A baby on the way (not mine)

There is something about the anticipation of a birth that I find utterly thrilling. The miracle, the mystery, the longing, even the anxiety that hold an ancient drawing. An excitement even in its mention. Perhaps in part it is an excitement founded in my own experience. The changing that happened in birthing for me. Perhaps it is the connectedness that women find in the life event of giving birth... Maybe it is just where my heart is at this time. Whatever its cause I feel good and alive and strong. What a privilege being a Doula

Traveling with four - stories and more

I’m standing in our cold Randwick kitchen boiling the kettle for a late night hot drink.  The bedrooms are quiet.  ‘The Churros in Barcelona are amazing I reminisce absentmindedly to husband’.  He smiles.    It has only been two weeks since our return and despite the memories still being strong it feels like a lifetime ago already. 

Before embarking on our 5 week trip with our four children who are 7, 5, 3 and almost 1 year old I read many things, it feels right. First I search for blogs, then packing checklists, things to do with children, famous playgrounds, I googled it all.  Surprisingly there aren’t a huge number of people travelling with four small children, three of whom are preschool age. Even less people are writing about it.

In reality the ratio of unplanned events on this holiday were far higher than those I organised based on my research. It was in essence the unprompted acts of kindness and the plethora of unpredictably serendipitous moments that made our journey what it was – a crazy, eventful, delicious and at times insanely stressful adventure. 

There are so many things I want to be able to say to somehow cajole those teetering on the brink of the decision to travel with small children. While talking about Rome, Barcelona, The Andalucía coast, Lisbon or Bintan Island may be impressive (or make you question our sanity) it feels a poor attempt at sharing the essence of the holiday that was the catalyst the change, love, growth, awe and excitement I saw every day in each little face that we dragged on ridiculous numbers of planes around silly numbers of countries.  Five weeks away from home with family exploring outside our world is good for the soul.

Just like a recipe (for life)

It's a small white table, pre loved... With two wooden chairs tucked neatly under. Tonight it is the homework table. Some nights it is a dinner table. It is a place miss Seven likes to sit. She is not happy right now though. We have tried for some minutes to come to a shared understanding of her homework question. We have failed. I stop, we are silent, I can see she is tired and now increasingly frustrated. So much like me at times it is heartbreaking to watch. I think hard and in a moment of clarity I say lets read it like a recipe and step by step the question is answered beautifully. I tell miss seven that I am so proud that she persisted past her frustration to understanding. I tell myself the same.

Time with my (big) man

I am eager for tomorrow, it is my second 'special' day with my boy...

We decided a while back that the kids could do with some extra individual Mummy time. Presented with this realisation we set about working on the logistics. Wednesday is Master four's day.

We still have 'the baby' but its not all about him on our day. Last week we spoilt ourselves with a hot chocolate all to ones self and then a bike ride unencumbered by cries of 'my legs can't walk and I tired'. The whole day was a treat... So we have been quietly exchanging knowing looks waiting for our next adventure which at present involves a trip to an infamous indoor play centre. the thought of it fills me both with love (for the squeals of joy it will produce) and terror (about the inevitably high volume of similarly squealing children in one poorly sound proofed space).

Handprints to remember

It's silent and I know that I will be weary in the morning but some times it just takes time to wind down... Time, such a commodity. Today was an emotional day. We swam, as we do on a Saturday. Miss three had a her first lesson last week. This week after a moment of contemplation she happily slid into the water to her very fabulous teacher, on her own without any request for me to accompany her. I was full of pride for my little lady and her thirst for life.

Then drawn by the warmth of the sun and my depth of belief in the cause we headed to the Cancer Council fundraiser Relay for Life in Centennial Park. And while the kids bounced on the jumping castle and collected show bags from the police stall we chatted and shared food with friends to remember the loved ones that had been lost from among us. My loss is not new, like my friend's. Still as the kids dipped their hands in paint one by one and carefully placed them on the canvas of remembrance something stirred in me. My voice was shaky as I asked if I could do a print of Hubba bubba's hand. I quietly willed my mum to watch and enjoy the moment.

As we drove home I told husband that the thing I find hardest is that the kids will not have memories of their Grandma Inara. They will know about her, feel the tenderness in my telling of her but she will not be a physical person in their growing lives.

This was the meaning I made of the tears I cried. And they caused me to hold the kids one by one purposefully tonight and hug husband just a moment longer than normal.

Words

Miss Seven had to complete a writing exercise titled noun groups where she had to use two adjectives that matched a noun.  It made me think about words to describe my goals for our home and our family for the future (I know a slight leap but are you surprised?) 

Honest
Inclusive
Nurturing
Welcoming
Corageous
Extravagant (not to be confused with wasteful)
Safe
Comfortable (not to be confused with complacent)
Active
Creative and....
Engaging 

Just some descriptives

The back step

I am sitting on our back step... A sanctuary I adopt in the cooler months. The sun is flooding past the neighbours roof and warming my soul. There is a vast discrepancy between the temperature in the house and the one outside. With the sun comes waves of gratefulness. I have not written a lot lately which is unwise for me as writing is my catalyst for reflection, for dreaming, for change and for positivity. So today I am back and I am thankful.