The sickness stuff I mean. And the emo stuff. And the general "you'll know when you're a parent" stuff.
There is a lot of stuff that people simply don't tell you about being a parent. Why? I reckon because nobody told them and why the hell should you have an advantage. That's my theory anyway.
Before I was a parent I loved staying up late and would often get very little sleep. Let me tell you, it is far less fun when someone else is in control of the amount of sleep you get.
There are diseases. Lots of them. And disgusting things. Lots of them. That kids are exposed to and get.
Hand, foot and mouth disease. It truly sounds like something reserved for livestock. Nope. Kids get it. And it means they are off school and daycare for a fair schwack of time too.
Head lice. I have not yet encountered this (touch wood… repeatedly) but seriously. Oh geez. Just the thought of it makes me retch.
Ear infections. Sounds like nothing serious. Ba bow. Wrong. Tis everything serious. Aside from the whole eardrum bursting thing as previously stated, there are other things. Master 3 has had 3 ear infections in the last 6 weeks. He is to be checked at the same time Miss 5 is checked in a few weeks. If he has ANOTHER ear infection then things get ramped up. They have these things called grommets. They insert things into the kids' ears. Does wonders apparently. Particularly for those kids who get recurrent ear infections.
Kids break stuff. It happens. Although this one was actually easier than I had anticipated. Yes, there is the initial heartbreak and pain living through your child kind of pain when they initially hurt themselves, but realistically, all it does is change the way you do things, and add a few appointments to your schedule. And a story to your kids' upbringing.
Chickenpox. Yep.
Bandaids. The value of bandaids. They are absolute gold. Particularly the ones with pretty disney pictures on them. They could have a compound fracture, but cover it in a mickey mouse bandaid and all will be forgotten. Ripped an entire nail off? No matter! Cars brand bandaids are here to make it all better.
Have many varieties. Trust me. It is worth it.
Before you are a parent you say you won't do things and you will do things.
I was never going to bribe my kids with food.
Um. Yeah. Nah. Sorry. It works. I'm doing it.
I was always going to put them straight back into their bed if they came into bed with me.
Um. Yeah. Nah. Sorry. It's 3am. I'm tired. I'm not moving. Get in here and go to sleep. I'll move you in the morning.
I was never going to let TV be their babysitter.
Um. Yeah. Nah. Sorry. I have had the grand total of 2 hours sleep because various children did various things at various points throughout the night. If I don't get at least one uninterrupted cup of coffee it will end badly. For everyone.
I was going to do so much and was not going to do so much and as life throws you things you change. Because you have to.
I never could have possibly believed how many times I would tell my kids I love them in a day.
And I do. Repeatedly. Even on bad days.
Because they are my everything.
And they may answer with "I knoooooow mum, you told us already". But I just have to. Because even the thought of them brings my soul to life. I just want them to know how very loved they are.
And here's the thing. They do.
And yes I'm having an emo day. Because I took Miss 5 to school this morning and she was fine. Literally truly fine. Until I left the room. And then she became inconsolable. Because she didn't want to miss me.
And that was fine and she was nearly calmed down after I hugged her for ages, until the other teacher came in the room not knowing the 'history' and tried to prise her from me. And it went downhill from there.
And you know sometimes things happen for a reason. I was able to spend a wonderful day, one on one, with my baby girl.
And I wouldn't change that for the world.
We didn't do anything monumental. She came to work with me for a few hours (I just had to get a few things done today, no matter what). Then we went to the bakery for morning tea. Then we went to a christmas decoration shop, we had fish and chips for lunch, and I watched her at her tennis lesson (yes, she was "well" enough to do tennis…..).
And what a fabulous day it was. And realistically all because her teacher came in at the wrong time.
And I am so glad she did.
So so glad.
Love. My. Babies.
Monday, 11 November 2013
Sunday, 10 November 2013
Pop goes the eardrum.
Last night sucked.
I was thinking of ways in which I could adequately express the night such that others who were not present could understand, and that's all I got. Granted, I got very little sleep last night, for various reasons.
I may have mentioned that my childrens' sleep habits are such that a sleep scientist would be in 7th heaven.
All the kids sleepwalk.
All the kids sleeptalk.
Miss 5 had night terrors from age 10 months until she had her tonsils and adenoids removed at age 4.
Master 3 still has night terrors, which started about 14 months ago.
They all have incredibly vivid dreams.
And life, as I believe I may have previously mentioned, is never dull.
So last night I hear Miss 5 starting to have a chat in a less than happy manner. I pop in there and she informs me, whilst asleep, that Master 3 was flying up into space, and she was not terribly happy about this. I reassured her that he was safe and all was good in the world and she went back to sleep.
I neglected to mention that when I went in to investigate Miss 5's vocal outburst I was confronted by Miss 4 sitting bolt upright in bed with her eyes open. Before I settled Miss 5 I gently lowered Miss 4 back on to her pillow and popped her doona back on.
As I said. Never dull.
Anyway, cutting to the chase, some time in the late evening the cries of "ow" commenced. Not just "ow". But "ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow". While she was asleep. But writhing as though she was being electrocuted. Still asleep.
So I stayed with her. And every time she started writhing I gently soothed her and every time she said "ow" I asked her where it hurt.
Eventually she woke herself up and promptly burst into tears. I asked her again where it hurt and she said her ear. So I got some Panadol and gave it to her and then sat with her some more.
Panadol didn't help. So some time later out came the Nurofen.
Nurofen didn't work. So then I had to wait another few hours before I could up the ante and hit her with the Pain Stop. Why not sooner? Because you can't use it with other paracetamol products.
Note to self: When child wakes up visibly distressed, give Nurofen first. That way if pain does not settle you can then go to the Pain Stop without having to wait it out.
Shan't forget that one.
Long story short I put her in bed with me so I could be right there and doze occasionally too.
Her sleep apnoea returned for the first time since her tonsils were removed.
And she was hot. Oh so hot. And the drugs weren't doing squat.
Early in the morning she seemed to calm, and fell asleep for some time. During this time I got the others all ready, and she then woke up, had two bites of food and realised she didn't want food, and then we headed to the doctor.
As we got there I looked at the million people and sighed. But I was prepared this time. I had packed four rounds of sandwiches, water bottles for everyone, 2 muesli bars each and a box of shapes. Emergency food.
As we were waiting a woman who was obviously in some sort of distress came in and ignored the line and waltzed up to the front counter. As I was next, the receptionist asked what I needed, and I deferred to Mrs Upset. I figured it would be easier for all concerned if she was looked after because, well, she seemed pretty upset.
So then we got seen to, I told her I couldn't keep Miss 5's temperature down, she was complaining of intense ear pain and we needed to see someone.
Straight to the nurse. 38.4 after Panadol and still not able to give Nurofen yet.
She rings doctor and we get straight in there. As he looks at her ears he tells me the eardrum has already ruptured.
Want to hear the ironic thing? After much putting off for various different reasons, we finally started swimming lessons. Yesterday. And now she can't swim for 3 weeks. You couldn't have scripted that if you tried.
Anyway, all's good, she has drugs, we had a quiet day at home, did some pasting, chilled in front of the idiot box.
My brain is incapable of comprehensive thought right now. I was amazed I remembered to brush the kids' teeth tonight, that's how foggy I feel. And yet I'm still up. Because I went to do an update on my phone and it wouldn't let me. Because there isn't enough space left on my phone. Which I have had for about 6 months. Full. Of photos. And useless apps.
So I began a delete-a-thon.
You know I take photos of such rubbish. Like stuff that if I saw someone else take a photo of I would think they were off their head. That kind of stuff.
I took a photo of a chicken. Because it was across the road. And I just thought that was hilarious. Because I wondered why it had crossed the road. And I reckon I laughed for a good 10 minutes. But I didn't just take one photo. I took 10. Of the chicken. I have no idea why.
Oh actually yes I do. I kinda shake. So it is hard to get a good photo. So for every 10 I take there is usually one good one. THAT is why there were 10 chicken shots.
So there were also copious amounts of food shots. There were a few shots of carpet where I had inadvertently hit the button. There were a few pictures of dental treatment that the kids had obviously saved from a little game they have on the iPhone.
There was a really disturbing picture that one of the kids had drawn that I don't even want to think about describing, suffice to say I don't think it was meant to be an anatomically correct blue thing but it just turned out that way.
A lot of food pictures. A lot of pork pictures actually. Specifically roast pork belly. Crispy skinned. *drool*. Amazing. I can smell it and taste it and hear the crackling being broken as I look at the pictures. Mmmmm.
Now I want pork.
And there are other random photos too. Some actually pretty cool. The reading room at the state library. Amazing.
An arty farty shot of Flinders Street station.
And several photos of the enormous amount of caffeine I ingest some mornings, with a long black backed up by a Coke and a Red Bull.
Anyway, I'm working on getting through them. So in the last however long I have deleted 1000 photos. Go me.
But what is there left, seriously. It truly could be anything. It's like that mystery cupboard at home. Where you just chuck random stuff. And then years later you go through and it's like "Oh wow, there is my 1988 bicentennial commemorative $5 coin! And you think I wonder how much that's worth now being that it is way old and a collector's item and so you go on ebay and discover it is worth $5.
Gold.
Love it.
You do make the odd random discovery though, in that mystery cupboard. I found some drawings Miss 5 had done as a wee one. Brought a bit of a tear to the eye to look at them actually. And a few little random photos in there too. I also came across stuff that I have no recollection of and wonder just how it got there.
Anyway, I digress, once again.
I'm hoping tonight is far less 'lively' than last night and I can perhaps gain a little shut eye in preparation for what is now my three day a week working week (yes, got put up a day last week).
I even was organised enough to make my lunch for tomorrow. Stir fry veg in oyster sauce. Mmmm. Sensational.
Not organised enough to remember to iron Miss 5's uniform or my work clothes though…. guess I'll be up for a bit longer then…...
I was thinking of ways in which I could adequately express the night such that others who were not present could understand, and that's all I got. Granted, I got very little sleep last night, for various reasons.
I may have mentioned that my childrens' sleep habits are such that a sleep scientist would be in 7th heaven.
All the kids sleepwalk.
All the kids sleeptalk.
Miss 5 had night terrors from age 10 months until she had her tonsils and adenoids removed at age 4.
Master 3 still has night terrors, which started about 14 months ago.
They all have incredibly vivid dreams.
And life, as I believe I may have previously mentioned, is never dull.
So last night I hear Miss 5 starting to have a chat in a less than happy manner. I pop in there and she informs me, whilst asleep, that Master 3 was flying up into space, and she was not terribly happy about this. I reassured her that he was safe and all was good in the world and she went back to sleep.
I neglected to mention that when I went in to investigate Miss 5's vocal outburst I was confronted by Miss 4 sitting bolt upright in bed with her eyes open. Before I settled Miss 5 I gently lowered Miss 4 back on to her pillow and popped her doona back on.
As I said. Never dull.
Anyway, cutting to the chase, some time in the late evening the cries of "ow" commenced. Not just "ow". But "ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow". While she was asleep. But writhing as though she was being electrocuted. Still asleep.
So I stayed with her. And every time she started writhing I gently soothed her and every time she said "ow" I asked her where it hurt.
Eventually she woke herself up and promptly burst into tears. I asked her again where it hurt and she said her ear. So I got some Panadol and gave it to her and then sat with her some more.
Panadol didn't help. So some time later out came the Nurofen.
Nurofen didn't work. So then I had to wait another few hours before I could up the ante and hit her with the Pain Stop. Why not sooner? Because you can't use it with other paracetamol products.
Note to self: When child wakes up visibly distressed, give Nurofen first. That way if pain does not settle you can then go to the Pain Stop without having to wait it out.
Shan't forget that one.
Long story short I put her in bed with me so I could be right there and doze occasionally too.
Her sleep apnoea returned for the first time since her tonsils were removed.
And she was hot. Oh so hot. And the drugs weren't doing squat.
Early in the morning she seemed to calm, and fell asleep for some time. During this time I got the others all ready, and she then woke up, had two bites of food and realised she didn't want food, and then we headed to the doctor.
As we got there I looked at the million people and sighed. But I was prepared this time. I had packed four rounds of sandwiches, water bottles for everyone, 2 muesli bars each and a box of shapes. Emergency food.
As we were waiting a woman who was obviously in some sort of distress came in and ignored the line and waltzed up to the front counter. As I was next, the receptionist asked what I needed, and I deferred to Mrs Upset. I figured it would be easier for all concerned if she was looked after because, well, she seemed pretty upset.
So then we got seen to, I told her I couldn't keep Miss 5's temperature down, she was complaining of intense ear pain and we needed to see someone.
Straight to the nurse. 38.4 after Panadol and still not able to give Nurofen yet.
She rings doctor and we get straight in there. As he looks at her ears he tells me the eardrum has already ruptured.
Want to hear the ironic thing? After much putting off for various different reasons, we finally started swimming lessons. Yesterday. And now she can't swim for 3 weeks. You couldn't have scripted that if you tried.
Anyway, all's good, she has drugs, we had a quiet day at home, did some pasting, chilled in front of the idiot box.
My brain is incapable of comprehensive thought right now. I was amazed I remembered to brush the kids' teeth tonight, that's how foggy I feel. And yet I'm still up. Because I went to do an update on my phone and it wouldn't let me. Because there isn't enough space left on my phone. Which I have had for about 6 months. Full. Of photos. And useless apps.
So I began a delete-a-thon.
You know I take photos of such rubbish. Like stuff that if I saw someone else take a photo of I would think they were off their head. That kind of stuff.
I took a photo of a chicken. Because it was across the road. And I just thought that was hilarious. Because I wondered why it had crossed the road. And I reckon I laughed for a good 10 minutes. But I didn't just take one photo. I took 10. Of the chicken. I have no idea why.
Oh actually yes I do. I kinda shake. So it is hard to get a good photo. So for every 10 I take there is usually one good one. THAT is why there were 10 chicken shots.
So there were also copious amounts of food shots. There were a few shots of carpet where I had inadvertently hit the button. There were a few pictures of dental treatment that the kids had obviously saved from a little game they have on the iPhone.
There was a really disturbing picture that one of the kids had drawn that I don't even want to think about describing, suffice to say I don't think it was meant to be an anatomically correct blue thing but it just turned out that way.
A lot of food pictures. A lot of pork pictures actually. Specifically roast pork belly. Crispy skinned. *drool*. Amazing. I can smell it and taste it and hear the crackling being broken as I look at the pictures. Mmmmm.
Now I want pork.
And there are other random photos too. Some actually pretty cool. The reading room at the state library. Amazing.
An arty farty shot of Flinders Street station.
And several photos of the enormous amount of caffeine I ingest some mornings, with a long black backed up by a Coke and a Red Bull.
Anyway, I'm working on getting through them. So in the last however long I have deleted 1000 photos. Go me.
But what is there left, seriously. It truly could be anything. It's like that mystery cupboard at home. Where you just chuck random stuff. And then years later you go through and it's like "Oh wow, there is my 1988 bicentennial commemorative $5 coin! And you think I wonder how much that's worth now being that it is way old and a collector's item and so you go on ebay and discover it is worth $5.
Gold.
Love it.
You do make the odd random discovery though, in that mystery cupboard. I found some drawings Miss 5 had done as a wee one. Brought a bit of a tear to the eye to look at them actually. And a few little random photos in there too. I also came across stuff that I have no recollection of and wonder just how it got there.
Anyway, I digress, once again.
I'm hoping tonight is far less 'lively' than last night and I can perhaps gain a little shut eye in preparation for what is now my three day a week working week (yes, got put up a day last week).
I even was organised enough to make my lunch for tomorrow. Stir fry veg in oyster sauce. Mmmm. Sensational.
Not organised enough to remember to iron Miss 5's uniform or my work clothes though…. guess I'll be up for a bit longer then…...
Friday, 8 November 2013
Puddles.
They happen when it rains. Funny that.
There is a magnetism. Puddles. Children. Puddles. Children.
This force is apparently stronger in boys than in girls, though present in both without a doubt.
Today it rained. Funnily enough that resulted in puddles.
Today was an assembly day, which meant we walked from the car to school, then once assembly was finished, we all waited together outside Miss 5's classroom.
There were puddles.
Some of these puddles could have actually been considered lakes. Well, more than just a puddle anyway. Enough to completely soak a shoe or two and half a pant leg at the very least.
And yes, it happened. To us and many others.
I blame Peppa Pig.
She loves to jump in muddy puddles.
But it's hard. Because Peppa Pig is fabulous. It is 5 minutes and 10 seconds (or thereabouts) that I am freely able to do anything. At all. Because as soon as the music comes on I hear "PEPPA PIG!!!" screamed from all ends of the house and children come running.
The tv is on much of the time when we are home. Not watched all of that time, but on quite a bit. Because of the Peppa Pig phenomenon. They just. Come. Running.
And then it is my time. I have 5 clear minutes to do whatever the hell I want.
Sometimes I go to the fridge and get my favourite foods out, if they are there. And I eat them and I don't share.
Sometimes I drink a coffee while it is hot.
Sometimes I Facebook stalk someone who I have randomly thought of.
Sometimes I go on eBay to see if any Peppa Pig cartoon DVDs are cheap.
Sometimes I catch up on the news.
Sometimes I send an email.
Sometimes I cull the photos on my phone (it is obscene the number of photos on my phone).
Sometimes I watch Peppa Pig too. Sue me.
Today the two minis and I had a mission. Knickers, stickers and shoes.
Knickers for Miss 4. She may be 4 but a 4-6 she is not. So sorted that one out, all good.
Stickers. For the rewards chart. Any time they do something that is something special, be it sharing something special with one of the others, or actively doing something they are not asked to do, or similar, they get a sticker. Once they get 10, they get a lucky dip. I haven't made those up yet but it'll be things they love - stuff to put on their bags, or stickers, or little things like that.
And shoes. Master 3 has no summer shoes. I realised this the other day when it was hot and I tried to put his Thomas sandal things on him and ba bow. No joy. Too small. So he chose dinosaur light up green sandal things. And there you go. Problem solved.
I had also promised the kids a DVD as we haven't bought a new DVD for ages. And Despicable Me 2 was on sale. So what could we do but get it?!
We did.
And then when we got home, it was a fruit salad dinner, followed by a salad dinner (logic, go figure) and then I made some home popped popcorn, all the kids were in pjs and we set up and watched the movie.
By watched I mean I watched, Miss 4 fell asleep, Miss 5 constantly asked if she could have any more popcorn and Master 3 repeated that he was tired, wherein I asked repeatedly if he wanted to go to bed, in response to which he replied no, over and over, sat on my lap yawning and nestling in and then waking up and then repeating, and no it wasn't late it was before 7pm.
So after the film finished, which I loved by the way, I took asleep Miss 4 to the loo (thank goodness I did too just quietly), then Miss 5 and Master 3 did the teeth, toilet bed thing and there you have it.
Easy. Peasy.
Ha. Yep. Well, yes. Tonight was actually.
Tomorrow we are going swimming. So it seems. Swimming trial.
I don't swim.
I never wanted to take the kids to swimming lessons. That was someone else's job, a job on which they reneged.
So now it is left to me. And it has taken me this long to build up the courage to do it.
But I'm doing it.
So wish me luck.
Deep. Breath.
I can do it.
There is a magnetism. Puddles. Children. Puddles. Children.
This force is apparently stronger in boys than in girls, though present in both without a doubt.
Today it rained. Funnily enough that resulted in puddles.
Today was an assembly day, which meant we walked from the car to school, then once assembly was finished, we all waited together outside Miss 5's classroom.
There were puddles.
Some of these puddles could have actually been considered lakes. Well, more than just a puddle anyway. Enough to completely soak a shoe or two and half a pant leg at the very least.
And yes, it happened. To us and many others.
I blame Peppa Pig.
She loves to jump in muddy puddles.
But it's hard. Because Peppa Pig is fabulous. It is 5 minutes and 10 seconds (or thereabouts) that I am freely able to do anything. At all. Because as soon as the music comes on I hear "PEPPA PIG!!!" screamed from all ends of the house and children come running.
The tv is on much of the time when we are home. Not watched all of that time, but on quite a bit. Because of the Peppa Pig phenomenon. They just. Come. Running.
And then it is my time. I have 5 clear minutes to do whatever the hell I want.
Sometimes I go to the fridge and get my favourite foods out, if they are there. And I eat them and I don't share.
Sometimes I drink a coffee while it is hot.
Sometimes I Facebook stalk someone who I have randomly thought of.
Sometimes I go on eBay to see if any Peppa Pig cartoon DVDs are cheap.
Sometimes I catch up on the news.
Sometimes I send an email.
Sometimes I cull the photos on my phone (it is obscene the number of photos on my phone).
Sometimes I watch Peppa Pig too. Sue me.
Today the two minis and I had a mission. Knickers, stickers and shoes.
Knickers for Miss 4. She may be 4 but a 4-6 she is not. So sorted that one out, all good.
Stickers. For the rewards chart. Any time they do something that is something special, be it sharing something special with one of the others, or actively doing something they are not asked to do, or similar, they get a sticker. Once they get 10, they get a lucky dip. I haven't made those up yet but it'll be things they love - stuff to put on their bags, or stickers, or little things like that.
And shoes. Master 3 has no summer shoes. I realised this the other day when it was hot and I tried to put his Thomas sandal things on him and ba bow. No joy. Too small. So he chose dinosaur light up green sandal things. And there you go. Problem solved.
I had also promised the kids a DVD as we haven't bought a new DVD for ages. And Despicable Me 2 was on sale. So what could we do but get it?!
We did.
And then when we got home, it was a fruit salad dinner, followed by a salad dinner (logic, go figure) and then I made some home popped popcorn, all the kids were in pjs and we set up and watched the movie.
By watched I mean I watched, Miss 4 fell asleep, Miss 5 constantly asked if she could have any more popcorn and Master 3 repeated that he was tired, wherein I asked repeatedly if he wanted to go to bed, in response to which he replied no, over and over, sat on my lap yawning and nestling in and then waking up and then repeating, and no it wasn't late it was before 7pm.
So after the film finished, which I loved by the way, I took asleep Miss 4 to the loo (thank goodness I did too just quietly), then Miss 5 and Master 3 did the teeth, toilet bed thing and there you have it.
Easy. Peasy.
Ha. Yep. Well, yes. Tonight was actually.
Tomorrow we are going swimming. So it seems. Swimming trial.
I don't swim.
I never wanted to take the kids to swimming lessons. That was someone else's job, a job on which they reneged.
So now it is left to me. And it has taken me this long to build up the courage to do it.
But I'm doing it.
So wish me luck.
Deep. Breath.
I can do it.
Wednesday, 6 November 2013
It never lasts.
Running early I mean. And I don't mean over the space of days, I mean in a day.
Today we were ready to head out the door at 8.11am. Everyone was dressed, hair was done, lunch was made for Miss 5, reader folder in bag, I had all my stuff organised.
And then I did it. I asked.
"Does anyone need to go to the toilet?"
Why. Did. I. Ask.
So Miss 5 heads in to the toilet. And decides that she might stay there for a bit. As she does.
And so at 8.21am we were all ready to head out the door.
Miss 4 "But I need to go too!!!"
O. K. Then.
So Miss 5 decides to keep Miss 4 company, and I hear mumble mumble mumble before Miss 4 all but yells "What do you think it is? A ham sandwich?"
It was at that point I nearly choked and fell to the floor with laughter. And Miss 4 heard this and promptly chastised me for laughing at her.
At times like this I actually appreciate the fact that Master 3 is still in a nappy. He'll toilet train soon, but to be honest if he isn't ready he isn't going to get it so quickly so I would rather wait till he is ready and then go.
And so finally at 8.28am we all headed out the door.
The obligatory "I wanted to get into the car first" ensued, followed by the "But I wanted you to do my seatbelt up first."
Guys. It doesn't make any difference. At all. To anything. Seriously.
So we get to the little ones' school, and Master 3 still doesn't like his new room, even though they have massively cool toys in there. I mean I would play in there. All day. And love it. I think he just isn't trying to be honest. That's probably a little harsh. He did get moved for a short while and then have to move again and I think he just felt a little geographically challenged. He never takes long to settle after I leave and always greets me with open arms when I pick him up. I'm not concerned he isn't having a great day, but I do so hate dropping him off crying, blowing countless kisses to him and repeating "I love you baby" over and over until I am out of sight.
Sigh. Breaks my heart.
And then drop Miss 4 off and have 7 or 8 goes at leaving, because always another kiss and another hug…..
So we get to Miss 5's school.
Walking across the playground I turn to her and say "Did you put your water bottle back into your bag?"
Silence.
Oh. Dear.
So I say that just for today I'm sure it would be okay if she just used the water taps outside the prep room. Miss 5 wasn't rapt in that suggestion but accepted it.
And just as we are about to walk into her classroom she says it. "My hat!"
Crap.
Now I had to go home. No hat no play. And with a 28 degree forecast I'm tipping they would be fairly strict on that.
So I figured I would grab her water bottle while I was there, and while I was at it I decided to change my shirt because it just didn't feel right.
I get back to school and can't get a parking spot. Of course I can't. It is peak drop off time.
Finally get a park around the corner, get to Miss 5's room and she is nowhere to be found.
She is in the toilet. Again. Seriously. This child has a bladder the size of a pea. And yes I have had her checked at the doctor, and no there is nothing wrong, she just doesn't like feeling even in the slightest that she needs to pee.
And so I eventually made it to work.
And work was flat out. I mean flat out. I had to do everything because we were a person down (the person who answers all the calls and drop ins) and today we had a LOT of calls. A lot. And I was trying to arrange a settlement at the same time. For tomorrow.
Suffice to say the day flew. But I made it through it. I even managed to duck to the supermarket at lunchtime to get bread for tomorrow's sandwiches.
Once we all got home I realised I couldn't be bothered cooking and decided that I would opt for the sandwich dinner that is a working mother's dream because it requires so little effort and is done and dusted within minutes.
And as you know my kids eat a lot. And then the loaf of bread was gone. Oops. Crap. Miss 5's lunch. Just enough bread to make one little sandwich.
Our dinner time is never dull. Even if I wish it would be sometimes. We often get the "Look at my eyes! Look at them!" Eyes dart back and forth and eyebrows are raised, intense looks of concentration accompanying the movements. And the challenge is apparently on as Master 3 yells "Mine can go faster!! Look!!!" wherein all that happens is his head moves around ridiculously.
I made Master 3's night tonight because he got to wear his summer pjs. He loves them. Cars. Anything Cars he loves. And would gladly wear those pjs even if it was minus 5 degrees. So he is beside himself tonight. So much so that he didn't actually want to go to sleep. Fabulous. Funnily enough nor did the girls. Tis a fairly warm night though.
There were many things I had to say, none of which I can remember. Perhaps I should write them down. I write down all my appointments in my phone calendar. Would be lost without that. And have taken to writing things that I categorically need to remember in draft emails. Or if I remember I have it, the notes part on my phone. But I often don't remember. So email draft it is.
And on that note I have just realised that there are several (read: numerous) emails to which I must reply.
I had fully intended to. And then lots of shopping emails came through and kept pushing these emails further and further down, and before you know it they were gone. Out of sight out of mind. Until I deleted the shopping and other randomly nothing emails. And voila. Instant guilt trip. Right there.
So I'm off to deguilt by way of electronic communication.
A la prochaine.
Today we were ready to head out the door at 8.11am. Everyone was dressed, hair was done, lunch was made for Miss 5, reader folder in bag, I had all my stuff organised.
And then I did it. I asked.
"Does anyone need to go to the toilet?"
Why. Did. I. Ask.
So Miss 5 heads in to the toilet. And decides that she might stay there for a bit. As she does.
And so at 8.21am we were all ready to head out the door.
Miss 4 "But I need to go too!!!"
O. K. Then.
So Miss 5 decides to keep Miss 4 company, and I hear mumble mumble mumble before Miss 4 all but yells "What do you think it is? A ham sandwich?"
It was at that point I nearly choked and fell to the floor with laughter. And Miss 4 heard this and promptly chastised me for laughing at her.
At times like this I actually appreciate the fact that Master 3 is still in a nappy. He'll toilet train soon, but to be honest if he isn't ready he isn't going to get it so quickly so I would rather wait till he is ready and then go.
And so finally at 8.28am we all headed out the door.
The obligatory "I wanted to get into the car first" ensued, followed by the "But I wanted you to do my seatbelt up first."
Guys. It doesn't make any difference. At all. To anything. Seriously.
So we get to the little ones' school, and Master 3 still doesn't like his new room, even though they have massively cool toys in there. I mean I would play in there. All day. And love it. I think he just isn't trying to be honest. That's probably a little harsh. He did get moved for a short while and then have to move again and I think he just felt a little geographically challenged. He never takes long to settle after I leave and always greets me with open arms when I pick him up. I'm not concerned he isn't having a great day, but I do so hate dropping him off crying, blowing countless kisses to him and repeating "I love you baby" over and over until I am out of sight.
Sigh. Breaks my heart.
And then drop Miss 4 off and have 7 or 8 goes at leaving, because always another kiss and another hug…..
So we get to Miss 5's school.
Walking across the playground I turn to her and say "Did you put your water bottle back into your bag?"
Silence.
Oh. Dear.
So I say that just for today I'm sure it would be okay if she just used the water taps outside the prep room. Miss 5 wasn't rapt in that suggestion but accepted it.
And just as we are about to walk into her classroom she says it. "My hat!"
Crap.
Now I had to go home. No hat no play. And with a 28 degree forecast I'm tipping they would be fairly strict on that.
So I figured I would grab her water bottle while I was there, and while I was at it I decided to change my shirt because it just didn't feel right.
I get back to school and can't get a parking spot. Of course I can't. It is peak drop off time.
Finally get a park around the corner, get to Miss 5's room and she is nowhere to be found.
She is in the toilet. Again. Seriously. This child has a bladder the size of a pea. And yes I have had her checked at the doctor, and no there is nothing wrong, she just doesn't like feeling even in the slightest that she needs to pee.
And so I eventually made it to work.
And work was flat out. I mean flat out. I had to do everything because we were a person down (the person who answers all the calls and drop ins) and today we had a LOT of calls. A lot. And I was trying to arrange a settlement at the same time. For tomorrow.
Suffice to say the day flew. But I made it through it. I even managed to duck to the supermarket at lunchtime to get bread for tomorrow's sandwiches.
Once we all got home I realised I couldn't be bothered cooking and decided that I would opt for the sandwich dinner that is a working mother's dream because it requires so little effort and is done and dusted within minutes.
And as you know my kids eat a lot. And then the loaf of bread was gone. Oops. Crap. Miss 5's lunch. Just enough bread to make one little sandwich.
Our dinner time is never dull. Even if I wish it would be sometimes. We often get the "Look at my eyes! Look at them!" Eyes dart back and forth and eyebrows are raised, intense looks of concentration accompanying the movements. And the challenge is apparently on as Master 3 yells "Mine can go faster!! Look!!!" wherein all that happens is his head moves around ridiculously.
I made Master 3's night tonight because he got to wear his summer pjs. He loves them. Cars. Anything Cars he loves. And would gladly wear those pjs even if it was minus 5 degrees. So he is beside himself tonight. So much so that he didn't actually want to go to sleep. Fabulous. Funnily enough nor did the girls. Tis a fairly warm night though.
There were many things I had to say, none of which I can remember. Perhaps I should write them down. I write down all my appointments in my phone calendar. Would be lost without that. And have taken to writing things that I categorically need to remember in draft emails. Or if I remember I have it, the notes part on my phone. But I often don't remember. So email draft it is.
And on that note I have just realised that there are several (read: numerous) emails to which I must reply.
I had fully intended to. And then lots of shopping emails came through and kept pushing these emails further and further down, and before you know it they were gone. Out of sight out of mind. Until I deleted the shopping and other randomly nothing emails. And voila. Instant guilt trip. Right there.
So I'm off to deguilt by way of electronic communication.
A la prochaine.
Tuesday, 5 November 2013
There is no such thing as time.
There is no other explanation.
I will tell you why, by way of demonstrating the way in which time can not possibly exist in the way we have been led to believe.
When I have a kid-free day there is no way it goes for 8 hours. None. It literally just starts, I blink and they'll be back in half an hour.
When it is half an hour before normal bedtime, what ensues from this point can only be seen to smash the concept of time. Because it goes for an eternity. A veritable eternity.
When your child is on a piece of play equipment, and you see them lose grip with one arm, time slows such that every pressure wave in the air is almost visible, as you watch, helpless, as you see your child fall, in slow motion.
When your child picks up a Thomas the tank engine toy times accelerates such that you don't even see said Thomas propelled through the air, target being sister's head.
When a child comes into your bed at 4 in the morning, the time it takes for the alarm to go off is months. Surely.
The time it takes children to fall asleep at night. It seems like hours. Often it isn't.
Night terrors. These bastardly things pull time like an elastic band, to the point right before it is about to break. That time is as tense as said elastic band, and feels like forever.
A night out. A rare night out. Without kidlets. Fabulous and wonderful. Gone in a flash.
I had three children home with chickenpox. For a week. Technically. I swear every day was at least 70 or 80 hours.
I think I had a point. I truly have no idea what that point was.
Anyway, it was Melbourne Cup Day today so all the kids were home. At 10am I told them we'd go to the park.
10am.
We left at 1.30pm.
It took us 3 and a half hours to get out the door.
3 and a half hours. And I kid you not it felt like 17.
And we were at the park. And that was nice. Nice. Great word. Sort of. But so non-expressive. So bland. You may as well say "lovely".
The park was great because it had 4 swings. Do you know how many parks only have 2? Basically nearly every park.
I have 3 children.
2 swings.
3 children.
I know. I don't have to spell it out. But seriously. Don't councils realise that 2 swings just doesn't cut it??
YES. This council apparently does. 2 'do up' swings, 2 older kiddie swings. Fab.
And heaps of climbing stuff.
And best part? 2/3 of the park was in shade at 1.30pm. That is gold. Miss 4 burns if she even steps foot into a sunny room. The other two not near as bad, but Miss 4 is terribly sensitive to the sun.
So pop that one on the 'we'll go there again' list.
We watched the race. I put on my yearly bet. And I bet on 2nd and 4th. And I did it in some way that I really didn't get much back. I don't know how. I'm not really meant to be a punter I don't think. That's fine by me. The kids watched the race, and Master 3 was rapt his horse came in second (being that he is 3 he goes for number 3….and the others the same… 4 and 5 respectively).
And I am actually looking forward to work tomorrow. Not for any reason other than this week is my first week working 3 days a week…. and it was a 2 day week… which I find absolutely hilarious.
Wonder if I'll be more tired having worked that extra day……hehe.
Having the kids all home is no picnic though….. but I got lots of cuddles so it made up for tantrums.
Oh and I finally killed my mower. Completely. I got it cleaned and managed to get it started, albeit with a bit of smoke.
I mowed a third of my lawn, filling the air with a very very thick cloud of white smoke, and regularly I would say out loud "please don't stop". Till the bastard ignored me and stopped. And then I couldn't even pull the cord anymore. And there is oil everywhere.
Oops.
I'm so not made for manual labour.
I will tell you why, by way of demonstrating the way in which time can not possibly exist in the way we have been led to believe.
When I have a kid-free day there is no way it goes for 8 hours. None. It literally just starts, I blink and they'll be back in half an hour.
When it is half an hour before normal bedtime, what ensues from this point can only be seen to smash the concept of time. Because it goes for an eternity. A veritable eternity.
When your child is on a piece of play equipment, and you see them lose grip with one arm, time slows such that every pressure wave in the air is almost visible, as you watch, helpless, as you see your child fall, in slow motion.
When your child picks up a Thomas the tank engine toy times accelerates such that you don't even see said Thomas propelled through the air, target being sister's head.
When a child comes into your bed at 4 in the morning, the time it takes for the alarm to go off is months. Surely.
The time it takes children to fall asleep at night. It seems like hours. Often it isn't.
Night terrors. These bastardly things pull time like an elastic band, to the point right before it is about to break. That time is as tense as said elastic band, and feels like forever.
A night out. A rare night out. Without kidlets. Fabulous and wonderful. Gone in a flash.
I had three children home with chickenpox. For a week. Technically. I swear every day was at least 70 or 80 hours.
I think I had a point. I truly have no idea what that point was.
Anyway, it was Melbourne Cup Day today so all the kids were home. At 10am I told them we'd go to the park.
10am.
We left at 1.30pm.
It took us 3 and a half hours to get out the door.
3 and a half hours. And I kid you not it felt like 17.
And we were at the park. And that was nice. Nice. Great word. Sort of. But so non-expressive. So bland. You may as well say "lovely".
The park was great because it had 4 swings. Do you know how many parks only have 2? Basically nearly every park.
I have 3 children.
2 swings.
3 children.
I know. I don't have to spell it out. But seriously. Don't councils realise that 2 swings just doesn't cut it??
YES. This council apparently does. 2 'do up' swings, 2 older kiddie swings. Fab.
And heaps of climbing stuff.
And best part? 2/3 of the park was in shade at 1.30pm. That is gold. Miss 4 burns if she even steps foot into a sunny room. The other two not near as bad, but Miss 4 is terribly sensitive to the sun.
So pop that one on the 'we'll go there again' list.
We watched the race. I put on my yearly bet. And I bet on 2nd and 4th. And I did it in some way that I really didn't get much back. I don't know how. I'm not really meant to be a punter I don't think. That's fine by me. The kids watched the race, and Master 3 was rapt his horse came in second (being that he is 3 he goes for number 3….and the others the same… 4 and 5 respectively).
And I am actually looking forward to work tomorrow. Not for any reason other than this week is my first week working 3 days a week…. and it was a 2 day week… which I find absolutely hilarious.
Wonder if I'll be more tired having worked that extra day……hehe.
Having the kids all home is no picnic though….. but I got lots of cuddles so it made up for tantrums.
Oh and I finally killed my mower. Completely. I got it cleaned and managed to get it started, albeit with a bit of smoke.
I mowed a third of my lawn, filling the air with a very very thick cloud of white smoke, and regularly I would say out loud "please don't stop". Till the bastard ignored me and stopped. And then I couldn't even pull the cord anymore. And there is oil everywhere.
Oops.
I'm so not made for manual labour.
Monday, 4 November 2013
A dragon ate my shoe.
When this is what comes out of the mouth of your 3 year old as he stands beside your bed with tears in his eyes at 4.30 in the morning, you pull back the covers and let him in.
He went back to sleep straight away.
I thought about the dragon for a bit and then fell asleep again too.
And in the morning once everyone was up I asked him about it.
"Did a dragon eat your shoe?"
"Yes. It did."
"What colour was it?"
"Lello."
*Look of intense sadness in the eyes*
"And then the dragon dropped my shoe and picked it up again so it could eat it again."
That was where I pretended I dropped something so he didn't see my smile and laughing…. Seriously, just so adorable. Right down to the lello. Which I didn't correct because, well, it was just super cute and I correct him every other time and seriously just get off my case already!!!
Breathe.
Today was a great day at work. A really great day.
I love those days. They make the day fly. They make the feeling happy and joyous.
I feel days in a colour spectrum. Grey days are as they sound. Black days you just don't want to ever have. But then there are the other colours. Red days could but don't necessarily signify anger or danger but vibrancy and energy. Green days could but don't necessarily portray calm and peacefulness but perhaps nature and connection with the environment. Yellow could but doesn't necessarily indicate warmth, but happiness and lightness of soul.
You get the picture.
Today I would classify as a distinctly holographic day.
And yes, that counts. A myriad of colours, changing with the most minute of movements. Going from a joyous happy yellow to a hopeful vivid blue to a contented mint green to a happy fuchsia.
Today was a good day.
And tonight at the dinner table made me smile. Again. As it often does.
Master 3 once again. He was on fire today. Not literally obviously.
So at the dinner table. "What's in my bottom?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"What's in my bottom? In my nappy…. come on……"
Miss 5 guesses "Is it a poo?"
Master 3 laughs and says "Nooooooo!!!"
Miss 4 guesses "Is it a wee?"
Master 3 nods and laughs hysterically and says "YES!!!" with food spitting out of his mouth.
What a great game. No. Really.
Tomorrow is Cup Day holiday. We have no plans. We will do something. I just don't know what.
I'm thinking there'll be some park action. There may even be a little drive. I think we may try to catch up with some friends though. Not sure which friends. Some friends. I adore spending time with the kids, I really do, sometimes I hate it though I must be honest, like when they throw stuff at each other and whinge and carry on and "she bit me" and "he hit me" and "I feel sick" with no good reason kind of thing.
I don't want to go a long way. I want to stay fairly close to home. And not go anywhere near the racetrack because there'll be cars everywhere. And no. I don't mean I would contemplate taking the kids there. I mean we live not so far from the race track so I intend to stay away from that geographical area. Sheesh. Can't say anything.
So yes. I have no plans. We have no plans.
Yet.
They'll come. I know they will.
Oh, but I am wrong, sorry, I just realised.
We are playing Mike the Knight treasure hunt game in the morning. It is already set up and ready to go.
Oh, and we are painting. I finally caved.
Oh, and we are baking too.
Oh, and I have to mow the lawn too.
Actually the day is looking pretty busy….. might have to reschedule that catch up…. oh, no, it's ok, I never scheduled it in the first place…. I just thought about it.
Bonus.
And that my friends is why talking to oneself is not frowned upon but advisable.
Problems are solved before they even arise.
And you're welcome.
Hehe.
He went back to sleep straight away.
I thought about the dragon for a bit and then fell asleep again too.
And in the morning once everyone was up I asked him about it.
"Did a dragon eat your shoe?"
"Yes. It did."
"What colour was it?"
"Lello."
*Look of intense sadness in the eyes*
"And then the dragon dropped my shoe and picked it up again so it could eat it again."
That was where I pretended I dropped something so he didn't see my smile and laughing…. Seriously, just so adorable. Right down to the lello. Which I didn't correct because, well, it was just super cute and I correct him every other time and seriously just get off my case already!!!
Breathe.
Today was a great day at work. A really great day.
I love those days. They make the day fly. They make the feeling happy and joyous.
I feel days in a colour spectrum. Grey days are as they sound. Black days you just don't want to ever have. But then there are the other colours. Red days could but don't necessarily signify anger or danger but vibrancy and energy. Green days could but don't necessarily portray calm and peacefulness but perhaps nature and connection with the environment. Yellow could but doesn't necessarily indicate warmth, but happiness and lightness of soul.
You get the picture.
Today I would classify as a distinctly holographic day.
And yes, that counts. A myriad of colours, changing with the most minute of movements. Going from a joyous happy yellow to a hopeful vivid blue to a contented mint green to a happy fuchsia.
Today was a good day.
And tonight at the dinner table made me smile. Again. As it often does.
Master 3 once again. He was on fire today. Not literally obviously.
So at the dinner table. "What's in my bottom?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"What's in my bottom? In my nappy…. come on……"
Miss 5 guesses "Is it a poo?"
Master 3 laughs and says "Nooooooo!!!"
Miss 4 guesses "Is it a wee?"
Master 3 nods and laughs hysterically and says "YES!!!" with food spitting out of his mouth.
What a great game. No. Really.
Tomorrow is Cup Day holiday. We have no plans. We will do something. I just don't know what.
I'm thinking there'll be some park action. There may even be a little drive. I think we may try to catch up with some friends though. Not sure which friends. Some friends. I adore spending time with the kids, I really do, sometimes I hate it though I must be honest, like when they throw stuff at each other and whinge and carry on and "she bit me" and "he hit me" and "I feel sick" with no good reason kind of thing.
I don't want to go a long way. I want to stay fairly close to home. And not go anywhere near the racetrack because there'll be cars everywhere. And no. I don't mean I would contemplate taking the kids there. I mean we live not so far from the race track so I intend to stay away from that geographical area. Sheesh. Can't say anything.
So yes. I have no plans. We have no plans.
Yet.
They'll come. I know they will.
Oh, but I am wrong, sorry, I just realised.
We are playing Mike the Knight treasure hunt game in the morning. It is already set up and ready to go.
Oh, and we are painting. I finally caved.
Oh, and we are baking too.
Oh, and I have to mow the lawn too.
Actually the day is looking pretty busy….. might have to reschedule that catch up…. oh, no, it's ok, I never scheduled it in the first place…. I just thought about it.
Bonus.
And that my friends is why talking to oneself is not frowned upon but advisable.
Problems are solved before they even arise.
And you're welcome.
Hehe.
Sunday, 3 November 2013
I go through phases
where sometimes I have heaps to say and other times not so much.
Has been one of the latter these last few days.
It isn't that there has been nothing to say. Not at all. Quite the contrary in fact. But sometimes I guess that love of all things quiet extends to "talking it out" by means of this blogly avenue.
So in that regard I had a quiet few days. And then I started to get antsy and need to talk about stuff and so I'm back.
Halloween aftermath has been insane. So. Much. Candy. But the kids have been incredibly restrained. There have been only a few stealth incidents of sly candy munching, discovered purely by accident due to the inadvertent minute morsel of whatever said candy was deftly flying onto a t-shirt or pyjama cuff. Or eyebrow. Yes. I know. Eyebrow.
And as soon as it was discovered there was an instant apology and I think that's pretty cool. So all was forgiven.
We've had a busy few days. Today we went and did a rellie visit which was quite possibly the best rellie visit we have had in a while, save for the odd weather. It was just relaxed which is the best way to be methinks. Too often too much emphasis is placed on the what and where and how and why and who and too little on the letting it be and enjoying it. I also managed to grab some sensational and natural pics, which for me is a huge thing as I adore those type of photos. When you look back at them you don't just think "Oh that is my baby at x age" you are physically transported back - you can hear their laughs, feel their joy and re-experience the entire moment. Those are the pictures that mean the world. Because they are an actual capture of the spirit, not just the locale and participants.
Lil man ate an adult's serve meal today. In entirety. His appetite certainly has grown.
Miss 4 is getting her 6 year old molars. I guess she is pretty advanced so I shouldn't be surprised. I didn't even think of it to be honest, until my sister in law saw that she was clingy and a little out of sorts and suggested that perhaps she may be getting the molars.
Cue bad mother moment feeling. Didn't even think of it.
Worse bad mother moment feeling? When my sister, after taking both girls over to the shops with her, got them each 2 fabulous pairs of shoes, and let me know that they were both in the wrong size. And it was a big difference. Ba bow. Mummy mega fail.
So on the way back home I had a good hour in the car to mentally berate myself, as mothers do. Then just as the hour was coming to a close the mental berating also came to a close because when you think about it, what does it achieve? Does it change what has been? No. Does it make you feel any better? Hell no. So why do we do it? Have a moment. Move on. That's my theory from here on in.
I have mentioned before about when children get words slightly wrong.
One such word created a veritable tornado in my mind when Master 3 mentioned that there was a frog in Miss 4's backside.
Um. I beg your pardon?
"There's a frog in her backside."
This I had to hear.
"Why does she have a frog in her backside?"
"To take to school for show and tell."
Ok.
"Do you mean backpack?"
"Yes, backpack!"
Other times you realise just how much attention the kids pay to the things you say.
Miss 4 was sitting on the floor and had a pipe cleaner bracelet in her hand.
"I'm going to put this on but I'm not going to put it on to tight because if I do I'll cut off my circulation."
Well done mini chick. You're exactly right. But wow.
I am truly constantly amazed at the things these little folks say, and do.
Today in the car Miss 5 asked me why I made them.
I said to her that I had so much love in my heart to give that I just had to make them so that I could give them all that love.
And Miss 4 adds "And hugs"
And Miss 5 adds "And kisses"
And Master 3 adds "Yeah!!! And hugs!"
And it is moments like these, in the moments I realise just how very much I love these little humans, that I do get a little bit emo. I get a bit of a tear in my eye. Same as when I'm watching Tangled and I realise that the princess's real mother and father lost their child for so very many years, and I think how I just couldn't cope if that happened to me. I don't think that was the point the cartoon was trying to make but still. I love my kids. And they love me.
Miss 5 sat on my lap tonight and gave me a cuddle and said "I just don't want to ever ever let you go."
And I don't want her to either. I don't want any of them to. But I do. Because I want them to experience anything and everything. I want them to feel ultimate joy and happiness, and much as I don't want them to experience pain and sadness, I know that they will but I just hope that they know that they can come to me in any circumstances and I will be there for them, always.
I know. They are 5, 4 and 3. It is hardly something to worry about.
And I'm not. But I am thinking about it. Because the past 5 years have flown. And before I know it they will be independent beings, controlling their own destinies.
I think I'm getting a bit deep tonight. It happens sometimes.
Sometimes you really just have to stop. Collaborate. And listen.
And just like that you are now singing Vanilla Ice. Or not. If you are me you are. Pretty catchy beat....
Has been one of the latter these last few days.
It isn't that there has been nothing to say. Not at all. Quite the contrary in fact. But sometimes I guess that love of all things quiet extends to "talking it out" by means of this blogly avenue.
So in that regard I had a quiet few days. And then I started to get antsy and need to talk about stuff and so I'm back.
Halloween aftermath has been insane. So. Much. Candy. But the kids have been incredibly restrained. There have been only a few stealth incidents of sly candy munching, discovered purely by accident due to the inadvertent minute morsel of whatever said candy was deftly flying onto a t-shirt or pyjama cuff. Or eyebrow. Yes. I know. Eyebrow.
And as soon as it was discovered there was an instant apology and I think that's pretty cool. So all was forgiven.
We've had a busy few days. Today we went and did a rellie visit which was quite possibly the best rellie visit we have had in a while, save for the odd weather. It was just relaxed which is the best way to be methinks. Too often too much emphasis is placed on the what and where and how and why and who and too little on the letting it be and enjoying it. I also managed to grab some sensational and natural pics, which for me is a huge thing as I adore those type of photos. When you look back at them you don't just think "Oh that is my baby at x age" you are physically transported back - you can hear their laughs, feel their joy and re-experience the entire moment. Those are the pictures that mean the world. Because they are an actual capture of the spirit, not just the locale and participants.
Lil man ate an adult's serve meal today. In entirety. His appetite certainly has grown.
Miss 4 is getting her 6 year old molars. I guess she is pretty advanced so I shouldn't be surprised. I didn't even think of it to be honest, until my sister in law saw that she was clingy and a little out of sorts and suggested that perhaps she may be getting the molars.
Cue bad mother moment feeling. Didn't even think of it.
Worse bad mother moment feeling? When my sister, after taking both girls over to the shops with her, got them each 2 fabulous pairs of shoes, and let me know that they were both in the wrong size. And it was a big difference. Ba bow. Mummy mega fail.
So on the way back home I had a good hour in the car to mentally berate myself, as mothers do. Then just as the hour was coming to a close the mental berating also came to a close because when you think about it, what does it achieve? Does it change what has been? No. Does it make you feel any better? Hell no. So why do we do it? Have a moment. Move on. That's my theory from here on in.
I have mentioned before about when children get words slightly wrong.
One such word created a veritable tornado in my mind when Master 3 mentioned that there was a frog in Miss 4's backside.
Um. I beg your pardon?
"There's a frog in her backside."
This I had to hear.
"Why does she have a frog in her backside?"
"To take to school for show and tell."
Ok.
"Do you mean backpack?"
"Yes, backpack!"
Other times you realise just how much attention the kids pay to the things you say.
Miss 4 was sitting on the floor and had a pipe cleaner bracelet in her hand.
"I'm going to put this on but I'm not going to put it on to tight because if I do I'll cut off my circulation."
Well done mini chick. You're exactly right. But wow.
I am truly constantly amazed at the things these little folks say, and do.
Today in the car Miss 5 asked me why I made them.
I said to her that I had so much love in my heart to give that I just had to make them so that I could give them all that love.
And Miss 4 adds "And hugs"
And Miss 5 adds "And kisses"
And Master 3 adds "Yeah!!! And hugs!"
And it is moments like these, in the moments I realise just how very much I love these little humans, that I do get a little bit emo. I get a bit of a tear in my eye. Same as when I'm watching Tangled and I realise that the princess's real mother and father lost their child for so very many years, and I think how I just couldn't cope if that happened to me. I don't think that was the point the cartoon was trying to make but still. I love my kids. And they love me.
Miss 5 sat on my lap tonight and gave me a cuddle and said "I just don't want to ever ever let you go."
And I don't want her to either. I don't want any of them to. But I do. Because I want them to experience anything and everything. I want them to feel ultimate joy and happiness, and much as I don't want them to experience pain and sadness, I know that they will but I just hope that they know that they can come to me in any circumstances and I will be there for them, always.
I know. They are 5, 4 and 3. It is hardly something to worry about.
And I'm not. But I am thinking about it. Because the past 5 years have flown. And before I know it they will be independent beings, controlling their own destinies.
I think I'm getting a bit deep tonight. It happens sometimes.
Sometimes you really just have to stop. Collaborate. And listen.
And just like that you are now singing Vanilla Ice. Or not. If you are me you are. Pretty catchy beat....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)