Easter Tree

The Easter tree is up. It looks really pretty this year, filling up with new bits and pieces. The kids have taken a decoration into school for news, to show and tell about a different Easter tradition that their relatives on the other side of the world embrace.

The Lost tooth

Today the Rooster lost his first tooth. At school. It hurt a little when he ran to tell me and handed a little tissue wrapped package over. Along with all the other parts of his day that I miss witnessing, today I added milestone to that list. I drove home thinking about the post I would write tonight documenting the loss of his first tooth. I remembered one of my favourite photos of Luca and knew that I would include it. I had most of the post composed in my head by the time I got to the park this afternoon.

However, the story of that lost tooth changes here. At the park, one of the kids needed a tissue. I found a clean one in the bottom of my bag, along with a whole bunch of other half used, balled up discarded ones. I began systematically cleaning out my bag, pocket by pocket, thinking to myself, man there was a lot of crap in there. I put the debris into an empty biscuit packet and thoughtlessly tossed it into the rubbish bin when we got up to leave.

When I got to the car I gasped. OMG!!!! The tooth was in one of those balled up, discarded tissues. The blood left my face as I raced to the bin, squeezed my head under the little roof that public bins have and with a huge breath, I threw my head into the bin opening. There it was. The biscuit packet. ALL THE WAY AT THE BOTTOM OF THE BIN. There was no way to reach it. The Rooster was hysterical, more I think, because of the whole tooth fairy deal and I was distressed, as I had yet to clap my eyes on the little peg.

I dangled Luca in but his little arms were not long enough. We found a coat hanger but that didn't work. I admitted defeat, convinced the Rooster that the tooth fairy would accept a letter of apology about the lost tooth and belted up to go home.

It was then that we noticed the umbrellas poking out from under the seat and dashed back out to try again. Two attempts and we had success (the first saw my son dangling once again head first into a council bin). The tooth is safely tucked into his tooth envelope and ensconced under his pillow to wait for the magic.

I misplace my keys on most days. I struggle to keep my phone charged. Once a week my purse and I get separated, but when it comes to the Mumma things, I don't drop the ball. I am on it. To lose that tooth... I don't think I would ever live that one down.

We like a good story here in this family for the big things that happen in our lives. We love the retelling and the embellishments as it is told and retold again. Losing your first tooth at school without Mum, before recess, was not enough. It needed a good story with a happy ending. Something to really remember. Something to tell his kids about when they lose their first teeth.

Oh, and here is that really cute photo I was thinking about way back in the beginning of this tale.

Note for later. That tooth he lost was the first that he got. Front left.

It would be remiss of me not to post Ellie's Ballerina High Tea. Oh my, the pink! In all shades from fairy floss to hot pink (and of course it's derivative purple), the cult of pink was very apparent. I have tried so very hard to avoid the influx of this hue into our lives, but I admit defeat.

It is indeed innate, this desire and love of all things rosy. My resistance has been to no avail and after all the red and green and navy and yellow, what I have is a 3 year old who loves pink.

I have a sense that the princess phenomena is on it's way but for now my girl lovingly puts her bubbas to bed and will potter endlessly within the walls of her sweet doll's house.

Can I bottle this sweet phase and release it when I have a cranky hormonal teenage girl?

From little things big things grow

March 2008

February 2011

I always knew that this babe of mine would be born on Valentines Day. A Valentine cynic, I had bah-humbugged this day since I was a girl. Now our day is consumed with her celebrations and there is little time to think about ourselves and what this day might mean if we didn't have a child born today.

For our first Valentines, Tools posted me an enormous banner with the words "Joy of my Joyfulness". I have it stashed in a box somewhere in our roof. I sometimes think I should dig it out, along with all those other mementos tucked away and long forgotten. However, I don't need to look far to evoke that memory.

This girl is the joy of our joyfulness. She is kind and thinks of others before herself. She is generous and loyal. Confident and yet very shy. Missy wants to be a ballerina when she grows up. She is a best friend to her brother, the Lola to his Charlie and we often think how lucky he is to have a pal like her. She is the greatest companion to her peers and her elders.

Her chatter and inquisitiveness exhaust me but I will never yearn for quiet. Her day runs at high speed, always engrossed in whatever has captured her imagination. She paints and draws and loves to listen to music. And, when she is satisfied that she has squeezed every drop of goodness from the day, when she finally allows herself to be still, our Missy drops off exhausted to recharge her senses for what will come the next day.

Happy Birthday my Ellie Mooch. May this year be full of happiness and love and laughter and cuddles.

My girl is missing her brother and often asks how long until it is until we pick him up from school. She needed a new project, something to keep her busy in the time when he is gone. Missy can't stand being idle. She is always on the go; exploring, investigating, discovering with an endless narration in place.

Her new flower garden is her pride. She took the Rooster and Tools out and explained carefully the process she would take to water her new plants. Moving the stool to help her reach the higher shelves and filling her watering can from the bucket nearby. She finds the smell of mint intoxicating and loves to throw her face in its big green leaves and inhale deeply. She was mindful of the order of her flowers, choosing carefully where each bloom would go. She has adopted the larger plants in pots as her responsibility too, knowing full well that I am too busy to water them with any sort of frequency.

Today was much harder than I expected. It was very emotional and I was quite shocked by that feeling of letting go. It hurt.

My guy was so prepared. He was calm but excited and, like thousands of 5 year olds, had been counting down the days for about a week. Mama on the other hand was not so ready for the wave of emotion that overcome her. I have been cool all week, not really thinking about what was to come, focussing on my first day back at work. I had payed little attention to the significance of that moment.

Today really marked the end of an era and a change to our days. And I felt it. I will only be privy to such a small part of his life, much of it going on inside the gates of his new school. I will miss the times where the adventures would unravel as the day progressed. I am so proud of the little boy who walked confidently and proudly into his new classroom. Who waved goodbye with such little ceremony.

There were so many best bits about the Roosters day but for me the best bit was collecting him, feeling that little hand slip so neatly into mine and of hearing all the tales of this very first day.

First day of Pre-school

There was a lot of excitement in our house this morning. As soon as she woke up Missy knew exactly where she was going. New lunch box, new bag, a full tube of sun-screen that was hers with her name on it. She was set to meet this new adventure head on.

As we turned into pre-school she noted that she had not yet turned three and would it be OK to go today. I assured her that she could go today being not quite three, that being 2 and a half is OK. No, she said, I am actually 2 and 3 quarters.

This conversation could have gone on and on if I explained that she is 1 month from three. This little girl of mine who needs an explanation for everything, who needs to understand the whys and where-forths of each concept she encounters. She exhausts me with her questions and conversation and cracks me up with her expressions many times each day.

Today was bittersweet as a dropped one child to her first day of pre-school and then took the other one shopping for school shoes and uniforms. We are a few weeks away from his first day. I know that his drop-off will be a little more difficult and that a few tears will be shed.

The time with my babes has flown. I know now that these will be my only two. I am holding dear these times, the unfaltering, unquestioning, unconditional, to the moon and back a billion times, love. The Rooster still holds my hand fiercely, and although he assures me that he will always want to hold my hand, I know that soon enough he will walk near to me and save that affection for the quiet times in our home. Sometimes I want to stop time just where it is, but I couldn't deny my children the adventures that lay ahead of them as they head off into their own little worlds.