedly Saturday morning, and often since then, and now puts her hand over my mouth for a couple of the pages so that she can say the words herself. This afternoon was also a Very Hungry Caterpillar jigsaw puzzle festival, with Sage doing one of our set of four puzzles over and over and over for at least an hour, and then the other girls joining in with the other puzzles. Milo Goes Bananas has also been a popular choice this week, as well as Goodnight Baby Moon, and Slinky Malinki. 

E has started “Just going to the red bookshelf for another book. I be right back” when she can’t fall asleep, and this evening I could see she was in the indecisive muddle that comes with too many choices poorly displayed. Tomorrow daycare is closed and school is supervision only so we are all staying home again, and although the girls probably think they will spend the day jumping up and down in muddy puddles, or at least the growing swimming pool in the garden, some of tomorrow will be spent reorganising the books. 

Waiting For Alfred

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

No birds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cyclone fatigue has set in. Waiting is hard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alfred Is Coming

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Soooo funny story. You know how C has quite a high level of anxiety? Yeah. That. And last week, or maybe the week before that, we were talking about cyclones. Some of you will know where this is headed, but indulge me. C was really worried about cyclones and the possibility of a cyclone and us being in a cyclone. 

“You know what?” I said. “Cyclones don’t actually come this far down the coast. I have never experienced a cyclone in Brisbane. We get the cyclonic effects of more wind and rain, but that’s as far as it goes. We’re safe from cyclones here”.

Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. 

Sunday. Wow it’s windy today, isn’t it? It’s like autumn has been waiting for March to happen and then, BAM. Autumn has entered the building.

Sunday afternoon. Facebook notification the QPS is live. Huh. That usually only happens around extreme weather events. How far north is Great Keppel Island? NO IT’S E’S TURN NEXT YOU JUST HAD A TURN.

Sunday evening. Glenn trying to talk to me while dinner is on. Never a smooth conversation, but this was about the news about the weather. The storm chasing guy is having conniptions because the cyclone that’s off the coast (what?! Oh wait that makes sense now) is set to make landfall in a few days (ooh yay more cooler weather) and the eye is set to pass over Redcliffe. Wait, what?! Redcliffe? That’s, like, really really close. Like, we could be there in an hour or so and we know people and CYCLONES DON’T COME THIS FAR DOWN THE COAST but apparently now they do. Girls kept eating dinner. Oblivious.

Monday morning. On the way to daycare someone passed us, talking on the phone. Talking about taping up windows. A sudden realisation hit that C was going to be hearing a lot of talk about cyclones and emergencies and cyclones and disasters and flooding and cyclones and high winds and destruction and general excitement from others as well as, most likely and could even make a bet on it, gross exaggeration on the part of many of the boys and not a few of the girls, that would have C – who takes most things quite literally – actually thinking that whatever these kids were saying, would happen. Like that the school is going to be washed away. Or that snakes are going to be flung through bedroom windows. Or that we’d be walking in sewage. Ugh. I don’t know. But I know that there is a part of society that seems to be peculiar to boys of a certain age that will make the experience as gruesome as possible. I needed to talk to the girls.

Sure enough, the word “cyclone” made C wrap her arm around mine like a pretzel. “Remember, mummy and daddy will do everything we need to do to keep you girls safe”. I’m still really worried about the cyclone. “This is just a prediction. Often when they develop, they reduce and become just really big storms”. Oh good. That’s what’s going to happen here. “But it also might do as the professionals are predicting, and come in and be a cyclone. We have to be prepared”. I’m really really worried about the cyclone.

I think I managed to reduce her fears by enough that she could function, at least. School was fine. I suspect she is not the only kid in her class with anxiety. She came home happy and unphased. Phew. Of course, I had watched much of one of the live emergency services sessions and gone to the recommended websites and looked at what we need to get and talked with Glenn about it and found the resource on preparing children for it. Thank goodness it is just one highly anxious child. E and S seem most concerned about whether I will let them play at the park, regardless of their level of sickness or the level of wind.

Glenn went to the shops twice. The first time he was surprised by how few people there were around the shopping centre and how busy it was inside. The second time, he started sending me photos of the lines inside, and reporting on the lack of this and that. Pre-cyclone panic buying.

Tuesday. All the girls are sick. Glenn had an early start but thankfully an early finish as well. Blueberry and chocolate pancakes for Pancake Tuesday. I was not at all sad that all the girls had to be home, but girls not at school or daycare meant my plan of doing some shopping early in the day had to change. A shopping trip with well girls is hard enough, let alone a shopping trip with sick girls in a busy and slightly panicky shopping centre before a cyclone in an area not used to cyclones. Thankfully, Auntie J offered to pick things up for us and no way am I turning that one down. It was such a help. C was still worried that the cyclone will hit now. Not until Thursday, we kept telling her. Is the cyclone coming tonight? No. Tonight will be fine. 

Work. Yeah, remember that thing that pays the bills? I had already had to bail on the daily work. I was very glad to be having a delayed job to do, due Thursday. Hm. I also started to worry that I would not be able to complete it on time. Deeeeeeep breaths. Okay. Power is likely to go out Wednesday afternoon. Unlikely before then. Okay. So Monday evening I had started it, a civil case involving a car hire claim following a traffic accident yawn sorry what ooh that was interesting. I still had a good chunk of it to go on Tuesday. Like, possibly three hours of my time. With sick girls. And a deadline thanks to nature a day and a half earlier than official. Deep breaths. Then amazingly, after morning tea on Tuesday, girls were watching movies and NOT fighting and building cubbies and NOT screaming and actually working out those little things like your leg is touching me or your ear is in front of the screen I can’t see. Wow. I snuck to the bedroom where I work and thought I would just get a little bit done but I finished all the typing. All. The. Typing. Emailed work to say this is the situation. Checked and submitted the job after girls were in bed Tuesday night. Satisfaction. Relief.

Random weather. Clear skies. WINDY. Clear skies. Dark clouds. Sunny and windy. RAIN. Sunny cloudy sunny cloudy sunny cloudy sunny windy.

Emergency plan sorted out. Sure, we need to do things like put all the loose bits of everything on the balcony into some storage solution, and washing needs to be done now before the power goes out and before the weather requires it be not outside and candles let’s make candles and what activities do you girls want to have available when we have no power, but mostly, which movies shall we make sure to download so that if we have no internet you can still have something to watch.

Trying to follow the advice for dealing with children. Trying to stay calm. Trying to be honest about what’s coming but reassuring them that we will get through this. Once Glenn was home in the afternoon, there was a real feeling of we have the whole family together. We are hunkering down together. We’ve got this.

Expected and Unexpected Milestones

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

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

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

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

Me: What’s in the what?

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

Me: In the what? The tree?

S: In the what? The tree?

Me: In the tree?

S: In the tree?

Me: The – are you copying me?

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

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

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

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

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

A Snippet of Mornings

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When C started at daycare, one of her first friends was a girl, M, who was a week older than C. Just after the girls turned one, M became a big sister. When they were about to turn 3, M scored another little sister just before E was born. At one of the birthday parties (of a different daycare kid), I remember looking at the mum and thinking, wow, supermum. I asked her, “How do you ever get out the door in the morning?” And she kind of shook it off with a “Oh, we manage”, and then told me they frequently don’t get out the door in time for anything and have daycare calling them asking if they’re actually coming in today? That made my experiences of getting only 2 girls fed and dressed and out the door in what felt like 17 hours feel just a little bit more valid. 

Then that happened to us. We became a family with 3 young girls and C started school and I started a job and suddenly we were having to feed 3 independent girls and clean teeth of 3 independent girls and get clothes onto 3 independent girls who had ideas about what they were going to wear thank you very much and then get shoes onto them brush hair apply sunscreen and hats and bags and shoes and water bottles and are we ever leaving we need to do an emergency nappy change and am I actually dressed myself and can we go yet make sure you close the door behind you. And I understood what M’s mum was on about. You manage.

You manage. You find out with experience just how early everyone needs to be up to be out the door in time. You find out with even more experience what time everyone needs to be getting on with the next task. You find out with experience how to make that next task happen – well, experience, and following as many parenting accounts as possible to provide you with ideas and comprehension and solidarity. 

Those parenting accounts help enormously. Cleaning teeth! How are we getting there? Frog jumps? Kangaroo bounces? Rolling along the wall? Yes you need clean teeth. You are heading to a royal ball. A princess mermaid with breakfast in her teeth might not be allowed in.

Not to say that I don’t lose it… I mean, this happens way more than I would like. But I am getting better at staving that off. Still, it can often feel like being in the surf for just a few minutes. Here is an example.

Me: Okay girls. It’s 7.20. Time to clean teeth!

E: But I not finished yet! 

E slurps milk from her bowl while S gets off her chair holding her not-quite-empty bowl and spills a bit but takes her bowl and spoon to the sink and throws them in with such force that I worry for anything breakable that was in there. C slowly, like a sloth slowly, gets up from her chair and moves past the other girls.

Me: C, are you doing toilet first or teeth first?

C: I don’t need the toilet!

Me: You have to go to the toilet before we leave. Teeth?

C, cross: I’M ABOUT TO DO MY TEETH.

E gets up from the table and goes to daddy on the sofa who is trying to read the news. S has run down the hallway and straight onto E’s bunk.

Me: E – never mind. (I walk down the hallway.) S. S? Where are you? Oh.

S: I sleeping! (Naughty laugh followed by fake snores).

Me: That’s E’s bunk. Out you come. (E rushes down the hallway as she realises invasion of her territory).

E: S! S (drawing out a one-syllable name to be four) that’s MY BUNK.

Me: E, nappy off. Toilet.

E: But S is on my bunk!

Me: Yes, she is. How about you do the right thing for me – C, great. Getting dressed now.

E rips off her nappy, dumps it on the bedroom floor and then is happily cleaning her teeth. I take her nappy to the bin in the bathroom and C opens the wardrobe door. I go back to the bedroom.  S dive bomb corkscrews herself behind the bunk ladder (where I can’t reach her), burying her face in the pillow. I see that C is jumping to get her school dress down from the wardrobe rail so I get the dress down for her and pick out socks for her while I’m there. I hand her the dress and put the socks on her bunk rail. C holds the dress and stays still. I grab an ankle of S and drag her to the edge of the bunk.

Me: Teeth. Now.

S runs into the bathroom and doesn’t stop before barrelling into E on the step at the basin. Seeing an imminent “I was here” fight, I pick up S and move her over for a nappy change. E finishes doing her teeth, dries her hands and face and tummy, and walks out of the bathroom.

Me: E, your clothes are in mummy and daddy’s bedroom.

E looks like she is moving to the main bedroom. I take S’s pyjama pants and nappy off. As I am putting the nappy in the nappy bag, she is off down the hallway with a machine-gun naughty laugh to launch herself onto daddy. I get a nappy but then hear C growling at E in their bedroom.

Me: Girls! What’s going – C, keep getting dressed. Dress. On.

I start down the hallway with a nappy for S.

C: But she’s IN here.

Me, from the living room: It’s her room, too!

C, getting very upset: I can’t get dressed when someone else is in here!

More growling from the bedroom accompanied by naughty laughs from E. I hand the nappy to daddy and he puts it on S while I head back to the war zone.

C: She won’t move! I can’t get dressed!

Me: E, mummy and daddy’s bedroom. C, you can’t be that particular. Three of you share this bedroom. The other two have just as much right to – hello S – be here as – (S is jumping bumping her body into my legs) – you do just please put your clothes on. S, teeth.

I pick up S and take her to the bathroom basin. As I am putting toothpaste on her toothbrush, E lets out a growl-cry of frustration. I start brushing S’s teeth and call out.

Me: E, are you ok? What’s up?

E: I don’t. Want to. Wear. THIS!

Me: What DO you want to wear?

E: Idon’twanttowearthis.

Me: Yes, I – come in here.

E stomps the 2 metres or so from the main bedroom to the bathroom and looks at me with the lowest and grumpiest eyebrows she can manage. 

E: I. DON’T. WANT. TO. WEAR. THIS.

Me: Yep, got that. S, spit out. 

I wash S’s face while she does a long sound to hear the change in sound as my hand moves the water around her, then she gets the hand towel to dry her face and top.

Me: What do you want to wear then?

S runs into the main bedroom and flops her body against the side of the bed.

E: Rainbow top.

Me, running through all her tops and coming up blank: Rainbow top? Do you mean your rainbow skirt?

E: RAINBOW TOP! WITH THE SPARKLES!

I keep thinking as I go into the main bedroom to get S dressed. S does a speed climb onto the bed and I start wrangling her into undies and shorts while she tries to launch herself as quickly as possible to the other side of the bed.

Me: Ohhhhhh that one that now fits S because it’s 3 sizes too—

E: But I want to wear the rainbow top!

Me: I hear you. It’s such a nice top, isn’t it? Daycare won’t let you wear that one, though, because it doesn’t have sleeves.

E: Oh okay.

Me: How about your love heart dress?

E, doing her Sad Bingo Impression: Ohhhhkaaaay.

I finish getting S dressed in her t-shirt and hand her a pair of socks to put on herself. I get undies on E and hand her a pair of socks to put on, then I head to the girls’ room to find E’s love heart dress. C is sitting on the floor with a dress on but not done up, reading a book.

Me: C, thanks for getting your dress on. Do you need help with the zip?

C: Where are my socks?

Me: On the bunk. Do you need – stand up.

While C stands, I get her socks off the bunk then zip her dress. E starts yowling again from the bedroom.

E: I. CAN’T. DO THIS!!!

Me: Just wait, I can come and help. C, socks. (To E) Just a moment. I’m finding your (S appears)

S: I did it my byself!

Me: Well done, S. Living room for hair. C, socks on.

I collect E’s dress and take it to the main bedroom, where she is on her back and struggling as if she is getting into the world’s tightest jeans. I fix her socks for her then she pretends to be a baby as I get her into her dress.

You see? That wasn’t much, was it? Making sure everyone actually has socks on and hair brushed and hair tied back if it’s long enough and has been to the toilet if they don’t wear a nappy feels like a breeze in comparison. I mean, it’s not, but you get the idea.

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.

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.

Hello, 2025

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

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

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

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

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