Cup of hot tea?

One of my angel's favorite activities at the moment is helping make mummy a cup of hot tea. Tis a play I encourage heartily and I look forward with great glee to the day I can finally be brought one in bed in the morning. Why else the sleepless nights and vomit stains?? She is doing well, making progress...but still requires a degree of supervision :-)

News of the day : neatness is not genetic

Those who know and love me will be aware that I have what I consider to be a healthy approach to neatness. I don't like things to get out of control, I like relative order in some areas of life and home, but other areas hit a fairly low level on the life priority scales. Frankly I think that there are more important things to do in life. As long as things are not dirty...a little disheveled natural state of being in less visible areas is not the end of the world when there are playful creative learning sharing things to do. Yet somehow I have bred a child with a very particular aversion to dirt. With the exception of chocolate on her face, which clearly doesn't count coz she can't see it, she is very concerned about the presence of "dirty" on hands or feet, hates to have a stray hair on her (I agree, ug!) and is a most considerate and concerned citizen when it comes to tidying up the sand left behind by those messy messy boys in the park...

Bloody sick.....

Tonsillitis and conjunctivitis, come on kids... I don't want to play any more!

Not her finest moment!

My angel is sick, she has a miserable cold and ear infection... It's hideous to the point of vomiting green martian goo in the wee hours :-( the joys of being mummy are really being tested, again... She hasn't wanted to eat anything for days... So this afternoon I set her up in front of Yo Gabba Gabba (mummy approved songs like "why lie? We like you better when you tell the truth!) and gave her a chocolate bickie treat... Apparently that went down well :-) she's all style and grace...

I wanted to go to Cuba

So I wanted to escape... to run off to metaphorically join the circus, and literally join an agricultural cooperative farm in Cuba.  It was to be the opening swan-song of my EPL (eat, pray, love) adventure.  Sadly, tis not to be.  Seems the Visa situation is prohibitive.  I am disappointed - but am I also relieved?

award winning words??

It seems that a rather nice sounding woman from Norway has given my little blog her "cherry on the top award"... I find it rather interesting to think of strange people, sometimes people who are very different from me, reading my blog... In reality I don't think I have a lot of readers... I have 19 followers, which is minuscule in blogging terms, and a handful of browsing friends who let me know that they read my ramblings.... So I figure that my blog is largely a diary for me - a collection of thoughts and images through time, which allow me to look back on over the years and re-capture moments.  A museum, if you will, of my memorable moments in life. 
But I was very touched to discover that my little blog is one of this person's five favourite blogs. 
She wrote
3. Wanderlust, I really enjoy reading about the everyday life of this blogger. Nice blog with many good pictures :) The blog can be found here. A cherry on top award is awarded to you from me :)
Thanks "Small'n' Big"... I appreciate the kindness!

Skimming stones

So I've been feeling stuck... There are things in my life that need to change, and I don't know how to do it. Everything is interconnected... If I change one thing everything else is effected....and unravels... Every option has pros and cons...
I went to see Eat Pray Love and I cried all the way through... I cried because I heard the parts of her story that were mine.  Once upon a time I had passion.  Once upon a time I cared deeply about the wrongs of the world.  Once upon a time I was determined to make a difference.  Now I can't remember the last time I cared deeply about anything.  I hear myself complaining more than celebrating... I hear myself being small, thinking small....
I have moments that move me to my depths... they are all around my child.  When I watch her sleep.  When she takes my hand to walk forward.  When she absent-mindedly plays with my fingers.  When I watch her play when she doesn't know I am watching.  When she rubs my nose with her nose. When her little voice calls "mummy?" when she can't see me.  When she says "lub you mummy".  These moments and a thousand more make my heart swell and make me feel alive.
But the rest of the time... life flows around me.... feelings tickle me, itch me slightly...but don't rock my world.  I feel like things pass me in superficial ways...like skipping stones.
I want to be filled with feeling again.  I want to breath in the richness of a moment.  I want to dive right in to the pool.

Diva's birthday feast!

The creative efforts of friends combine to make a memorable meal that symbolizes the symbiosis of four different flavours of women, balancing each other into a friendship feast.

My big girl...

My angel...
Independent strong-willed kind loving funny wild dramatic generous stubborn adventurous curious smart gentle spontaneous charming sociable willful cheeky active brave stubborn creative excitable willing... Did I mention stubborn?

My heart is full of beauty...

Perfection...

Question...

As a parent, do you ever get past the crippling fear that somehow something is going to take the precious little angel away from you...
Its a constant fear, like the theme music of my life, it underlies and sets the mood for every moment of every day.
I feel so incredibly unbelievably lucky.  I know that it is at once so normal, so common, for people to have children... and at the same time, I know that it is an unfathomable and breath-taking miracle and it could burst like a bubble at any moment.

As a parent, do you just get used to the fear?

I do it myself...

So the day is here... My baby no longer needs me... She now goes down the big slide all by herself... And again...and again...

score 100!

So today I scored a goal..
Shhhh secretly quietly I have been working towards meeting little personal goals.   I haven't told anyone because frankly I am sick of egg on my face when life takes me in other directions...
But today is not one of those days.
A few weeks ago, frustrated by clutter of both the internal and external types, I set myself the goal of getting rid of 100 things by the end of the month. 
And here we are... the last day of the month... and my "out" pile has well over 100 things in it. 
Really I am only scratching the surface of the cleansing process that needs to continue...
So perhaps I will do this goal again...
But in the meantime - Yippee for me!  I'm off to the Salvos with the bags.

My little artist!

My angel has a new chalk board, and she loooooves it :-) recently she has been obsessively asking us to draw fish with her... But today she drew her own! My little artist! Her first non -squiggle! Although perhaps the regular scrawls are actually blue prints for her master plan and we regular humans are just too silly to notice. She is also learning to write A B C and today did an A and a B that any doctor would have been happy with. I am expecting her to be forging notes to day care any day now :-)

It's cliched, but so true... There is truly nothing more beautiful...

Taking steps...

So I am taking steps forward... For some time now I have felt an increasing frustration with not achieving goals... This is essentially interconnected with my deeper sense of confusion over feeling utterly disconnected from any sense of passion for anything. Apart from my angel, of course, nothing feels like it sets my heart on fire. I feel no real engagement with anything except the abiding sense of stuckness and dissatisfaction that has come to characterize my days... I find myself complaining more and more, and I sit listening to myself wondering who on earth this person is and how I can get far away from her... I am not who I am at the moment... I seem to have drifted aimlessly until suddenly I realize I have been in a rip and am way out at sea, far from the solid ground of me... So I am taking steps... I am setting out on that timeless quest... To rediscover me.

Garden goodies...

I love my garden... Earthy, rich, grounding, abundant, joyful... The primal pleasure of growing food goes beyond the logical and into a soft gentle place inside... It just feels good...

Perspective

My angel was a trial today... She projectile vomited half way through her morning nap, which was hardly deliberate but annoying just the same... Then if course there was no chance if going back to sleep... So all day she has been short tempered, easily frustrated and screechy... She does screechy very well indeed. It is ear splitting and makes me feel like my bones are rubbing together in a sort of nails on a board sort of a way... Exceedingly irritating! And since she was feeling out of sorts she wanted to be on top of me all the time, and to have everything I had... My tea, my diet coke, my phone, my keys... You get the picture... Grrrr.... I got grumpy. And then she dropped a heavy toy on
my toe and I snapped and yelled at her. She looked up at me with such sad little eyes and said "sorry"....and my heart broke audibly."crack!".
And then I got the news that a friends baby died last night... Sudden cot death at 14 months old. I simply cannot, nor want to, imagine the horror.
And suddenly my day is put starkly firmly into perspective... Good night kisses felt extra sweet tonight.

Sent from my iPhone

let them eat cake

I feel like a cake that everyone wants a piece of... I slice myself into little bits, but somehow there is never enough to go around... and the slices get smaller until they become crumby and then no-one is happy anyway.  And at the end of the day, the one who goes hungry is me.  Several people have suggested that I need to make difference choices, but perhaps they mean I should choose to give them more cake and let someone else miss out.  Or perhaps there is some secret understanding, a flash of insight that I am currently lacking that will somehow make sense of how stuck and choice-less I feel. 
All I really want is to keep everyone happy... Is that such a bad thing?  Perhaps not... but it seems impossible.

technology!

I have discovered the world of mobile blogging!  woohoo... prepare for the re-emergence of wanderlust-mamma :-)  I'm back baby!

My Christmas elf...

This $6 Christmas tree was the latest in a long line of devices to enable the child to remain happily in her stroller a little longer while mummy does shopping... Until she tired of it after 10 mins so we dumped it sneakily behind a plus women's rack... A metal one I mean :-)

moments of friendship

So recently I had the joyous opportunity to spend an evening with good friends... friends who are near and far came together for organic gluten free corn chips and some cheesy deliciousness, but the real treat was the simple delight of sitting in a room with people who I love and who love me... people with whom I share a history and a language.  We speak and know that the others will understand.... we refer to past moments and laugh without having to explain... we reflect on this time last year, and the year before... secure in the knowledge that we will reflect on this moment some time next year.  We don't see each other often enough anymore... but this had no impact in the moment, it was like we were always together only with a little added excitement.  These are people who have seen me at my ugliest (morphine swollen post cesarean), my most elated (morphine swollen post cesarean), my funkiest and my droopiest... I have revealed my secrets, held others hearts and hands, agonised and celebrated...
I listened, laughed, learned... but mostly luxuriated in the simple pleasure of friendship.

moments of gorgeousness...

So  my angel is growing and blossoming every day... She is learning new words, understanding new concepts, and frankly shocking, surprising and delighting her mum with her journey of becoming her own little person in the world...

There are so many moments which gleam as jewels in the treasure chest of this parenting experience... I keep forgetting them and so I want to record some here...

Like the day that she demanded the jug of water I was using to fill the iron.  When I refused she got her little fingers up onto the table and yanked the place mat that the jug was sitting on, bringing the lot crashing down.  I was cranky, and told her to go away while I cleaned up the spilled water.... She tottled off with a terribly serious face and plonked herself down in her princess tent.  After a new minutes I heard a little voice from the tent "Naughty, naughty, naughty"....

Or the day she tottled across the grass, picked a little tiny flower and brought it gleefully to her mummy!

Or the day she snuggled herself down in bed when I tucked her in... beamed up and me and said "Happy Baby, Night-night!"

and of course all of the other thousand times that she comes to me with arms extended asking "Mummy, cuddle?!"

So many glistening moments that make the sleepless nights seem insignificant.

the resounding silence

So I am aware, well aware, that my blogging has dropped off.   I regret this... I keep stockpiling little stories and anecdotes, or taking pictures that I would like to upload... but somehow time gets away from me!  And then I hesitate because to break the silence with some moment of relative inconsequence seems somehow inappropriate... yet the ball must roll somehow and here I am, giving it a kick...
(not my real legs... sadly!)

I thought I would create context by reproducing facebook updates from the quiet times...You see I can facebook from my iphone, my dear new iphone (post toilet incident of previous blog post)... so I have time to do that when, oh, I am on the toilet... (although I still shudder involuntarily when I bring the precious iphone within a few metres of the drop zone)...

Voiceless I roam, mouthing silent complaints at the sleeping child... 'I say' said the dumb mum to the deaf child...

Tuesday at 20:10 via Facebook for iPhone

...Is observing, with some concern, the obvious joy of doing a poo and then sitting resolutely on it... Ah the simple pleasures of toddlerdom... 

Monday at 07:46 via Facebook for iPhone

...Is shattered... Utterly... Yet the to-do list beckons... Boo! Leave me be oh darned list! Tis the first night of junior masterchef!

12 September at 19:56 via Facebook for iPhone

 

...Is sort of enjoying my cold stopping my morning exercise routine, but is being guilt tripped by Burt and Ernie doing aerobics... Sneaky kids tv!

12 September at 07:34 via Facebook for iPhone

 ...Is lying in bed nursing a cold, listening to the rain, luxuriating in the silence of the sleeping child, playing iPhone games... Not so bad at all!!'

10 September at 10:35 via Facebook for iPhone

 

09 September at 22:30

mummy's reward for making such an adorable one... ruthlessness in the pursuit of cuteness... waa haa haa

07 September at 23:45

 

Is wondering how to find sunshine on the inside... Blue skies above, drizzle within.

07 September at 11:31 via Facebook for iPhone

 

Where does one buy those cleverly disguised animal backpack child leads??? 1 hour in dfo, one shoplifting runaway child, several new grey hairs for mummy... It's either restraints or hibernation....

05 September at 19:57 via Facebook for iPhone

Is tired but the joy of seeing the absolute wonder in the little angel eyes at her first fireworks show was so worth it....

05 September at 06:58 via Facebook for iPhone 

is off to buy spring seedlings :-)

29 August at 14:24

 

 

You get the idea... I've been sick, I've been loving that kid to within an inch of her pooey bottom life, I've been planting seedlings and embracing spring, despite the odd drizzly day...

Its life, its my life, apparently.  Last week I looked in the mirror and realised that I am about to turn 39... even now my finger hesitates hopefully over the 2 instead of the 3... can I not be 29 again??   I feel more like 28 than 38... Yet somehow my youth is behind me and this... this odd, bubbling along, plodding by, bumping up and down path is THE path... this is THE LIFE that I live!  I spent my youth wondering what THE LIFE I LIVE would be like... and suddenly I realise that this is it.  This is "WHAT I DO"... I work in a semi-meaningful job... I have some pretty nice friends... I have a dear dear little child... I date and make relationships work.... I live in a pretty nice house.  None of it is remarkable, none of it is terrible... its all pretty damn nice and sometimes I feel incredibly lucky and blessed but most of the time I just, well, roll along with it.  I think I thought my life would be somehow more dramatic...more sensational, more... well, more.  

I'm not sure what, if anything, I would want to change... and yet somehow... its like a drink that I swallow in my thirst but don't really taste... it just slips on by and then it is gone... and I want another glass that i can sip and savour and really get the full experience of.... I want another life so that I can live all the options, all the potentials, all the choices.  I have made some pretty adventurous choices in my life, yet also some pretty safe and tame ones.  There is always more that I could, should, would do... and yet... life slips on by and I find myself turning 39.

 

Well actually, my birthday is not really until January so at least I have plenty of time to wallow in angst before then.... oh and think of it... it will then be the count down to 40!  What peaks and troughs I can plow in the move towards that most powerful life marker! 

On with life then! 

the best bl#&$dy feeling ever

So I might be doing the dishes, getting distracted by the kids show on TV, drying my hair or eating something... and I hear, or don't hear, the patter of little feet... and then there she is... looking up at me grinning... a smile of pure joy.  And the reason - just because I am there.  Just coz I am her mum and she thinks I am pretty fantastic.  She looks at me and smiles with her whole face radiating happiness... and in that moment my heart stops for a beat... my breath becomes superfluous... everything in the world contracts into that moment which is at once over in a brief millisecond and at the same time ever-lasting.... my world dissolves into her smile.... and its the best bloody feeling I've ever known.

of giving and receiving...

So I was pondering...
Generosity - what does it really mean?  Or rather... In order to be generous do we have to give without hope or expectation of receiving?  Perhaps there are different layers of generosity - there is that which gives selflessly with no thought or desire for return or reciprocation... There is that which gives openly and with willingness to self sacrifice, however does expect something in balance - a sort of "I'll scratch your itch because I trust that when I need you to, you will scratch mine back"... and then perhaps there is that which says I will give to you, but on my terms and in the ways that suit me.
Which is the better?  Clearly the first is the more noble... yet it is exceedingly rare and somewhat hard to practice in daily life... and there is the slight downside that people may not trust you and think you are mad, or you end up broke and burnt out.  The second seems the most practical - but is it really generosity? 
These are the thoughts that I ponder... but now I hear my child wake and I am off to practice the first sort - except its not really... because I get soooo much back from her.... its not selfless at all!

mummy's perogative :-)

So I made this precious incredible little miracle... surely I am allowed to have some fun with it??

Discovering my inner Pauline

So my angel has reached the age where discipline has become a necessary theme in our relationship.  I am passionately committed to having a child who has good social skills, clear limits and a proper sense of awe for her mother's authority.  Unfortunately I gave birth to a dear sweet poppet who is an Aries, with a Taurus rising and a Virgo moon.  The kid's got guts.  "Stubborn" simply does not describe it.   Sure she smiles angelically while she looks her mother in the eye and gleefully defies her, but this is just not cutting the mustard - it may work on Ga-Ga... but Mummy is not falling for it, damn it!   Unfortunately I am an Aquarian with Cancer rising and a Pisces moon.  You don't get much more airy, watery, soft, gentle, "lets talk about it" than that.  So it is taking a super-human effort to be the B-O-S-S.   Already "NO" has become relatively meaningless... I have spoken it firmly, shouted it, growled it, and repeated it ad-nauseum.  She uses it exceedingly well, but she ignores everyone else's use of it.  (perhaps because we frequently ignore her use of it as well...)  So I have taken a stand with the day care centre and adopted their words... I figure this will help with consistency, and it will be doubly reinforced, and well, it seems to work better.
Now I just need to find a way to not feel like a joke, and to not use a nasty nasal accent, while I am saying "STOP - I DON'T LIIIIIIKE IT"!

(for anyone who doesn't get it... google Pauline Hanson... or enjoy this video)

yumminess personified

Scrummy yummy chocolatey goodness :-)
Just coz.

"Good Morning" in 3D

Erk...
So its Monday morning... I wake with a sore throat heralding my infection with the angel's nasty little cold from last week.  I hear her cry for me from her cot, rouse myself from a deep and abiding urge to stay asleep, and totter into her room mumbling an approximation of a good morning greeting...
Her response?  A warm sticky stream of projectile vomit in my face. 
Ah the joys...
I guess we are not going to day care/work today.

twice bitten, not shy but mad....

So my angel has been bitten again.  And now I am mad.... the Director of the centre shall be hearing from me.  The wrath of the mild mannered mother is unleashed...
It tears my heart out to look at her bruised little face.  Of course it triggers all sorts of mummy guilt... about working, about sending her to day care...about not being the perfect mother who protects her from any pain at all... But I know too that there is nothing I can do really... that this is her journey and I can only hold her hand and give her cuddles when she asks for them... which she does now :-)

seriously with the mod cons?

So I had a night away in the illustrious Jupiters Casino in, wait for it, Townsville.... I happened to be there for work at the same time as Ms C...so I had the honour of lobbing in to her swish hotel booking.  Not only was it at the (woohoo) Casino (quite the posh address in Townsville it seems) but a faulty TV over-came Ms C's British reluctance to complain, and we received an upgrade to the newly refurbished "executive suites"... noice!  All quite stylish daarling... Now I don't want come across as a country bumpkin all wow'ed by the mod cons of sophisitication... I mean I have stayed in many more than my fair share of luxury hotels while posing as an intrepid aid worker in the tropical pleasures of Fiji.... And at the same time I don't want to lose the ability to enjoy things with child-like innocence or to become jaded and unappreciative...so I oooh and aaaah at the glass cased bathroom with its mammoth tub, played freely with the electric privacy screens that slid down around the bath when required, played with the tasteful mood lighting and bounced on the king sized bed in glee...
My attempts to be both worldly and yet still balanced enough to have fun in, you know, a sophisticated professional travelling for work sort of way were somewhat damaged however by my experience of the shower.
I blame the architect.  Clearly no-one thought about the reality of the experience of the user when they designed the oh so modeeerrrn but highly impractical shower.  Things looked normal enough... a space with a drain, a tap on the wall, a hand-hold-able shower head (modern and sleek) tucked into its cradle on the wall... Innocently I stepped into the space, taking care to stand out of range of that first cold jet from the shower head.  I turned the tap, my mind on other things... what to wear to dinner... what desserts they would be likely to have on the buffet... and lo... Boom!  I was rudely jolted from my ponderings by a blast of icey water on the top of my head!  good god above!  Being the quick thinker that I am I immediately turned off the tap and stood, dripping forlornly, and looked up.  There in the ceiling of the bathroom, an oh-so-tastefully discreet panel with little dots on it.  Set flush to the ceiling was a secret hidden second shower head.  Not a recognisable one, mind, but a super-mod panel of little secret fighter jets.  I looked at the tap in consternation.  Set into the handle was a super discreet little button, which clearly one must press if one wanted water to come out of the actually visible shower head.  Well.... where the hell was the warning!?  Where were the bloody instructions!?  There was no red lettered notice as you enter the shower zone saying "beware - water will come out of the roof unless you press the little silver button!"  I mean sheesh.
Once I got my breath back I laughed of course - what else could I do?  But really..... modernity gone mad I say.

a sad sad moment in the toilet

So I would have taken a picture... except I would have used my phone to do it...
This morning, after reading books and playing merrily on my bed after her morning bottle, the little angel wriggled off the bed and made for my pride, my joy, my tool of life, my iPhone.   "Heeellllooooo??  Ga-Ga?  Helllooo?"  she exclaimed, poking hopefully at the phone... so dutifully I obeyed and pressed the call button and Ga Ga was there on the line and they had a lovely chat...
And then my mistaken action began.  A lovely bonding moment turned sour in mere minutes... I was distracted.  I was having a moment of quiet contemplation... I don't know what I was doing - staring blankly into space perhaps... but I roused myself to the sound of a little voice saying "ooooooooooooooh" in a tone that brought instant fear to my heart.  Oh dear... what had she done now??  Now that she is walking a disaster is never more than a momentary distraction away.
I leapt out of bed and peered around anxiously - where could she be??
And then I realised...my midnight stagger to the loo had been incomplete.  I didn't close the toilet door.  With a sinking feeling I hustled down the hall... and sure enough... there is a little angel face peeping anxiously into the toilet bowl repeating "oooooooooh".  And there in the toilet bowl... submerged mournfully... you guessed it.  Mummy's iPhone.
Sob.
I can write no more...
Tis a dark dark day.

birthday sorbet

Yum Yum

So we met a little friend for birthday treats yesterday and the little princess got to try her first non-dairy sorbet... mummy gave up any attempt at civilised dining etiquette and simply gave her the spoon, and she lapped it up! Half the scoop disappeared rapidly... but clearly it was in intense experience!  This was the face made with every mouthful!

Tired of being busy

So its a knife that cuts both ways... I have a morbid fear of being alone, friendless, nothing to do and nowhere to go... but at the same time I crave quiet time, peace, space by myself, time with nothing to do and nowhere to be and no-one to interact with... and every day seems waaaay too busy....
I know, I know... you can't have it both ways... If it was possible then I would be able to retire on the book rights "How to have your cake and eat it too"... oh hang on, that sounds familiar, like most things these days I suspect its been done as a theme...or is that the new weight watchers slogan?  Oh don't mention weight watching...boo hoo mine is limited to buying weight watchers cottege cheese and somehow praying for the miraculous revelation that I lose a KG with every creamy mouthful...Needless to say it hasn't happened yet... I will add "manifest modern day miracle" to my staggeringly mountainous "TO DO" list.
Pish.  I am off to bed.

21 days to change a habit

For my birthday this year my dear friend sent me a little book of habit record sheets.  Working on the popular principle that it takes 21 days to change a habit, the tear-out pages of habit record sheets provide a pre-printed (take the excuses out of it) format to record a list of 13 (don't ask me why its 13) "good habits" and then a tick-off space for each day of the week... with a space for a reward at the end of the week.
Earlier this year, a few procrastination months after my birthday, I gave it a go.  And lo... I actually found that, in some ways and in some areas, it worked.  I opted to blu-tac the sheets to my bathroom mirror, I made a list of 13 new habits I wanted to introduce to my life, and each day I checked off the ones I had done in the day.  It worked for a few different reasons.  Firstly I included things on the list that I knew were relatively quick and easy to achieve eg make my bed each day.  This meant that there was almost always at least a couple of things that I could tick, saving me from the demoralisation of complete failure.  Secondly, putting it on my bathroom mirror worked a treat because I looked at it for motivation every morning, and for reckoning every night - it was unavoidable.  The rewards section I found didn't really work so well for me - sadly, I am really quite undisciplined when it comes to rewards - and either I don't want the reward enough to work for it, or if I really do want it - I give it to myself anyway.... What did work however - was the reward of the tick itself... I found myself craving the ticks, wanting the ticks, working for the ticks... rather than currency to gain an external treat - they became reinforcement in and of themselves.  And some habits changed for good - months after the paper faded, some of my new behaviours remain changed...
And then... technology stepped in.
I got my iphone.  I love my iphone... it has enhanced my life in many ways... I can stay on top of work emails from my couch, I can keep up with my friends on facebook while feeding the baby, I can search for recipes while in the supermarket... I love my iphone.  My iphone did however undermine my 21 days routine.  I found an App you see... that did the job of my bits of paper on the bathroom mirror... and did it with a month in review function, with colours and lights... buuuuut....
no longer was my list of habits in front of me morning and evening... I had to go and open the App... and so... slowly, inexorably... it faded from my life.
So - today I resurrect one of the "simple is best" things in my life... and bring back the habits score sheets.  I now need to put them a lot higher up on my mirror or the child will eat them while cleaning her teeth... but I am excited about bringing back this old friend.

she's on the move!

So my angel is up and walking... definitely, incontrovertibly, inarguably, undeniably a baby no more... its so terribly butterscotch caramel hot chocolate sweet!  After months of taking the odd unstable steps I think I had been lulled into a false sense of security that nothing would ever change and that I would still be calling out "good walking baby, you can do it!" at her high school graduation ceremony.  But no, in that inexorable way of babies, she has grown up.  Yesterday I arrived to pick her up from "school" and she saw me from the other end of the balcony and she was off... thankfully towards me (as opposed to today when I had to contend with the demoralising tantrums of her wanting to go and keep playing instead of coming home with me...)  She is no graceful ballerina yet, I will admit, she sort of rolls, lolls, from side to side like a boat in swell... "tottling" seems a very apt description I think.  She tottles... but now instead of needing to be semi-forced into it, she is loving it, and is off and on the go.  I know, I know... I already wonder why I was in a hurry to see her walk... I must admit that when I was trying to get dressed today and she managed to open the cupboard, take a out a wine glass and smash it dramatically upon the ground at her feet I did think wistfully of the slug-like floor bound days when I could put her down and know I could come back later and she would still, like yesterday's dirty socks, be exactly where she was left.
Every moment is so precious, every day brings such change, and each moment, once passed, can never be experienced again.  I am drinking them in as deeply as I can... these precious grains of gorgeousness, slipping constantly through my fingers.... but sparkling all the way.

Its Time Out Time

So my little angel is growing up, so fast that my head spins thinking about it... and I have always sworn to be a responsible parent, a parent who cares about the long term well-being of her child... a parent who knows that sometimes short term toughness is necessary for longer term happiness... a parent who considers the needs of others and knows that a well behaved socially adept child is more likely to be successful and popular.  I therefore am a big fan of consistent boundaries.  Thus far I have not been overly firm with the little angel, I figured that a lot of the time she really was too little to understand that she was doing wrong, or how to behave appropriately in particular circumstances...
Now however, I observe her little mind ticking over, I see her little eyes calculating different people's reactions, I see her testing behaviours as she thinks "what will mummy do if I do this?" and I know that it is time.  The time has come for consequences.  Waahaahaaa.... :-)  We started with some little behavioural learning tasks to see how she went, and yes, she has proven that she can learn with praise and reward.  She now knows that she needs to pack away her bath toys before she gets wrapped up tight in mummy's warm towelled arms... She now knows how to pick up the tupperware and put it back in the drawer and close the drawer when asked... She knows that if mummy leaves the pantry door open then she should shut the door, not pull all the jars out. 
All this is wonderful and we are making great progress with adding new appropriate behaviours.  We are not doing so well, however, on eliminating the undesirable ones.  In particular, the one that really urks me is the gleeful and determined shot-put throwing of mummy's carefully prepared delicious morsels of sustenance onto the floor.... day after day, night after night... rejected treats thump ingloriously onto the floor boards.  Every meal those quick little fingers fling her food forth...
So... It is time for (dum dum dum duuuuum)  THE THINKING CORNER!
So it has begun.  She gets one warning... which she laughs in the face of like an impassioned toreador... And then, with the next splat of fruit or crumple of cracker... its OFF TO THE THINKING CORNER!
I am not entirely sure that she gets it.  I fairly sure that she is not getting that the thinking corner is not supposed to be fun.  At the moment she finds it highly amusing...  mummy makes a funny face with her eyebrows all pulled down, and her voice goes all deeep and serious like Pa-Pa... and then wooosh she is flying through the air and plopped on her bott in the corner of the hallway.  Mummy then turns her back, arms crossed, and the angel commences chuckling.... she grins and giggles, and teases mummy by starting to crawl away then stopping... and waiting for mummy to sit her back on her bum... and this game goes on until mummy sternly says ok... takes her hand and walks her back to the offending food, demands that she picks it up and hands it to mummy... and then she goes back to eating.  Or refusing to eat...as is usually the case.  Yes its all a great fun game!   We even found a special thinking corner when we went out for lunch yesterday... Cafe's have thinking corners too!

I am persevering, choosing to remain focussed on the belief that sooner or later she will tire of the time out ritual, and then it will get less fun, and then it might actually start working!
(Disclaimer : Picture is NOT MY CHILD...its from Flickr, really!)

YPTD

So I went to a concert.. the opening of the new "go-between" bridge concert... The experience showed me that I am really really old...
First - OK its winter... I expect it to be cold... perhaps I am paranoid, perhaps I am simply now deeply entrenched in the "take a cardie" age group... so I rugged up, a couple of layers on top, stockings under my jeans, knee high boots, scarf and wool jacket.  The concert was out-doors - on the bridge over the water... and I knew a fair amount of walking there and back would be involved... it made sense to me!  Of course, I sweltered, stripped off layers that I ended up lugging around with me, and was surrounded by young things who clearly did not feel compelled to bring a cardie, let alone any pants.
Secondly - I was surrounded by young things... young things wearing bugger all... it was highly distracting!  and not in a good way... no, I was not perving, instead of listening to the music and soaking up the vibe, man, I was thinking about how cold they must be and why on earth anyone could come out in a summer frock to a winter night time open air concert, on a bridge.
Thirdly - it took me until the end of the night to realise that the band I was listening to featured some guy from the band "The Go-Betweens" ... and then another hour or so to realise that this was connected to it being on the "go-between" bridge... duh!
Fourthly... only the really old can be so very very uncool as to take the micky out of the young by mimicking their lingo so badly that no-one got it... Someone I was with commented on the number of young people jostling to get to the front of the audience, in front of all the people who had stood uncomfortably in one spot, forsaking food and toilets, for four hours to secure a view of the top-line act.... "YPTD" I answered... nodding knowingly... "Huh??" was the collective response...   "Young People These Days?"  I explained...  insert sound of crickets chirping... well, there would have been if the damn music wasn't so loud!

Comforting moments

So I am known to quip the line "parenting is merely a very poorly paid cleaning job"... as I de-clutter, de-toy, de-food scrap, de-mountain-of-laundry, de-puke my home AGAIN (several times a day...).  Today however I will qualify that statement... parenting is indeed a very poorly paid cleaning job, but this job comes with interspersed fleeting moments of extreme beauty... moments which take your breath away and make all the cleaning somehow worth it.  Its a package deal, and I accept whole-heartedly.
Every day my angel does new things... changes, grows up.  Its mind-blowing to watch her start to think like a real person... not simply an inanimate eating pooing puking machine (as she has seemed at times)... Today I awoke, as usual, to the screeching alarm clock of the child who somehow knows, despite the fact that it is pitch dark and freezing cold, that it is now exactly 5:30am.  I dragged my sorry butt out of my toasty warm doona, and stumbled blearily into her room.  I had been up to the same screech almost hourly through the night each time she distressed herself coughing her little head cold out.  If I said I was not feeling perky I am sure you would understand the degree of understatement - especially when I add that I have had the night coughing routine every night for the last oh, I don't know, four weeks or so?   Give or take a week...it all goes blurry after a while... But where was I?  Oh yes, escaping from the bleakness into a moment of radiant sunshine.  As I swayed sadly by the side of the cot, arms out-stretched to lift the angel from her cot-of-entrapment (as she describes it so vocally)... A moment... she sat back, looked around her bed, found her pink bunny comforter... picked it up and hugged it, patted the bunny on the head... cuddled it again and put it down...before smiling and stretching out to me to be picked up.   Suddenly the fatigue and the cold and the darkness were irrelevant.  How did she learn to comfort her comforter to say good bye?  Was she thanking bunny for supporting her through the night?  Was she reassuring bunny that she would be back and all would be ok?  Was she getting one last cuddle in before the day began?
I'll never know... but I do know that she thought about something, acted on it, believed it, felt good about it...
Moments of pure untainted beauty...

reconnecting

So recently I had a big falling out with a dear friend... in the way of the multi-decker sandwich of life, there were more than a few flavours in the mix... some new, some old, some borrowed, some sold (well perhaps not sold, but it did rhyme so nicely :-)
Along the way of the conflict path I passed through confusion, took a dog-leg turn at infuriated, dawdled through devastated, parked in resigned for a while, and finally took a deep breath and a running jump at resolution. 
This weekend my friend and I worked out our issues and took the first happy steps to rebuilding our friendship.  I am so glad, so glad to have my friend back, so glad that I did not walk away when it would have been easier to do that, so glad that she also wanted to work it out, so glad that we were both big brave girls in tackling the miscommunications head first, so glad that this journey has come around the jogging track and back to the starting line.
And a wonderful part of the outcome is that I have had a novel and quite delightful experience - I have experienced having someone consciously and overtly choose to be my friend.  So often I have found friendships to be something that you quietly drift into, through circumstances, and can drift out of, or not - but they are non-verbal states of being.  When we date there is generally some point at which someone says something along the lines of "hey - wanna like, you know, be like boy/girl friends or what?" or perhaps something more articulate and romantic if you are lucky.  But rarely do we, out loud, name our choice to be friends. So this weekend my friend told me clearly that she wanted to be my friend... and I told her, succinctly, that I chose to be her friend...
And the experience felt a little odd...but really really nice.