more words?

I don't have more words today. 

There are more words from other days, other years, other memories, other..... lives. Some years I've written lots of words. That was good. At that moment. {this, this, this or this one if you feel like having a little sob about your own losses}.

But right now. On this overcast, rainy day (the sun is trying trying trying to peek out), with the birds around me as company. Not so many words. 

eight years. a long time. a blink of an eye.

I do think that being here, on this land. Her land. Is good. For me, right now. It's good. Of course, there's moments when really it's not good either. When the what ifs, the not fairs, the what abouts come bursting forth in my mind. Trying to make a different reality. Can't be done. This is the reality. 

Living here. On this land. Without her. With thoughts, and memories, and dreams, and wishes. But without her.

there is much loss in the world, today, as every day. there is grief, and heartwrenching pain, there is throbbing endurance, there is understanding and knowledge, there is mis-understanding. there are wishes, dreams, what ifs, perhapses. and there is knowing that this is just the way. on this day. this day of my days. 

i send my love to my dear ones, my family. my long big wide laughing crying crazy beautiful family. all of those of you who are my family. my close, my far, my near, my distant family. those i've had connections with.

i am thinking also of others who are feeling loss today. shared loss. personal loss. 

there are many of us who have a moment in our lives.life where something happens and we are forced onto that other existence. to become our parallel being. to not be ourselves anymore. to be the other person that we are. i am myself, but not myself.

in my mind and heart right now. dear friends who are facing.have faced moments of becoming a different person.woman.daughter.mother.father.son.lover.man my love to you today, for today, but also for the future, for the strength, the courage. i am naming you in my heart, my mind, my soul, my love.

"How can we compare sufferings?

Each person's suffering is the most important.

But what enables us to go on?

Only sound, which comes and goes

like water amongst the stones."

Goran Tunstrom 

(found in the book "The Mark of the Angel" by Nancy Huston)

7 years

this weekend marks the 7th year since my mother's death.
i have written about her in past years {here, here and here if you want to read}.

this weekend i am planning on spending precious time with my children.
we've been talking about grandma Michele. who she was, mentioning little things about her. of course both my children can never know what she was like - i feel that i can never represent her to the best of who she was. but i continue to try. and will always continue to try.

i love that my children mention little things about her. things i've told them. and so by me talking and telling them, they then remind me at a later stage.

perhaps we'll make bread - kneading the dough with strength, passion, love and honesty the way my mother did on our wooden bench. her strong arms moving the dough back and forth. i remember her talking to me about the ram's head shape it makes under your hands. {hmmmm. Sam wears a ram's head pendant around his neck}.

perhaps we'll sit and stitch, or try to crochet for a moment. remembering how my mum was always doing something with her hands. how she was a potter, a drawer, a gardener, a knitter / crocheter, a teacher, a listener.

perhaps we'll tickle and giggle and cuddle and laugh. the way my mum used to. generous laughter - sparkling pale blue eyes. her mouth open.

perhaps we'll walk around the house totally n.a.k.e.d.* the way my mum always used to. {Mishi particularly likes that one - being so very very similar!}. or wear a sarong - a pink faded batik piece of cloth that she wore for so many years. wrapped, with expert fingers, around her narrow body.

i will think about jumping in freezing cold water, screaming with the sheer happiness of the fright of the cold. something my mother did regularly enough - the Winter cold creek water, or ocean not yet warmed by the Summer.

we will light a candle. in the candle holder that my mother made with her hands. the exact same brand of candles that my mother always burned.

i will spend my days thinking and remembering the wonderful things my mother gave me, did for me, offered me, showed me, told me.

i will listen for snippets of information about her. about who she was, things from people who knew her better, more, differently than me.

i will laugh and love and cry and smile and pass on all that i know i am because of her. i will hold my head high.

i will have soft, silent peace in my heart.

i will miss my mother every single day for the rest of my life. and i will cherish that i was her child.

*i myself have not one single issue with saying, writing, thinking, mentioning this word. i do, though, have issues with this word potentially bringing unwanted search engine visitors.....

we saw the din-on-saurs

On Tuesday, the kids and I went to the museum and both the galleries (GOMA and QAG). We had a wonderful time looking at the water fountains, some that haven't been full and splashing for many years now (due to water restrictions). And seeing matchboxes turned into art, and talking about how art doesn't always have to be "art". How sometimes pieces of old tin, and typewriters and rolls of paper can be art as well as drawings and paintings.

We searched the room of artifacts, and found bird eggs and nests, and turtle shells and stuff animals. Ari said the room was scary, which I suppose it could be, if you think about all the snakes and spiders and furry animals - and sad too, to think that all these animals are dead. But also very amazing to have the opportunity to see them all, and touch some (and really, they'd probably be dead anyway, rotted into the bush somewhere!).

We looked at the dinosaur garden. I remember it from my youth - still the same, the "dinosaur fossil trees" a little bigger, but the massive dinosaur statues the same. For me, now, I do not see the magic of the the Do Not Climb signs, but the kids still see the magic and the fantasy. I and try and remember our visits to the museum and looking and searching and exploring and learning and loving.And then, instead of heading home, we moved on to the GOMA where we walked through furry trees. It was like a Winter wonderland. I took (sneaky) photos with my phone, Ari kept telling Mishi not to touch, and Mishi looked (and touched) in awe and amazement and the maze of fluffy trees. We explored Alien world, and - to tell you the truth - were a little disappointed (Ari and me) by the promise of special rooms to unlock with our Alien cards. Rooms which ended up being boxes with a silly tv screen and an even sillier message. It's good though, for a four-year old to learn about the disappointment of advertising. And good for me to see my son have expectations and not be happy with bland and boring.But the best part of the day, for me, was when Mishi finally fell asleep in her pram. Ari and I sat down at the riverside cafe, where we drank juice (and yes, some hot chips), and drew and chatted.

Finally I breathed easily in my whole body. I let the strain and tension slip away. We sat under the trees, listening to the birds and the water. And I chatted with my son. My son who is intelligent, and loving and kind and so so funny, and very talented at his drawing, and his writing. And understands so much. And each day amazes me all over again.
And watched my daughter sleep. My daughter who is silly, and growing, and funny, and dances so beautifully and loves her brother intensely, and talks more each day, and sings songs and counts, and talks about herself. And understands so much! And each day amazes me all over again.
And I sat and drew, unashamedly, not caring what my pictures looked like. And I tried to be amazed at myself all over again.
*** Excuse the quality of these photos, they are taken with my phone camera. Sometimes the feel and memory-inducing aspect of a photo is more important than the quality. ***

night time

Continuing on with the 'fuzzily' theme, here are a few not very focused photos. But I like them anyway. Life doesn't always have to be sharp and clear and crisp to make sense, or be correct. Does it?

Tonight is the second in a row that Mishi has gone to bed with not 'mummy milk'. This is a big breakthrough for such a milky-girl. I have been trying to slowly ease her over the past couple of weeks, with mixed results. But progressive results, at least.

Last night, on a whim, I suggested that maybe Mishi might like to have a special bottle of milk for bed. Sam went and made her a bottle, and she happily followed him into the kitchen. She carried her bottle around, almost proudly. And suckled it easily, contentedly in bed while I sang songs to the kids, and cuddled Mishi to sleep.

It did take a little while, but not so long as it could have. She fussed a bit, mainly about being comfortable how she was lying rather than wanting my milk. Eventually she slept. Waking 45 minutes later, I settled her with more cuddles.

So, night one - no milk! (She did have milk in the morning, at about 4.30am. But I'm okay with that. We're already happily lying beside each other, and it keeps her sleeping a bit longer in the morning. After all, I don't think that I'm entirely ready to be weaned from her!).

So, for bed tonight Sam made her bottle, which she took off to bed (after reading my favourite - "Emily's Balloon"). Much more fussing than last night, and hitting me in the face. And trying to pull up my shirt. "mik. mik. mik". But I cuddled her, and let her hit me. Whenever I tried to sing she hit in the mouth, informing me no singing. Yet finally she settled, mainly by herself - not letting me touch her. And little whimpers, then soft breathing. Then sleep.

So far she hasn't woken up since finally falling asleep at 7.45pm. That's almost two hours. I'm sure writing this will be a jinx - that's okay.

I think that maybe Mishi is ready for this weaning thing. Maybe she'll be okay. And I can go out at night time for a cup of tea with my friend. And not be called home for a screeching baby. Maybe I can have my body back to myself - once the milk eases and dries up (sure there will be a little while of soreness first!).

Now, am I ready for the weaning? I can't ask my mum about when we were weaned, or how. My dad doesn't remember. I always thought that I would feed my children until they simply stopped. But life isn't happening that way, and I have to learn to change my expectations of my mothering. And still be happy with that. I have to believe when I tell myself that I have given Mishi so much feeding her this long, and that it's only taking from both her and me if I continue feeding more when I'm so not wanting to.

With Ari I stopped him because I was five months pregnant with Mishi. Ari was 23 months old. He had started biting me. He was down to only 2-3 feeds a day anyway. I remember it as being quite easy. One day when he bit me I simply said no, and that was it. He asked a couple of times over the next few days, yet didn't push or whinge or cry. So. Let's hope both Mishi and I can wean that easily, happily and healthily.

My thoughts of the word weaning are not negative. Instead of taking something away from my daughter, I feel that I am opening her up to more. And myself in the process. Dr Sears says that the Hebrew word for weaning is 'gamal' which means to ripen. I really like that thought and perspective on a natural and necessary aspect of mothering and breastfeeding. What are your thoughts, ideas, experience? Please, I love having advice from other women.

the milk thing + other thoughts

For ages now I have been talking (complaining) about the constant tiredness and me being generally totally run-down. Well, this continues; in a way I am getting used to feeling like this. And keep thinking, and telling myself, that I will continue to be like this for many more months (at least) to come.

I think, really, one of the biggest reasons is the breastfeeding of Mischa - which seems to be stretching out longer and longer. Not saying that I am at all ready for weaning; just ready for a little easing of the neediness of the milking.

This week, hopefully I have seen a small glimpse that the easing is slowly happening. The past few nights, she has settled to sleep very easily with a feed on the couch, and then happily moving into bed and having me sing her to sleep and stroke her face. Up until now she has needed milk to get herself back to sleep; all through the night. As in, if she wakes at 9pm she needs a drink, then perhaps again at 10.30, 12pm, and a few more times until morning (I stopped clock checking a long time ago!).

This is a big reason why she still sleeps in bed with us. I see no reason to get out of bed, in the cold, and get her out of bed (or a cot), and us both have to wake up fully just to settle back to sleep. So instead, she simply finds me in the night, and has a drink while still half asleep; I always wake up - but at least I don't have to get out of bed!

So, I suppose as well as the draining feeling of having someone want (need?) my milk - strength - I have the interupted sleep of being squashed in a bed. Oftentimes Ari is in there with us all too. Four in the bed is quite crowded, let me tell you that!

Sam and I are used to it, and both know that it won't continue on for a long time more. This part of childhood passes so quickly; in the end I know that I will want them snuggled in my bed for longer than they will want to be. Though, saying that, I still would love the opportunity to snuggle in bed with my parents.

And in the meantime I will battle through this tiredness, and continue to find ways to keep my mind running - even if only at half capacity. Or, my body stumbling through the days at limited speed. The kids do the running and jumping and squealing enough for all of us, and we are all used to living in the mess (when the two adults have to delegate what they can manage with their time and energy).

I know that so many parents out there cope and manage with so much more; they achieve miracles during their spare time, keep a tidy house, spend quality and loving time with their children (all five or so of them!), and still have time to wash their hair. I also know that there are people out there with one child who cannot cope at all, who can't get out of bed, are overwhelmed by the immense workload of a child (or children), who live in a pigsty, and can't remember the last time they flossed their teeth.

What I am trying to say is; I have to stop feeling as if I am failing because I am not "achieving", I have to learn to remember and understand that we are all different and all having different experiences from this "parenting thing", and that even if I don't do craft projects with my children every day, or have a documented journal of their every moment, or have a tidy house, or.... any number of other things I think I should be doing. That I am still a wonderful mother - I am the best mother I can be RIGHT NOW; and I think my children know and understand and appreicate that.

The first photo is the view from my bed, where I look out, while Mishi drinks, and I can see the almost bare branches of the Chinese elm* which so perfectly shows the changing Seasons here in Brisbane. The leaves are yellowing and tumbling off, the new growth is already sitting there waiting, almost popping open (Winter really isn't that long here), the not quite bare branches are embeded in my memory - inspiration for works and projects I one day may attempt or even complete. But for now, I am happy to let me daughter suckle, my son sleep, and my husband slumber, while I daydream, and my mind meanders.

*If you ever think about planting one of these glorious trees, stop for a moment and look around - because they can be a weed in some locations; like here in Brisbane where they seem to thrive and spread and grow and grow. Beautifully shaped trees that they are, just take care!

work'n' 9-5

Last month I started working one-two days a week back at the job I was working before Mishi was born. (Which was different to the place I worked full time for six years, and left before Ari was born). It's a pretty little dress shop/boutique, with lovely homewares and a Japanese feel to it - while all the clothing is made locally in Brisbane.

I used to enjoy it. It was so different from my full-time job (which I loved for different reasons). But now, having only been there for a handful of shifts, I am already bored. Is there something wrong with me? The environment is pleasant, the customers are friendly, the boss is generally fine and I don't see them that much. But, I think, it's just not challenging me anymore. I have so many other things I want to be doing. Instead of standing there and selling for someone else I want to be creating for myself, or playing with the kids, even listening to the music that Ari has been playing on repeat these past few days.

It's so hard to leave my children in the morning. I know they will have a lovely day - today with their Dad, tomorrow with their Grandma. (Yes, we have made the decision, yet also are lucky enough, to not have to put them into childcare). They will often have a better day with other family members, than with me. But, that's not the point!

I have so many ideas, and itchy fingers when I'm standing at work, dusting or telling someone they look lovely in that dress. (I am honest as a sales person. I could never tell someone they look good if they don't). Well, actually, now that I think about it - my creativity seems strongest when I'm not in a position to do anything; driving, putting the kids to bed, working, washing up.... Does that happen to you? And then when I get a small quiet moment, well the quiet happens in head and body and I don't have the urge to 'do'.

I have just put my name down to do a market stall in a little over a month's time; the last Friday in April. Oooh, what date is that? I have done this without having any stock to sell, yet endless ideas of things I can make, and sell (hopefully sell!). I feel that I will work best with a deadline. Hopefully I do, and not leave it right until the last week... urgh, don't let me do that.

Next weekend is Easter long weekend, so Sam will have extra days off work, and I won't be working at all. I am going to send him out, with the kids, each morning. And spend the time at home, cutting and sewing, and thinking, and planning. So, maybe over the next few weeks I will not be here very often, or maybe I'll have things to show you - excited and happy, asking for advice and help, and inspiration, and the continued support you have been giving me.

I have had some lovely comments over the past few weeks. If I have not yet replied to you, I have meant to, but things got in the way - I hope you understand. I hope also, that you know how much I appreciate all the lovely, friendly comments I receive. Thank you. If you have not yet commented on my 100th Post, please do - I am going to keep the giveaway open for a few more days.

And while I'm thanking people. I wanted to link to DJBebe for giving me a "You Make My Day" award, a little while ago. ::Thank you for the lovely flowers:: There are so many people who make my day - maybe another day I'll dedicate a whole post to my favourites, as there are too many to think about right now!

**All of these photos have nothing to do with this post. They are just a few that Ari has taken of me over the past few days. (With the exception of the one of me taking a photo of me in the mirror!). I go through many phases of liking the way I look. But these little snippets of me just doing stuff have lovely parts in them (and posing!). I like the "me" they portray, maybe because they are more a feel than solid images. The white top is one that I made from this pattern (changed a bit). I have plans for some more, as I like it so much - but Sam doesn't, maybe that's why it's taken me so long to get more made.....? I have a friend who had made herself a few dresses out of a similar pattern, which I, too, have been thinking about. There should be a few more photos over on flickr in the next few days, if my computer speeds up a bit.

Just some more rambling thoughts before I head off to bed. Good night.

my year of exhaustion

Having two children is so exhilarating :: exhausting, entertaining :: exhausting, enlivening :: exhausting, everlasting :: exhausting, educational :: exhausting, explorative :: exhausting, emotional :: exhausting. I have laughed more, cried more (with happiness), giggled more, told more stories, sung more songs, read more stories, made more meals, washed more clothes, cleaned up more (or cleaned up less - depending on what day you visit our house!). I have heard the best singing, the best concerts, watched the best dancing and twirling and hopping and yoga poses, seen the best paintings and drawings, tasted the best cooking, kissed the sweetest lips, hugged the softest bodies, heard the best secrets, had the best conversations*. Had the most intense ups and downs. And, the least sleep.

Mishi will be one in a week.

not a lot of time for these loves over this past year or so!

This has been my year of exhaustion. But, it has also been my year of learning and opening and growing and letting go and enjoying so much more - enjoying myself more, as well as those around me. Some days I drag myself around, but I know that all Mums and Dads just learn to live through the tiredness, and get used to it, to opperate on untapped reserves, each time thinking we have reached the bottom of these reserves yet finding more. I know that the having of the children themselves fill up these reserves, overflow every emotion, so exhaustion no longer feels so tired, it feels uplifting and generous and true true depth of love.

Regardless of all the wonderful topping-ups I receive from my babies, I am hoping that this has been my hardest year, my most exhausting year. I am saying goodbye to exhaustion. I am hoping that it does get :: will get easier and easier. (If any of you have contrary evidence, please don't pop my bubble just yet - though some advice on how to continue surviving on minimal sleep would be welcomed).

I would like to say a big thank you to all the beautiful comments I received for my last post. Your words were uplifting and heart-felt. The past few weeks for me have been a bit emotional and intense in a lot of ways - and I think I was feeling a bit lost and lonely. I do know that I have true friends :: lots of people I have known for so long and feel so close to, as well as lots of people who are new friends, who I am getting to know more. And, yes - that includes you Beautiful Blog Women. So, thank you for being my world-wide friends - to learn, share, laugh, help, love.

After I wrote that entry, about being 'friendless', I had a wonderful conversation with Ari. Make believe play that we both had children (me two boys, him two girls) and that we were visiting each other's houses, and picking our kids up from school, and making afternoon tea for each. Sometimes, so silly, I forget that I have the best of friends right here with me every day. And this week, I have visited two friends (play for the kids, talk for me), and I have another two such visits planned for the week. Hmmmm - I think in my life I get to a point of crying out about something, and then somehow it completes or materialises something.**

And - I smile with happiness when I announce that I have just been awarded with my first blog award. Thank you, Amy. I thought that I had finished all the 'E' (to go with exhausting), but I have been given the Excellence Award. I'm not sure how to put the little logo thing here, so look here to see it. To pass this on :: I know so many excellent blogs. Excellent for their writing, their photographs, their crafts, their dreams and aspirations, their openness and honesty, their recipes, stories...... Let me stick with these few. Momo (kurashi), Sarah (still life in yarn), Sarah (cloth.paper.string), Beth (write, mama. write).

*Some wonderful conversations with some wonderful mums. As well as some astounding words and conversations and stories with Ari and Ash, and soon enough Mishi.

**The days before I met Sam (my partner of almost ten years), I had been crying to my Mum of how I never seem to meet anyone, or be able to form any sort of relationship. She told me the words of wisdom she was good at telling :: that I would meet someone when it was right, to stop 'looking' and it would happen. And, of course she was right. I met Sam, who had lived next door to me for more than six months! And we both fell for each other straight away, and I have loved him since.

18th January, 1947 :: happy birthday Mummy Plummy

My Mum was the most influential, astounding woman (person) I will ever know. How can I say this, surely I will meet many more people in my lifetime. Yes, I hope, keep hoping and looking for someone to "replace" (not replace, add to my memories of a 'Mama-figure') the woman who gave me my life in every way possible.

Today you would be 61. I keep thinking how you would be as an "old woman" - not that 61 is anywhere near to old, but years and years from now, what would you be like. Five years ago, what were you like. Some days I barely remember your face, your voice, your laugh, but most of all your words. These are what I want to remember the most :: your words and intentions, the way that you challenged stereotypes and narrow-mindedness. The way you reached out and helped and offered your love, time, knowledge, warmth, kindness, whatever you could to assist someone else, anyone else. You were always helping people :: often times to the detriment of yourself, but that didn't stop you, did it Mum?

Sometimes when my son calls me Mum, I stop and think about you. Softly, slowly. Little things of who you were. Mainly of the fact that you will never meet these babies of ours on this Earthly plain. Though I know, and they know too, that you see them in their dreams. And that you know these little ones of mine so deeply and intimately and intensely :: you know who they were, who they are, who they will be.

I know that you know that of me too. You are such a wise woman, soul. Deep, warm, giving, sharing, knowing, feeling, being. Who you are :: were is so deeply ingrained in me that I know it does not matter if I don't remember your voice, words, smell every day or even every week. I remember, I know your being, your soul. I am you (of sorts).

So this year I will be with all the little babes. The two you met (though briefly) - Taliesin and Ashra, the one you knew about before you left us - Sidera, and the three you choose for us - Ari, Rollie and Mischa. Not with all my siblings, but with their offspring - and that is rich and loud and loving and intense in itself. We will have a party for you. Anouk and I will tell tales about you, stories and memories and wishes. We keep trying to show the Grandchildren who never really knew you, who you were, what you were.

And I will continue to remember that you will always smell of the warm, musky aroma of mothers-breast milk, to me. And that as you nurtured me, and your children, you taught me (us) to nurture my (our) children in the most natural, instinctual way a mother can. And that as a mother, I know you will be proud of me.

Happy Birthday. Cake and Champagne will be on the menu for sure.

wisdom of a three year old

The other day I overhead Ari talking to himself. He wasn't talking on the (pretend) phone, as he often does - conducting a great conversation through a wooden banana or one of our old mobile phones. (With the batteries taken out, they are an accessory that Ari enjoys!).

No, he was talking to himself - or possibly to one of the people he keeps telling me are in the room with us (or building our house, wearing pink clothes).

"Dear Ari, Accept (or was it except?) that you'll be older. When you're three. Mummy, I'm three aren't I?". I don't know what he was thinking or talking about. Really, mostly his mind wonders and scrambles so much quicker than mine, and his mouth manages to keep up! Anyone with a young child, who can string a few words together will know what I mean. This little boy who used to be so quiet as a baby and small toddler - well, he fills our world with noise. With words, stories, questions, questions, questions. He rattles off songs we've listened to, stories we've read, conversations he's overheard. Just yesterday he copied every single word I said while on the phone to someone, having to pay a bill (or pay off a layby!!), so I was telling them my credit card number.

Every moment I look at him, listen to him, spend time with him - he is growing and growing. Right now - despite the tantrums and whinging (which really isn't too bad anymore) - he is a very thoughtful, caring boy. Today, while we were waiting for new tyres on our car we went to a cafe. Whenever my glass of juice was empty he topped it up again for me, without spilling a drop. He kept offering me bites of his biscuit. This afternoon he wanted to put Mishi to sleep, telling her a story and patting her on the back. The lady at yoga-care said he had such lovely manners, and was nice to be with :: Well, I agree.

I especially love when he comes over to me, just while doing his things, leans against me and gives me a kiss. Sometimes on my leg or my shoulder, sometimes on my mouth. And he says "I love you in the whole world".

Thanks Ari for brightening up my days, for making me think about things differently, or again and again, for expecting me to be a wonderful Mother. For loving me for who I am. I love you in the whole world Baba. xx

happy birthday baby boy - 25 October

Well, my Darling, now you are three. You are 97cm tall. You weigh 14.6kgs. I love that this is a reference for something for you :: you use it when we play shops - icecreams cost 14 point six, and the books you set up and sell cost 14 point six. When you measure things with your tapemeasure they are generally 14.6, sometimes you just say things are centmeet.

Every single day I see you growing bigger, learning and discovering more. I can hardly keep up with you. I don't quite feel like I know enough to keep up with you. All day you ask me what things are, what words mean, why this, why that. Both Sam and I try the best we can to explain things to you, we tell you how things are, and don't make words up or use baby-talk. (You know all about Mummy's period :: and have told a few people too!).

Lately you have been singing and dancing a lot. You remember words of songs and stories really easily. Last week everywhere you went you sang "Wobble your Knees" and walked around shaking and knocking your knees. And you pick up and recite stories really well, already you know words from your new birthday books. Though you are still convinced that you can't read.

I'm sorry, Honey Bear, but we lost Bunny again a few weeks ago. This time, he has not come home. Yet, it seems to be a good time - if ever there really was. Bunny had become a wonderful friend for you, you called him such, so I wanted you to be able to have him always. You didn't need him, or rely on him for comfort so much anymore. You have taken the loss so well. Occasionally you have asked for Bunny, but have understood and almost accepted when we've told you that he's gone somewhere else. On the first day when I really explained his loss, you had a big cuddle and quiet-time. You also said that you didn't want Mishi, you wanted Bunny.

About Mishi :: you do love her. Last week you finally gave her a kiss goodnight, and when we were lying down for sleeping you were stroking her hair so softly. She looks to you, loving playing with you and following you - just the way you do with Ash (and the way Sylve did with me when we were kids!). I know right now it's hard for you, not wanting someone competing with the attention and time from your Mummy and Daddy. Soon, I know, Mishi will be a great friend for you.

I love spending time with you. Drawing, talking, walking, cooking, reading, playing cafes or shops, or building lego or mobilo, or painting. You are an excellent cook, measuring things out and cracking the eggs, turning the mixer on and off, pouring batter into muffin or cake tins. Last weekend you and Daddy made sushi for dinner, you stood up on your stool, helping, and eating seaweed.

We all still sleep in one big bed together. Mish's cot is joined to our bed on one side, and your little bed on the other side. I love having my whole family in one big bed. You wake up in the morning, happy for the day, you ask me "how was your sleeping Ellie?".

You are still my little baby. Sometimes I look at you, and remember you as a baby. My tiny little boy. Your face is growing leaner, and your body skinnier and taller. You have the same body shape as your Dad. I see a boy, a baby. My boy, my baby.

Giggle, laugh, learn, grow, experience, feel, see, hear, show, listen, tell, help, know. You show me how to do all this and so much more every day. Thank you, Honey Bear. xxx

a tale of a nap and a sleep-over

Ari had a sleep-over at Sylve + Ashey's last night, and we didn't pick him up until 5.30 this afternoon. Sam went to work today - one more of the perks of retail is working on Sundays! And Mishi had a decent sleep for an hour or so. What this means is :: I had some time all on my own at home. This is very rare for me, actually more than rare, practically extinct. I think that last time was possibly before Mish was born, or the few minutes when Sam walks to the corner store with both kids to buy milk. Believe me :: today was glorious.

I had some time to make a coffee, make bread, clean the kitchen (well, no - I didn't finish all the washing up, okay Sam I'm admitting it!). And the, I had time to photograph some of the beautiful fabrics that I recently purchased and are urging and calling me to make things with them. And of course the book that is giving me such creative inspiration. I promise I won't talk about this book all week, but it really has pushed me to do some really great sewing. A lot of the projects are simple and easy and achievable - that's what I really like about it. Things I can do, could have done without the book :: but things that I haven't done, the book has showed me the tips and simplified and prompted me and inspired me.

I finished two aprons today - well one last night and one today while Mish slept. I can't show either of them yet as they are gifts for dear sweet little girls. So, in a few weeks I'll be able to show you my handiwork. Let me just say, that I am so super-duper happy with the results. Proving to me again that I can actually sew. And that if I follow the rules from Amy - and know when to break them - then the results are better and better.

I also finally photographed the adorable clothing that a very dear and special friend posted to Mish a few weeks ago. She also sent some lovely wooden toys for Ari, but currently they are scattered throughout the house and car :: A great wooden egg shaker, a bright yellow spinning top, but unfortunately the toy drum was confiscated by customs on the trip over from the UK. The clothes are too big for Mish, which means I get to spend the next year(s) looking at them - that sop especially is so so so beautiful, almost exactly like one I want to try and make for myself.

So, this is my inspiration for today. A lot of sewing and girly fabrics. A lot of ideas and thoughts and wishes and hopes for near future plans.

An amazing more than two hour phone conversation with my big sister was a wonderful close to today. With everyone in bed in both our houses we talked about so much stuff, agreeing and wishing we lived closer so we could have conversed across a table, cups of tea in hands.

And finally, the fingernail moon we watched in the early evening sky. The fading and darkening to deep dark blue with the glowing slither of light.

Of course, a day at home all alone with my little girl was the most inspirational of all. She played happily on her own, ate lunch with me - well, spread rice all over the floor - giggled and chatted and crawled and pulled herself trying to walk. Each day I see a little more of the woman she may become, each day I feel excited about the relationship we have now and in our future. I had such a strong closeness with my Mum, and still have a deep respect and love for her, that I know good things are in store for us. Mish and me.

doing, making, baking, dancing, being

Big Ted was allowed to have icecream and biscuit at dinner time, while Ari had to eat his dinner. Felt food that I've been enjoying sewing lately.

We've been in :: out :: round-a-bout :: up :: down :: turn-a-round of late. Lots of things, and not much happening all at once. Seems like every day going out, visiting, playing at the park, yoga, meeting friends, driving (did I mention that I finally got my licence a few weeks ago.. Yes finally, I'm 29 and can now drive all on my own!). All this constantness has been good and bad.

Good, in terms of the kids seem to be getting a bit crazy and bored at home lately. Our back room is still in mess-mode from kitchen reno stuff :: paint, wood, junk, old oven, etc... So not a heap of space for crafting and that sort of thing. We have been making do in other ways, some not as successful as others. We've discovered some lovely new parks and had fun with friends, and done a good deal of driving and learning how to try and be quiet for Mama in the car. Good that we can be out in the lovely weather, pushing our toes into dirt, swinging on swings, having Mama's full attention while on our little outings.

Bad in the sense that nothing has been getting done at home lately. Washing piling up, mess attracting more mess. Also that general tiredness that happens to us all when we are out so much. Sometimes it really is wonderful just to be at home and not have to :: want to go and be somewhere else. Its good just to sit and talk, talk, talk. Have our own space, things, noise. Not feel as if we are encroaching on someone else, or that they are taking our airspace, play-space, good spot in the shady grass.

We've been making bread lately. A few batches. Finally I have a new good oven A real oven. Previous to this we've either had gas ovens or a convection/microwave thing my Grandma gave us second-hand. I love my new oven, even though I'm still learning how best it works. So far our baking has been quite successful.

Baking bread, the kneading especially always reminds me of my Mum. She used to make wonderful bread, pungent aroma, soft, fluffy, so tasty buttered warm. I have such warm thoughts of her strong arms and hands pushing and pulling the dough into the rams head shape. I love doing this when I make bread. I never mix it by machine, and don't have a bread maker machine to bake it in. This is one thing that I feel I always want to be able to feel and be a part of all the processes.

It has been a bit hard to achieve things as of late. Mish won't sit on her own for long at all. I hope its just a little 'phase' she's going through, but she cries and cries or moans to be picked up. And not by anyone but Mama. She's teething and I'm hoping that this is the primary reason for this little bit of needing cuddles and more attention. She has just started calling "Meh ma-mam". I love those first real "words", evolving from necessity. Along with teething and talking, she has finally started with real dedication to learn to crawl. A few little knee moves while up on all fours, and pulling herself reaching out for something. Previous to this she has been doing the backwards slide. Downward dog is a great little pose she's showing a lot of. Yet, thoughout all this, her smiles are getting bigger, her laughing so cheerful and directed.

Rock Around the Clock tonight. "Mummy look at what time it is".

Ari too, has been quite trying of late. The cheekiness has crept up on us over the past few months. And our little kid, who was such a sweet natured and quiet boy, is showing us more and more of his determination and willful side. I am trying every day to give him more and more leniency and learn how to not yell - I mean, it's no use as he doesn't listen to yelling any more or less than he listens to quiet talk. I think, hope that I'll work out better ways of being with him through this stage of asserting himself.

Dancing round and round.

One little thing I've found, apart from trips to the park or shop or friends, is listening to music. We've had Hullabaloo on repeat for the last few days. And all three of us have danced and jumped and sung and laughed around the kitchen. Such simple ways of enjoying ourselves, and being together and having easier days.

the swing of things

Lately life has been very draining - physically. Emotionally, it has been rewarding, fulfilling, exciting. So, I suppose the see-saw scales is okay - as long as we keep a fairly steady balance somewhere.

I do, though, feel some nights, as if I have been drained of everything. I cannot drag myself to clean or wash or sew or think or write. I cannot sometimes drag myself even to bed. Yet, still I have energy from the love and laughs of the day. I mentioned to my mother-in-law today that Mishi doesn't sleep for longer than half an hour at a time, during the day :: she asked me how I do it. Hmmmm. I'm not actually sure how. But, you know cause you do it too. Just keep on doing it.

Well, I do it because of the simple and unexpected kisses that Ari gives me during the day. He just leans over and puckers up for a little kiss. His soft lips on mine - yes, sometimes his lips are stick and covered in food - but does that matter. Never, ever, ever. I love that he has that moment of love welling up inside him and just listens and lets it take over, and that he acts on it.

He used to ask us why we were smiling at him - when we said cause we loved him, he didn't quite understand in a way to actualise that love. Now he does. And even though he doesn't want to give Mishi kisses goodnight, I see the love he has for her numerous times throughout the day.

Both the little ones seem to be coming to phases of extreme change and growth. Mishi, now 7 months is not yet crawling, but is involving and entertaining and showing more and more of her own personality every day. Possibly she won't crawl, but seems to want to go straight to walking. And Ari, who will be 3 in only 6 or so weeks, gives us a new word every day, a new dance or phrase or look or ........ He discovers and observes and anticipates and understands.

Such a true pleasure for me to share my days with these little marvels. The love, tenderness, sweetness of my life because of those two beings.

Lately we have been going out almost every day. Did I mention that I finally have my licence? Well, yes, now I can drive where ever and whenever. So, we have been doing things and finding places and visiting and exploring.

Just a few photos of our days over the past few weeks.

I feel :: hope finally to catch up, feel more on top of things sometime soon. The kitchen is currently being painted, sanding only just been finished. Soon, we will get back into the swing of things (well, the swing of something anyway :: or the see-saw :: the slide :: the ........)

home again, home again, jiggity jig

We've been staying at Sam's parents' house for the past week. Well, actually - we've been back home now for three nights. But, anyway, lets not be too exact and pedantic.

My Dad is building us a new kitchen. So, so, so exciting and wonderful and lovely and... so overdue. I will post photos when it's finished. We're allowed back home now, as we have running water and gas back again. (After the plumber was two hours late on Friday, worked for half an hour, and had to come back Monday to actually do any work. And then, charge us more than $600 for the privilege).

Being away made me realise that I love my little home so much. As a house it's not really that much. No pretty Queenslander for us, no verandas or patios or great outdoor spaces to be in, no well maintained garden (just a muddy hilly patch of "stuff" with a bit of plant life, that goes through stages of being loved and then neglected). No separate lounge, dining, guest room, nursery, play room, art/craft/discovery room for us. Just a small two bedroom, (possibly -I'm making this up, with absolute assurity that I know this to be the truth) post-50's style boxy house. But, it's my home - and I've remembered that I really do love it.

I love whats in it. My things, and our things, and the feeling of being in. The peace, the tranquility (now I'm actually stretching the truth. As I live across the road from a train-line, next door to some very noisy people, and in a house with two small people - who can make more noise than the sum of their sizes). Our home is almost always messy, or at least a neat shambles, dusty, cluttered. But, our things mean something to me. Our things are us.

Sam and I have a particular "decorating style" that just evolves and happens. Often, from adding, adding, adding and occasionally removing, but more like putting somewhere else. All the dead/dying plant life and seedpods that Ari and I have been collecting over the past weeks are spilling from vases and scattered in plates and dishes on bookshelves and windowsills. Photos are tacked to walls or leaning on shelves. "Things" - of which we have MANY - are arranged and displayed.

And while I am so very grateful to my parents-in-law for being wonderful, generous grandparents and parents - I am so glad to be back home.

Being back home means sleeping in one's own bed. Even if that bed is shared with the three dear loves of my life. But, I so love listening to my babes sleeping. I love feeling their warm bodies and hearing their soft snores. Almost touching their dreams - though, I know, I know - never can I touch the dreams of a child. For childrens' dreams are magical in a way we forget and rarely regain in adulthood.

Reasons I love listening to them sleep:

not most importantly, but firstly, the fact that they are actually asleep and I have a small moments' peace and quiet;

they are so soft, quiet, innocent in ways different than during the day;

I can sometimes see the person who they may grow up to be. I (imagine that I) see the face of what in the world they might be (lyrics from something that I can't quite remember at the moment... hmmm? Joni Mitchell?);

the sweet, warm breath of a sleeping child;

..... many more reasons, that right now seem to be slipping away from forming into words.

One thing about sleeping children - babies need nappy changes and topping up with breastmilk, toddlers need wees and hugs to fend of bad dreams.

So, no photos or links tonight. Simply a few words. As my two little ones are good at playing tag - with me chasing them constantly. They play in their sleep as effortlessly as in the day :: Mishi milking, Ari waking bolt upright and wanting to be "out of the bed", then laying down fast asleep again.

Good night. Good to be home again.

PS - in case anyone was at all curious or slightly worried :: Bunny came home. The lovely bus driver lady sent him to lost property where he got an excellent little luggage tag and overnight stay in the city. Unfortunately he didn't have a bath while on holiday!

Lost, Stolen or Strayed

King John put up a notice,"LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED! JAMES JAMES MORRISON'S MOTHER SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID. LAST SEEN WANDERING VAGUELY:QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD, SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN TO THE END OF THE TOWN -FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!" James James Morrison Morrison Weatherby George DuPree

Bunny is missing! Yesterday when we got off the bus in the pouring rain, somehow Bunny didn't come with us. I'm hoping and hoping that he's going to be in the lost property collection.

I haven't told Ari yet, though he has been asking and asking for Bunny. We just keep putting him off. I feel so anxious, my tummy turned into knots. This is my little boy's special friend. He sleeps with him, eats dinner together, plays hide-n-seek, keeps him company when Ari is tired or grumpy or sad.

When Bunny first came into our lives, when Ari was only a few months old, I wasn't too fussed either way on this funny little blanket with a bunny head stitched in the centre of it. But, Ari became attached and has carried Bunny everywhere with him since. The little creature has suckled ears and paws, his head fell off at one stage, his ears are threadbare, he's grey rather than white. But, he's loved, so so loved. And he really is a part of Ari's daily life.

Ari always talks about him not being real, but he includes him into the rituals that he's learning. Bunny learnt to toilet train, Bunny has breast milk (mine or Ari's, he's not fussy), he has day-time naps, eats veges + fruit, gets in trouble for doing cheeky things. Lately Ari has been blaming Bunny for a few things - using his little paws to do the dirty work.

I love Bunny. I love the way Ari loves him. I have fed, bathed, clothed this creature (yes, nappies on the blanket body are difficult - but we still tried).

I remember him being on the bus seat curled in Ari's hand. Ari asleep on the seat beside me, Mishi asleep in the sling. Raining raining. The bus driver carried Ari off the bus for me and put him the the pram. I don't remember seeing or not seeing Bunny in Ari's sleeping hand. I was too concerned with covering two sleepy creatures before the rain soaked us all. Isn't is sometimes so annoying (sometimes it is wonderful), the way you see things and just file them away somewhere in your brain. At the time you don't think too much about it, but later its clear and so important. You remember it perfectly - like you remember Bunny not coming off the bus!

Sam and his Dad went out at 9pm last night in the rain searching between the bus stop and the front door. Again this morning Sam rode his bike looking in the drains, curbs - did Bunny wash down the gushing gutters to the ocean.....

Lost, Stolen or Strayed..... Please come home Bunny.

If Bunny is actually lost, please tell me - help me - what will I do to console my little one? Does anyone have any ideas, hints, thoughts on what would be the best thing to do, the best way to break the news. Should I let him choose another baby to have, or make him another something (similar), or should we have a little farewell party (a funeral?) for Bunny. And say, well Ari's almost three and doesn't need a little friend. I don't think I want to do this, I always wanted to let him be ready to give up Bunny - and if he never did, then that is not an issue for me at all.

pop pop pop

Poor little Mishi has chicken pox! She's been quite good about it - not too much complaining. Though we did have a *very* sleepless night last night. (Surprisingly I feel much better today on less sleep, than I felt yesterday on slightly more sleep). Amazingly, Mish didn't get any pox on her face - so we haven't had to worry about scratching and scarring. I am hoping that the fact she's had it mildly doesn't mean she can get it again. So far Ari still hasn't caught it - that means he's escaped it three times :: 1 - the friend who Ash caught it from. 2 - from Ash, even though they were spending lots of time together during Ash's contagious period. 3 - from Mish ::

So, after little-to-no sleep last night, I woke up at 6.15am feeling quite energised! And, therefore, we had a lovely day today just hanging around. We discovered a new cafe while out for our walk. Okay, not quite "discovered" - I knew it was there, we'd just never made it in to have a look. Was really quite lovely - the babycino was free -and it had a marshmallow (very important for Ari), yummy little biscuits for only $1, great tables, comfy chairs, friendly staff.... what more can we ask for out of a cafe within easy walking distance from home?! They had cute little cactus in pots as their table decorations - the man at the table near us must have thought me a bit weird photographing our coffee cups.

I love our little walks. Often we end up needing to go somewhere, but we take our time looking and exploring. We do live in a major city, in a suburb walking distance from the CBD - but we still have lots to explore and look at. It is totally different from where I grew up, in the country. But, it's not too bad. There are still flowers to pick, seedpods to collect, birds to listen to, bushes to hide in, parks to run in. So, each time we go out for our walks - we take our time meandering the streets.

Today we planted some seeds. Alright, not actually planted - but put in some torn up cotton wool, in a plastic container on the windowsill. I want Ari to be able to spray them everyday with his little water sprayer, and watch the seeds grow. I'm sure it will be a bit boring for a 2 1/2yr old, but little alfalfa seeds don't take too long to grow. I'm going to try and show you every day what they look like. Are you excited.....? (please pretend to be - just humour me).

So, that's just a little bit of catching up for the moment. My brain has started shutting down. I've been tired, sickish, rundown, low on energy - is this what its meant to feel like :: this having kids thing?

slowing happily

I've had such simple and full :: busy last few days, that I've been early to bed, with little-to-no "impunta"* time. Mishi's daytime naps mean that Ari + I spend time chatting and playing and cleaning together. I actually really look forward to her having long naps some days so we can have time together just being. More and more, Ari seems so grown up, having conversations and observations beyond his 2 1/2 years:: it's so wonderful, and how I hope my relationships with all (I aim :: wish for more than two) my babes continues until forever.Yet, also, I love the moments when Ari sleeps or is with his Dad. And Mish + I have time to sing to each other. We goo and coo together, giggling and smiling. I remember reading somewhere (possibly here) that studies have shown mothers and young babies talk in the same pitch :: frequency to each other.

These last few weeks of being at home and only going out for little walks around the neighbourhood, have felt so nurturing. I'm learning more every day to enjoy those moments when life just happens. To totally involve myself in the experiences of being with my little ones who I adore so much.

This may sound simple for some (most) mothers - and, yes, I always thought it would be for me. With Ari it was. I felt so in 'control' and knowing what I was feeling, doing, being. I felt like we were a wonderful partnership and I didn't need to think about what to do, how to do it. We just happened, and happened good. He was an easy baby, I was a good mum.

Still - I know that I am a "good mum". And both my babes are actually very "easy" little ones. (It is funny when people say how good a baby is, as if the alternative is "bad"). Well, I feel that this time around it took me longer to remember the things I felt so innate, intuitive with Ari. I felt tired, slow, not sure of so many things with Mishi.

I guess I'm slowly, quietly thinking about the fact that I "think" I had postnatal depression with Mischa. I know I only felt it in a minor way - yet, still I know that it affected my early months with being at home with a new baby and young child.

What I'm saying now - is that I feel quite totally over this. And now, I am enjoying the *honeymoon* period of having a glorious beautiful baby girl. I am glowing, singing, laughing, playing, dancing with my sweet, dear treasures.

On other notes - I am adding to, not crossing off items on my list. I think, possibly this isn't really such a terrible thing, as I have been spending precious enjoyment with my babes, instead of "doing stuff". Kids don't care about stuff, do they. Ari just wants me to play with him, and Mishi just wants me to look at her. They both want me to play peek-a-boo, to tickle, to hide under the doona with them, to dance around the lounge room, to play drums in the backyard, squirt water, paint, sing, laugh, look at flowers, and give + receive wonderful squeezey bear::bunny::elephant hugs.

~List~

added to list-

:: make curtains for lounge room doorways

completed from list-

::door snake completed - YAH

::Ashey's frog sewn + delivered (a lovely walk to visit Sylve+Ash)

::I have been doing more drawing with Ari lately. Liberated drawing, not thinking about the results - just enjoying the moment of running a pencil across the paper.

*"impunta" is Ari's word for computer. Mine + Sylve's is "puty". Ashey's is "comp-prunter".

PS - these photos are film, have only just been developed and are quite old. Both babes are now much bigger than this!

learning to juggle

It's quite a skill :: an art, this juggling thing. I'm slowly, slowly getting better at it. Realising that it takes dedicated practice, as well as skill, humour, motivation + a lot of hard work makes it easier to appreciate the balls synchronising. Rising and falling gracefully. It doesn't happen like that as often as I'd like, but when it does - well, it feels good.

Of course, I'm not running away to join the circus :: we are the circus. My babes are the clowns, the lions, the trapeze rope for me to walk. Mostly they are the coloured balls for me to learn to juggle.

My sister (who has one five year old) asked me the other day how I do it with two kids. She was holding Mish on her hip, trying to put Ari's shoes on, and we were trying to get out the door. Well, sometimes I don't do it very well, but it just keeps happening, so the juggling gets a little smoother each day. Some days all the balls fall and roll under the seats :: I have to crawl around picking up all the pieces.

The days when I just be with the babes, in the moment with them, instead of having all these expectations or thoughts about what I want to get done that day. Well, the simpler days are just that - simpler. We have more fun, less hassles, less whinging :: yelling :: grumpiness. Those are the days when the balls are bright rainbows swinging arcs through the air. Those are the days I love. And, juggling is about having fun - you just do the ::hard:: practice to get to the fun part. Same, really as having my babes. I just want to be with them, and have the fun - and let the pther parts just be happening in the background. Each day, I suppose I get a little closer to this aim of learning to just be with them.

The most fun and giggles we've had in the past weeks has been doing the little things that just happen. Making the beds, we play Lanternfish in caves. Hiding under the doona and whispering, with two little ones who giggle and laugh at the silliness of it. Peek-a-boo is a new game for Mishi and still a favourite for Ari - watching them both interact in this simplest of games is such a pleasure.

Spray bottles (only about $1.49 from the supermarket) filled with water and food dye make great painting. We pegged paper onto the little line, and have spent the last few days making masterpieces and lots of water fireworks spraying into the air.

And setting up our own little band in the backyard, with plastic spoons, cardboard tubes.

This post was finally published 7th January, 2008. Of course I still can't juggle. In fact, I think each day I add more balls or flying knives, and include jumps and other tricks into the performance as well. I'm sure it's me, not the little ones who complicate it all so much!

anatomy of a day

We've been in a bit of self-imposed isolation::hibernation for the last three days. After being away for three::four days at my Grandmas, I needed to just be at home quietly for a bit with the babes. Well, not quietly as such, but slowly :: softly :: calmly :: or trying anyway. We've had a bit of whinging and yelling and then lots and lots of cuddles. Ari saying don't yell at me :: me saying don't whinge at me - I know, I know ~ I'm the adult I should know better. Well, sometimes I really want him to know better. But its also been lovely to just be slow, and not have too many expectations of our day :: time.

We made grapefruit + lemon icecream, inspired mainly by Stefani's scrumptious looking mint icecream. Our freezer seems (that's me being optimistic!) broken - so it didn't actually freeze properly. Not creamy and smooth :: but utterly delicious none the less. And, actually, I like icecream in Winter. Ari + I sat on his little wooden chairs on the back landing bit and soaked up the sun eating our icecream slushie.

I've been sewing, trying to finish little things for my nephew who turned one today. Well, I didn't get it finished + posted in time - but I know that's okay. It will (hopefully) be loved when it arrives, that the lateness is forgotten. I love having the birthday being extended into a week or more. One day a year is simply not enough is it?!

I've just this week started a little extra bed-time story routine with Ari, which he seems to like. Normally Sam (or I) reads stories on the couch (as Mishi is asleep in the room we all share), then Ari + I hop into bed and I sing songs, stroke his head, whisper, tell stories and ultimately just sit quietly :: depending on how tired he is, how long it takes for him to drift off to sleep. This week I've started talking more about my Mum. Just little snippets of things I remember at that time :: nothing has continuity and it doesn't matter what I talk about. I think that I'm going to keep doing it for a long time. I really enjoy it, and I guess Ari does too - as he kept asking me to continue the story about Michele. (He doesn't very often call her Grandma Michele, as he never knew her on this Earthly plain).

My family doesn't talk about my Mum very much. I wonder how long it will be until we feel the rawness of her death ease off, and feel that we can talk happily about her - without bringing up sadness for each other. I miss not talking to her, because she always had an answer - or knew how to help me come to an answer myself. My Mum was the bestest Mother, my dear friend, my "spiritual teacher", my.... We were - still are - so lucky to have had her in our lives. She guided me to be the woman and mother I am.

So, talking about her with Ari - in a darkened room where I can have the thoughts and memories of her to share with my babes - has a clarity and contentment that I feel deeply.

Today we ventured out down the street, to meet Sylve + Ash at a coffee shop. Ash is all spotty from his chicken pox. I so miss them both when we don't see them for a few days. I love that we live such a short walking distance away, that our boys are so close in age and they love each other like brothers, that we Mums both love both boys as our own sons, and very importantly :: that Sylve + I love each other eternally, unconditionally :: like bestest friends, sisters..... We know each other so well, but also, we are so similar in so many wonderful ways.

The only photos I've taken this week were on my Ricoh (film) camera. I don't suppose I'll be seeing them for a while - as we don't very often get out to the photo shop. I've been trying to take photos of the trees out the front door, in the golden Winter afternoon light - but the digital camera gets so fussy about having low-light. Yet, that is really one of the lighting conditions I love shooting in. So, I suppose I'll have to use my beloved camera more often. The firm click of taking a photo is so satisfying and final.

So, now that its super late at night and I feel exhausted and sick - I should probably go to bed. Yet, the exhaustion I feel isn't going to be freshened or replenished by a nights sleep. Its the exhaustion of a Mother with two little children and very little spare time. Or simply - the exhaustion of a Mother :: Full stop::

leaf walks

We've been collecting little bits of craft stuff for Ari. ::coloured cardboard :: bubble wrap :: boxes :: egg cartons :: fabric scraps :: and the other day we walked down the street to gather up some of these beautiful leaves. Ari didn't want any photos of himself, so just lots of the glorious colours and shapes of the maple tree. We don't see lots and lots of these in Australia, especially not the city, but have one large tree down our street. When the leaves turn every year from their green through to goldens, reds, browns it reminds me of the trees my (childhood) piano teacher had all along her driveway. I hardly notice the tree throughout Summer, as all the greens just meld and blend together. (Also, the tree is at a corner, where you concentrate on looking down the road :: towards our home).

We had a wonderful time gluing the leaves + fabrics + paper scraps. And the seedpods - round little puffs, spiky funny looking things - are currently congregating on a little blue patterned tray I bought on sale years and years ago.

I've been away for a few days at my Grandmas house, and coming home this afternoon I noticed that almost all the leaves have fallen off the tree. Now its silver trunk is shining bare and beautifully naked. Its a glorious thing - seeing the empty branches of a sculptural tree.

It really was lovely coming home this afternoon :: being away for three nights with a baby and young one + my sister and her son + my Grandmas small house = ::a long holiday:: We slept on the lounge room floor, and I'll tell you - the sunrise every morning over the ocean was quite spectacular (but sorry, I wasn't quite up to taking photos - after having to change nappies + baby clothes + kids clothes at 4.30am).

While away we had a fun + loving + family day with my other sister, Anouk + her two babes + also my Dad. So, there was :: me, Ari, Mishi, Sylve, Ash, Anouk, Sidi, Rollie + Dad :: pity my brother couldn't have been there too - but he doesn't have the luxury of being a primary carer for his son - instead he works five days a week. We had lunch and birthday cake, and stories and photos and talking and walking around in the "country" (well, Mish + I slept - they walked).

I know for sure that one of the greatest things about having my babes is that my sisters have their babes similar ages and we spend a lot more time together. We have all (+ do currently) worked part-time jobs over the last few years since having children - but we seem to spend a lot of time together enjoying our sisterly relationship + being with all the children.

I know that the Dads miss out on so much not being able to be part of their baby's lives so much. And while it is often/sometimes really difficult being at home with kids, I would never change it - and I never (well, okay some times) feel envious that Sam has to go to work, while I stay at home with Ari + Mishi.

I thank my sisters for this experience of being able to learn and know them more, better, different. Its special watching them be mums and being included in their relationships with their babes. And having their feedback for my own mothering. We are all quite similar in our mothering styles - and that is due so much to our own mother. For me to say she was the best mother is a bit cliche + also an understatement. I know that all my siblings feel this way + my Dad also - that my Mum was one of the more amazing, beautiful, wise, insightful, caring, unique, inspirational woman we will ever know. Its very hard for me to put into writing how I feel about her - also, how I remember her! After more than four years that immediateness of who she was isn't so clear and easy to define.