Winter solstice

I welcomed the sunrise on the morning after the winter solstice in the solitude of my still-sleeping house. The first cup of tea of the day was beside me on the window-sill, making miniature mist on the cold glass.

Slowly the long, long night - the longest night of the year - burned away into grey dawn. The first light pierced the antique glass above our front door, now pink, now gold, and soon the whole room swam with morning. Upstairs, my family began to stir, and the day began.

My winter coat, draped over a chair to dry, still smelled of damp earth and woodsmoke from the previous night's solstice bonfire (a bonfire which, thanks to a week of rain, had taken a lot more coaxing to ignite and somewhat lacked the primal oomph of last year's fire, but was nevertheless beautiful and brilliant in the end).

On the solstice night there had been a tiny break in the clouds as we waited for the bonfire to catch alight and, seeing it, Ralph had yelled "The moon! I want to touch the moon!" We showed the children the Southern Cross, and the two Pointers that show the way, and, glowing steadily directly above the moon, we found Venus. Ancient fires and rocks, all of us, spinning and hurtling through millennia, marking the dark days. And the light ones too.

As the morning's temperature crept into double digits, I ventured into my frost-melty garden to dig and plant and prune, and to think some alone thoughts about winter and hibernation and stillness, and about all the quiet rest and rejuvenation that happens underground, for life to burst forth life in spring.

Anticipation

When you are nearly four, anticipation is palpable. Tangible.

It dominates your mealtimes. What will my cake look like? Will all my friends sing Happy Birthday? Can we have hot chocolate?

And your friendships. I am nearly four. Am I older than my other friends? Will my hair be longer than all my friends' hair now? Will my feet be bigger than all my friends'?

Cleaning the house before your party, you don't even mind hiding your toys to make room for the party games. You can put them away now, Mummy, I don't mind. You help your mother decorate the house with the posters and banners and streamers and balloons you chose from Big W; mix up polymer snow-powder; smooth out tiny, handmade, paper snowflakes in your little almost-four hands.

Anticipation permeates your dreams. Quick! I have to get ready for my party! you yell, still fathoms-deep in sleep. (I will come to your party, your brother drowsily replies, before sinking back into his own dreams.)

................................

I didn't want to host yet another party in my house, but Scout begged me to do it. She didn't want to celebrate her birthday anywhere else. It was a lot of work, as parties always are. But in the weeks and days beforehand, as the day grew near and nearer still, I came to understand the joy of anticipation through her eyes. Even the most mundane of tasks: tidying, vacuuming, grocery shopping; became acts of thrilling expectation, and gave her joy before the real joy of the party.

I guess we never stop learning from our children.

Animal etiquette

"No animal, according to the rules of animal-etiquette, is ever expected to do anything strenuous, or heroic, or even moderately active during the off-season of winter." - Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

We are recovering from Scout's fourth birthday party yesterday. As luck would have it, today is a public holiday, so I intend to be unheroic and inactive, all day. Back soon! xo

Scout says, Ralph says

"'If you knew how great is a mother's love,' Wendy told them triumphantly, 'you would have no fear.'" JM Barrie, Peter Pan

Ralph has taken to calling me "Big Mamma," which is not particularly flattering, but relates adorably to "Little Mamma," his sister.

During an argument... Ralph: I put you in the bin, Scout! Scout: Well, you're not my best friend. Ralph: I DO want to be your best friend! Scout: Then say I am not in the bin. Ralph: I put you OUT of the bin! Scout: Alright, what balloon would you like?

And more about misbehaviour... Me, to Ralph: Can you please be a good boy today? Ralph: No! I will be A. Naughty. Boy! Me: Please? Ralph: NOOOOOOO! Me: Oh dear. I feel sad when you are naughty. Ralph (cuddles me around the neck): Alright, I will be a good boy. Scout: I will be naughty!

Ralph: Mummy? Me: Yes? Ralph: I'm lovely to see you, Mummy.

Scout: Mummy, you are a queen and you will look the same when you are a little old lady.

Me: Scout, thank you for doing such a great job tidying up the play-dough. Scout: You might want to give me something for that.

Lunch time. Sandwiches apparently give the children magic powers, and Ralph is determined to do what he calls "naughty magic"... Me: Quick Scout! Eat some magic sandwiches so you can counter Ralph's magic spells! Scout (takes a big bite of her sandwich): One, two, three... (get it? COUNTer?)

Ralph: This is a lovely autumn day for a chocolate milkshake.

Music teacher is handing out maracas to all the children... Me: What do you say, Ralph? Ralph (brandishing maracas): Let's rock!

Scout hands me a fist full of coins... "This is for you because you never have any money. Now put it in your purse so you don't lose it."

Ralph: Do aeroplanes have bladders for their wee?

Kids have been arguing and yelling at each other all morning... Me: Hey guys, can anyone remember that I told you this was a No Fight Day? (long pause) Ralph: No, it IS a fight day! Scout: Yeah it IS a fight day! Both kids: Fight day! Fight day! Fight day! (united at last)

Scout: Mummy, I want to keep you.

Mother's Day

There are two pairs of tiny, mud-covered wellies in the hallway by our front door. And if you are aged two or three, you will know that that is a sign of a day well spent: muddy wellies suggest explorations, rain-soaked adventures, (Ralph's curls gone wild), and, of course, the time-honoured joy of jumping up and down in muddy puddles.

Yesterday was Mother's Day and, do you know what? Call me Hallmark but I felt the love. It started with both children on our bed in the morning, Ralph asking "Can you let the cat in?" and Scout squeezing me around the neck, saying, "Ahh my Mummy. I love you more than me." You could have stopped the day right there and it would have been complete for me.

We had brunch with a friend at Bebida on Smith Street and, alongside the best eggs I've had in a longggg time, they also managed to give me the best Mother's Day brunch that money could buy, being a really great (grown-up!) atmosphere, without any member of staff skipping a beat that we had brought two small children with us. They were super friendly, super helpful, super cool and the food was super good. This, combined with the fact that both children were preternaturally well-behaved, made it a stress free and thoroughly enjoyable meal. We followed up with a scoop each at Gelato Messina, and the kids didn't even make a mess of their clothes. Because, Mother's Day magic!

As I carried Ralph back along Smith Street, I whispered into his curls, "I love you." "Can you say it louder?" he asked. "I love you!" I announced, in my big voice. "I love you Mummy," said Ralph. "I love you I love you I LOVE YOU!" A lump formed in my throat. (And then he continued, "I love that red car, I love that light, I love that wall." But I will take my wins where I find them).

Scout woke first from her afternoon nap, so she and I went out together to CERES (more jumping up and down in muddy puddles) to buy some plants for our garden, as well as a particularly lovely monstera deliciosa for inside the house. Because apparently, on Mother's Day you actually TURN INTO your mother. I swear I could feel my mother approving of my choice of Mother's Day present, even all the way from Poland, where she and my father are adventuring right now. (I miss my mum! Happy Mother's Day, Mum!) Scout carefully selected a fair-trade Bolga Basket woven out of elephant grass by mothers in Ghana, which will serve as a 'pot' for the monstera in my bedroom.

When we got home, the children and I spent an hour playing "babies." This is a great game to play when you're tired because, as a baby, you get to lie down on the floor and not do particularly much. In this iteration of the game, both Ralph and I were the babies, and Scout was our mother. It was bedtime, and she gave us toys to cuddle in bed. But we were (upon instruction) 'naughty,' and insisted on playing instead of sleeping. If you are a particularly wily mother (ahem), you can learn to work the system of this game. For example, crying "Wah, wah! Mummy this baby can't sleep because she needs a foot massage!"

Let's just say that Scout is a very attentive mummy.

At dinner Mr B and I decanted a lovely bottle of red wine and lit candles in the dining room, with a bad/hilarious/great record from the 1960s on the old Blaupunkt, featuring popular classical pieces from Mozart and Beethoven and other similar composers, set alongside some wonderfully tacky drum beats and guitar 'fillers'.

And that brings us up to my right now (your last night). I am sitting on the couch, watching some renovation show or other on the TV. Both children and Mr B are upstairs, probably snoring. Our cat Ruby is beside me on the couch, purring and also keeping my feet warm. Soon she and I will join everyone else in the family in slumber. Mother's Day 2016, over and out.

ps. Me and my mum, a very long time ago...

Image credit: Sarah Boyle, licensed for unlimited use under Creative Commons

Scout says Ralph says

Scout (rubbing her belly): These pancakes are delicious. My tummy says yum-my.

Ralph (rubbing his belly): My yellow t-shirt says YUMMY too.

At bed time...

Scout: I love you to the aliens' planet, and a million.

Ralph: I love you to my rocket ship and I also love the aliens' planet.

At another bedtime, when their father was overseas...

"I love you past the aliens' planet and all the way to Daddy!"

During a book photoshoot...

Me: This photo is supposed to tell a story. It is cold and rainy outside. But inside, the person is all cosy and warm, snuggled into blankets on the couch, drinking tea and reading a letter from a friend. Maybe they have just gotten up to make some toast...

Scout: Can I be that person? (pause) And can you make me some toast?

Scout (cuddling her dolly): Do you wish you were as good at Mummying as me?

Me: Yes!

Scout: It's ok, don't cry. You did TEACH me how to do it.

Scout: Ring ring! Hello moon? Moon? Can you come down please?

At bed time...

Me: Thank you for a really good day.

Scout: Thank you for being a really good Mummy.

Ralph: Can I bounce a ball on your head?

Disorganised Easter

Can you believe Easter will be here in less than a week? It's so early this year! Last year I was all over the Easter craft, and loving it. If you'd like to learn a wonderful, natural (easy!) way of dying eggs and creating beautiful botanical prints on them, like these below, here is a post I wrote about how to do that, last year. I hope we find the time to do this again!

Things are a lot more chaotic in the Easter preparation stakes this year, with Mr B having been overseas since late Feb, plus  photo-shoots to complete for my book, on top of the normal parenting-work-life roles, so I've decided to forego a lot. I've cancelled the roast-lamb-for-friends party that we usually host on Easter Sunday, and I am sorry to say that at the time of writing, there has been no Easter craft whatsoever going on around these here parts.

I did however feed my kids hot cross buns for afternoon-tea the other day. AND we are going full steam ahead for our second annual family-and-friends Easter egg hunt. This is something I host with two other friends, and last year was such a beautiful time. The photos you see in this post are from that day. We show up in the early morning and deposit literally thousands of eggs in the dew-soaked grass. The Easter bunny makes an appearance, a local cafe delivers coffee for the grown-ups, and there are great big mounds of buttered hot cross buns ready for consumption. This is the one Easter activity I've committed to this year, and I'm probably looking forward to it more than the kids are!

Oh my little Ralph, filching Easter eggs from the Easter Bunny's basket. I can't believe he wasn't even walking or talking, only this time last year. Where did my baby go?

Gifts for a first birthday

Our friend's daughter is turning one next week, and it has got me thinking about the sorts of gifts to buy for this birthday. It's always a tricky one. The parents are SO PROUD, and rightly so. They have made it through a whole year with their new baby and managed to keep them alive. One year is a massive turning-point in all the good things and exhausting things about being a parent.

Plenty of derogatory words have been said about first birthdays being more for the parents than the child, to which I say DUH. Of course they are! And rightly so because frankly, the parents have done the lion's share of the work to get to this point! (Don't get me wrong, babies are awesome. I wish I had started having them earlier because I seriously would have like about eight. And I get that they are adjusting to, you know, Earth, for the first time, and that's not something to be sniffed at. But let's be honest: there's not a whole of exhaustion to be found in the sleep-feed-cry-cuddle-poo-play cycle, when played on repeat for 12 months).

Anyway, back to the point of this post(!)

So you have been invited to a first birthday party. What present do you buy? They're too little for you to have any helpful idea about their likes and dislikes. You don't want to get anything too young, because they'll grow out of them so quickly. But you don't want to give them something totally inappropriate.

What you see here is a short list of gifts that our children were given when they turned one, that have stood the test of time in terms of popularity and durability. My children are now aged two and three-and-a-half, and both of them still play with all of these. When I think about it, most of these toys are the types that can grow with the child, so that they play with them very differently now to the way they played with them when they were little... but they DO still play with them!

Onward to the list.

Stacking building blocks

These typically come in sets of ten, and are made out of sturdy cardboard. They are five-sided cubes that stack away neatly inside each other. When Ralph was one, his favourite game was for one of us to build a "tower" and then he would knock it down. Now he is two and I watch him building his own towers, carefully figuring out which sized 'block' is big enough to support the next. (And yes, he and his sister still like to knock those towers down).

Doctor's kit

We bought this kit (why yes it IS Peppa Pig themed. Don't judge!) when Scout was about one. Thanks to a stable but regularly-checked heart condition she has had from birth, plus a nasty bout of septicaemia when she was 11 months old, Scout developed a devout fear of doctors, and all kinds of medical intervention (even bandaids!). She loves role-play, so we thought a doctor's kit might help to remove some of the stigma. It maybe helped that situation a quarter of a fraction so in that sense it was a fail, but in every other sense, it has been a fantastic toy. The children both still play with it regularly. The other day I saw Ralph performing a "check-up" on Scout, using all the different instruments appropriately. Except that he listened to her heart through her leg.

Things on wheels

Scout has a green car she was given on her first birthday and she and Ralph still love to play with it. Anything (safe) on wheels is a long-term winner. I've pictured the bus here because it is extra popular, for a number of reasons. I bought this for Ralph when he was one. He loved "brooming" it around the room, but also loved that the roof opened up (there are little wooden people in there - I just kept those confiscated until he became big enough for them not to be a choking hazard). One of his favourite games (other than brooming) is to put little things into big things, so he uses this bus to hold all his matchbox cars. Also, he and Scout two days ago spent almost an hour with this bus and another big truck, racing them at top speed up and down the length of the house. I don't know. They both just love things on wheels.

Ride-on things on wheels

Here is another great toy. This bumble-bee, a gift for Scout I think when she was about one, is a perennial favourite, not only with my kids but also with visitors. Before Ralph could walk, he would hold onto the bee's antlers and move around on his knees (the wheels went too fast for it to double as a 'walker'). He used it to transport things on its back and, as he grew older, started to ride on it. This one is still so popular that they fight over having turns.

A stroller

When Scout turned one, a friend of ours gave her this stroller*, to cart around the dolly she had also been given from another friend (we were deep into "second baby on the way" mode and coming up with all kinds of schemes to help her adjust to life with a baby). Once Scout learned to walk, she would push that stroller all the way up to the post office or shops, it helped her balance and focus in those early walking days. We had no idea it would be as perennially popular as it has been, but both children still really love to play with it. Ralph likes to stack his cars inside the stroller and call them "my babies." Both children take turns - one with the stroller and one with the bus from above - to put their favourite toys inside and race up and down the house and into the garden.

* About a week ago after MUCH use, this stroller finally bit the dust, so I've had to dig out an old photo to use instead. This is Scout at about 16 months, pushing her stroller to the post office. Aagh too much cute!

A doll's house

I use this term loosely. What you see here is Ralph's rocket ship, complete with stairs and a ramp and a lift, and it is very popular around here. It was given to him recently, when he turned two. But I've included it because we also have a similar structure that is more of a traditional "doll house" (Peppa Pig themed - I'm serious don't judge!) which was given to Scout when she turned one, so I know this kind of play is also popular with one-year-olds. House or rocket ship, it doesn't really make a difference: this is all about accessible play-spaces to encourage imagination. My children play with both "doll structures" frequently and in the same way. I rotate the two structures, and the rocket ship happens to be out now. The kids role-play like champions with this thing and, now that they can talk, they even do voices! The other day I overheard Ralph narrating this conversation to himself, complete with voices, between astronauts and some anthropomorphised (by Ralph) cars:

"It isn't a problem" says the astronaut "It IS a problem" says the car, "I can't get up high!" "I will help you" says the astronaut, "It is magic" UP UP UP (and Ralph sent the car up the lift)

Also... we first came across the Peppa Pig house at the office of my obstetrician when I fell pregnant with Ralph (Scout was nine months old). She instantly took to it, and the obstetrician noted that it was universally popular with every child who came into her office. "Even six-year-olds," she said. Point being, kids love to role-play, and it is SO good for them!

Musical instruments

Full disclosure, these instruments come and go in popularity. They are not as consistently used as some of the others included here, but they have definitely survived the age test. This wooden set was a present for Ralph when he turned one: he loved banging things and making noise, so, hey! He played with it pretty consistently for about six months, and still returns to it semi-regularly. Add in a tambourine, and one of the children's favourite games these days is to grab an instrument and march around the house singing "We're in a marching band, we're in a marching band," one following the other. It's pretty cute!

Books

You know what? Books are always great. I'll do a proper post on some good books for one-year-olds (that seem to stay popular for longer) shortly. In the meantime, we bought the book above for the family friend I told you about at the start of this post, who is turning one. It is a little bit old for her, but she will quickly grow into it. It's a book with no words, so you can make up a story to go with the pictures. These books are great for growing with children, and fostering imagination. When they are little like this one, the reader can make up a story for them, according to their interests. As they get older, they can make up their own stories... and the stories will change as the child grows.

Two final tips:

1. If you're buying a present for a child and this is a new activity for you, treat those "age recommendations" with a fair bit of flexibility. If a toy says "suitable 2-4 years" that's most likely a safety recommendation in terms of choking hazards and the size of the equipment etc, it's not necessarily a sign that a four-year-old will enjoy the toy. Get it for the two-year old. My rule of thumb is to "buy up" when it comes to age, unless it's a safety issue. Assume the kids you're buying for are a lot brighter than the box would have you believe. They almost always are.

2. One-year-old is a funny time in a child's development to be buying most toys. In my experience, they REALLY start to get into serious, imaginative play at around the 18 month mark... but of course that's not a birthday so they don't have lots of people buying them toys. Most of the toys I've recommended here will be kind of liked at one, but will probably (hopefully!) become really popular at around 18 months.

How about you? What are/were some of the most popular toys for the one-year-olds in your life?

ps. I just discovered this mess-free finger-painting activity last week. The kids had fun even now but, seriously, this would have been a LIFE CHANGER if I'd known about it when my guys were one!

What’s up doc?

Have you heard? Our garden is heaven! One of these days I will share some before and after photos of this tiny garden, which was a miserable, grubby, slimy courtyard until August, after which it became… heaven.

I am sitting in the garden as I type this, leaning up against the cubby house with my legs stretched out before me and noticing I’m somewhat overdue for a pedicure. Scout and Ralph have declared themselves to be the “chef-police,” which profession apparently involves something along the lines of being restaurant-owners who get to be extremely bossy. Also they keep throwing toy food out of the window and onto my head.

On Saturday I finally got a new phone, which was very exciting and then necessitated the expenditure of the entire afternoon in figuring out how to set it all up. The best part was avoiding the whole contacts syncing thing by typing each person in by hand, which took aggggges but I passed the time watching Freaks & Geeks for free on youtube. It felt phenomenally good to clear my phone at last of the numbers of people I might have interviewed once or twice in about 2006, which had resided in my phone ever since thanks to the syncing thingy I couldn't figure out how to turn off, therefore remaining a constant undercurrent of anxiety in case one of my children would accidentally call them one day...

We switched contracts from Telstra to Vodafone, giving me triple the data plus the iPhone 6S for a couple of dollars less than I was previously paying. I foresee some Instagram spam action in my future. Sorry Testra, it’s been real.

Also included for that price was the world’s ugliest iPhone case, made out of rubber and semi-opaque, in a kind of pale acid green which, when fitted over my gold phone, looks the precise colour of booger. Ergo I am now in the market for a new iPhone case. Any suggestions as to where to look for some nice ones? I do love the gold of these phones and kind of like the idea of a clear case so for once I can see my pretty phone, but then there are so many fabulous designs around. I saw some on Etsy that were clear but also had real flowers or leaves pressed inside them. Your thoughts on this? Lovely, or tacky? I can’t decide!

My dad has to have an operation on his back. It's not life-and-death but it's kind of a major deal and I'm a bit worried about him. Also, he and my mum have a big holiday booked for April, to which they've been looking forward for more than a year, and he's cutting it fine with the recovery time. This has been on my mind all weekend.

I finished painting and posted 10 more snail-mail parcels last week, which are now (hopefully, if I put on enough stamps - because I literally COVERED the backs withs stamps) winging their way to folks around the world. Photos coming up in the next couple of days. If I get my act together quickly, the next round of mail parcels will be all about love (oh hello, Valentine's Day).

And in other news, it turns out I need reading glasses. Which is not overly surprising given that a) I stare at books and computers all day, b) lately things have been a bit on the blurry side and I’ve been getting sleepy when I read, and c) let’s be honest, I am getting old.

Yesterday I went in to the shops to choose some frames and it is SO STRANGE to see yourself in glasses when you’ve never worn them before. They all gave me extreme monobrows and made me look severely cross-eyed. Why is it that the rest of the world looks smart and sexy in glasses, and I look like a Picasso? The only glasses I even marginally liked were $460 for just the frames, and I wasn’t willing to spend $460 on something I only marginally liked. Also, as Mr B pointed out, “You work by yourself all day, who’s going to see you?” Which is logical but I guess I’m still vain, because I really wanted to look “marginally ok” while alone in my office, rather than “marginally not a Picasso,” which is what I settled for in the end.

The bubble machine is out of mixture and the children are now watering the garden with their Minions / Frozen drink bottles. Time to head inside and make their dinner. We are out of fish fingers. I need to hunt for another lazy-Sunday-don’t-feel-like-actual-cooking meal to make.

What’s up with you, doc?

Update: it was tinned tuna with broccoli, beans and pasta for the win!

Work and life

Right now I’m supposed to be working. It’s Saturday afternoon and the sun is shining and everybody else in my family packed up the car early this morning and went out for the day.

Scout was sobbing her heart out. “Why – hic - do you want – hic – us to gooooooo?” she wailed. It was heart wrenching. Like I ever want her to go. Like I would ever happily sacrifice precious weekend family time to sit alone in my windowless office (a converted wine cellar / cupboard) to type words for somebody else.

(Also, I just made raisin toast and when it popped up one of the pieces of toast actually sailed into the air and onto the floor... and I buttered and ate it anyway. That's how pathetic I am today.)

But bills gots to be paid. I’ve turned in two deadlines out of the three I needed to complete today, but I’m running out of steam. I’ve got to do it. I’ve just GOT to. Otherwise, what was the point of making that little girl cry? Right. Back to work for me. I just wanted to check in with you so I didn’t feel so… alone. I hope your Saturday is better than mine.

Sometimes being a freelance writer and working from home is amazing. Other times, no. No, no, no.

Image credit: Anda Ambrosini, licensed for unlimited use under Creative Commons