Lost... in space

Well that essay took much longer to write than expected. Not longer than it should have, just longer than I had allowed.

It is safe to say that the Spring school holidays have been semi-disastrous... for me. I say "semi" to acknowledge that I am faced with the insanity of first world problems. The term "disaster" is relative. My mental state has been messy. I've had uni work looming over me, with the uni semester recess only slightly overlapping with school holidays. So most of the time, as I've been trying to read academic journals on human geography and natural (real) disasters, I've had kids fighting/playing at my feet, making mess, requiring food, requiring taxi services etc etc etc. There's one buzzing right behind me right now. We've had friends come to stay, rugby presentations to attend, sailing days, and on and on and on and ridiculously on and on. All very full lovely living. All of which keeps me from focusing on academic work, which is becoming increasingly important to ME! For ME! 

Oh I know. Don't worry, I've been told. A family member, who shall remain nameless, pointed out to me that my sole purpose in life is to mother. Let's just call him "He of the older generation".

"Bad luck girl, you had 'em, you look after 'em." 

But I still do, I said. 

"It's not enough", he said. 

But I focused solely on them - in the home - for nearly 9 years, I said. 

"Well it wasn't long enough!" he exclaimed. And on, and on, and on.

Well, sisters and brothers. Fuck it. If this is selfish, then selfish I am. I want it! I need it! I'm going to have it! And my children will learn from it. Who knows what they will learn? That's for them to figure out as they process the world for the rest of their eternity. What do you think they will learn from me staying solely focused on them for the next ten years? Well... we're not going to find out.

Finally, after many days of headache and vomity sensations and incredible tetchiness and tension, my essay was submitted, 3 days late. It felt quite liberating really.... letting go like that and accepting my circumstances. During this school holiday period my mind has run like a mouse on a wheel. I'm not willing to let go of any of it... of my studies or of my family. In one week I'll be adding a day of work, with a 3-4 hour commute, into the mix as well. And that too shall be ok. Because it's only one day. And it will be a day of something different, something with new people, new purpose with old knowledge and re-fired up passion. A day of something different.

So, with the illumination of all that rambling... here are two stories of happy family moments. Perhaps the only happy family moments to have occurred in the last two weeks but still... they happened.

The first was my Noah-Noo's 9th birthday party. Nine! I'll save my nostalgic Oh my God, nine? Where did all those years go moment for another day. This year we opted for a party with all the boys and 3 girls from Noah's class, and all of their families, at our favourite family picnic place... a clearing surrounded by water and bush, about 10 minutes upstream from us. It feels wild and free and special. The perfect place for a celebration of 9 years of life.

I love Whole Family birthday parties. They highlight the rich community that we have around us as all of our children grow together - indeed, as we all grow (if we're lucky). Rather than being a chore, just another event to ferry our children to, the Whole Family birthday party can be a beautiful day for everyone.

Soon to come... a visit from a fairy.

In the name of the father

Last weekend we woke to sunshine over Pittwater, a gentle breeze and the excitement that comes with any family celebration. It was Father's Day... the day Dada gets to sleep in (a little bit) before we wake him up with jumps, wrestles in bed and a cup of tea. The day we have banana pancakes for breakfast before doing something luxurious. This year, our something luxurious was taking a picnic, flask of tea and a rugby ball to The Basin for a relaxing day in the sun.

(I don't know how to turn this one around)

  There is a reason Choochie had the water to himself. It is only the start of Spring... the water is still freezing!

  Choochie trying to contract into himself to warm up!

wallaby with joey

We had such a lovely day. The Zimbo was suitably celebrated with family boating, bbqing and touch footy. I had quite a lovely day myself with a cup of tea and some crocheting in gentle Spring sunshine. 

May all fathers be loved and supported in striving to be their best, for the benefit of our children and world at large. Happy Father's day!

Autumn good morning, summer good night

Happy Easter long weekend to you.

As Autumn leaves crunch under your feet, may you find new beginnings and inspiration in the change of the season.
May you be celebrating the harvest and dancing with little loved ones, if that is indeed how you do it. That's how we like to do it.
May you see them dancing.
May the strings of their instruments bring tiny flutters to the strings of your heart, when you least expect it.
May you be reminded, in the business of your days, to inhale - exhale - stop - look and listen.
May pumpkin soup warm your belly and good company warm your smile.

"God play with us, turn us sideways and around" (M.Leunig)

"God give us rain when we expect sun"

5th February 2005

"God help us to live slowly,
to move simply,
to look softly,
to allow emptiness,
to let the heart create for us."

(Michael Leunig)

Seven years since a wedding. Eighteen years of loving him.

Post script... the fourth light of Advent

I do like to be thorough. Although the festive season is over, I couldn't leave the fourth light of Advent hanging in mid-air, with no closure. So here's how it went...

On the fourth Advent Sunday, Mary and Joseph joined our nativity scene and, over the coming days, made their symbolic journey towards our symbolic stable. I love the reverence that Noah brings to the nativity scene. He calmly, beautifully, lovingly moves these two needle-felted figures (made by Mama) a little bit closer each day. Baby Jesus (needle-felted by Noah in Kindergarten) is added to the scene on Christmas eve.


The inner quiet of our nativity scene was contrasted with the raucous, "outward" singing of carols in the park, where one of Santa's helpers (my boys know that the real St Nicholas would not be frolicking around in shopping centres or with Rural Bush Fire Brigades the week before Christmas) arrived in a fire truck, accompanied by fire sirens and barking dogs.

In the final days before Christmas, our decorations continued to appear in Advent stockings each morning, until the boys all chose "our" tree (the Christmas Tree Farm's lack of Christmas spirit is another story) and we decorated it together on the 23rd. Final decorations were added around our home, and on Christmas eve the Advents calendar was removed to allow space for the Christmas tree to sparkle with all her might. She was lovely.

"may your days be merry and bright"

On Boxing day, the Three Kings began their 12 day journey, following the star, until they finally arrived at the stable on 6th January.


Christmas and New Year were sunny, fun-filled affairs at our house this year, with many friends around, much loud laughter and much silliness. Our decorative rituals brought us a sense of balance, and they brought calm. They reminded us to take a moment to reflect on this sacred time and ponder why it may be sacred to us. Amidst all thriving summer activity - slapping on suncream, rambling for cozzies, running down the jetty (because, you know, going swimming causes a frenzy... even when you get to do it everyday, often several times a day!), our rituals anchor us, and bring me "home". And they bring little shimmering stars to the big, blue eyes of my little ones. I hope they also warm their hearts, and give them magic memories to keep long after their childhoods are gone.

The third light of advent

We've had the coldest start to Sydney summer in 50 years. This allows for unusually cosy nights snuggled under the doona, and our little ones are insisting on still wearing winter pyjamas! We have been madly preparing the house to receive some old friends... one of the Zimbabwean's African brothers-from-another-mother (!) is arriving tomorrow, with his wife and 2 children. They currently live in Dublin, Ireland, but seem to be quite home sick for South Africa, so it would be sooooo nice for them to enjoy SUMMER! Not winter, this Christmas. Fingers crossed that the rain dripping down our windows and filling our watertanks kindly holds off a bit over the next 10 days.

The second Advent has come and gone, and tonight we've lit the 3rd Advent candle. Our nativity scene is growing, slowly, slowly. There is a lovely space waiting for the appearance of Mary and Joseph next weekend, when they will commence their trek to our stable.

Our basket for decorations is slowly being filled as the Christmas angels bring us their gifts for our Advent's calendar. Occassionally, those party-girl angels stay out too late and forget to come until the following morning, but they never forget completely. Noah knows that they are invisible so of course they are able to deliver their magic unseen, while we're having breakfast. Ahhhh, years of mischief is paying off.

The second light of Advent is the light of the plants
that reach up to the sun
and in the breeze dance.

The third light of Advent is the light of the beasts
the light of hope that we see
in the greatest and least.

We've added some gumnuts and a tree to our scene for the light of the plants. Our tokens for "beasts" include a felt bird, a knitted chicken, and some yellow feathers. Mental note: must make felted sheep and donkey for next year. More appropriate than chooks, I think.

Tonight I made a rather large error. For the last few days, Noah and Chooch have been turning a very large, sturdy box into a laboratory cubby-house. I, not realising that they had taken such ownership of the box, ripped the box up this evening, to be put out for cardboard recycling. Three quarters of the way through my arduous task, I discovered the crayon lab drawings on the inner walls of their cubby-house. O dear. O big fat dear dear dear me.

There was so much cardboard (did I mention that it was a LARGE box) that I had to walk up our muddy (dirt) road, in light drizzle whilst wearing a head torch, to look for other household's recycling crates to take my excessive load. And now I prepare for the morning of disappointment when my loved ones discover what I've done.

The only thing for me to do is to tell them as soon as possible, apologise profusely and ask for appropriate ways in which I could redeem myself. This is what I (usually rather loudly) demand of them when they damage something of mine. And I really am (unfortunately) Volcano personified, if I find something damaged and they have neglected to tell me that the damage has happened. Have I already said O Big Fat Bum Bum Bum?

Suck it up, Girl. Take it like a good Mama should. Another lesson to be grateful for.

T'was the first of December

As the festive season commences in Australia, madness begins: dates and commitments blur together, the Sydney traffic steams on in the rising summer heat, the school year wraps up and frenzied Christmas shopping begins. This is how it has always been... a steaming frenzy.

The one Christmas that I spent in Germany wasn't like that. It felt much more quiet, gemütlich. This event occurs in opposite seasons, of course: here it is summer... expansive, open, loud and free; there it is winter... still, quiet, dark and cosy. Polar opposites.

As my family grows and our own traditions are built upon, I happily note that I am finding a place of calm. The challenge I have set for myself is to find calm sincerity amongst the thrum of summer song.

So, this is how it begins...

The first advent sunday, I clear a surface high enough to be safe from dog, cat and visiting toddlers. A blue silk is laid out, along with a felted night scene - blue mat with stars, made by Chooch last Christmas. Upon it, a candle with crystals, stones and shells scattered nearby. Above it hangs an Advents' wreath of felt leaves and gum nut elves. Some gently glowing lanterns are added, and that is that.

"The first light of advent is the light of the stones
that shines through the seashells, the crystals and bones.

Shine little light and show us the way
to the bright light of Christmas day."
*

A few days later, our Advent calendar - 24 hand-stitched stockings (inspired by Soule Mama a few years ago) - is hung across windows and, beginning on the 1st December, our Christmas angels bring one or two Christmas decorations each night, waiting for blue-eyed boys to find them each morning. These decorations are held safely in a basket while they wait patiently for the Tree.
And that is all.

Each week, a little bit more is added - slowly more decorations (as the angels bring them), a growing nativity scene, one or two pieces at a time, until finally, by Christmas Eve, almost all of the magic has arrived. This is the perfect pace for me. It is calm and methodical. Each piece arrives just when it is required, like breathing in and breathing out. These new traditions, ground me more and more each year that they are with us.

Peace and quiet blessings to each of us - whether drawing inward under a blanket of northern winter, or with arms outstretched in southern sunshine.

Little boys in the big city

A few weeks ago, as part of our summer holiday daze and savouring of the festive season, I headed off to the big city with the little boys.

One of the perks of where we live is that we can walk out the front door, down the hill, onto a ferry and there you have it... one of the world's prettiest harbours. I don't do it often enough to take it for granted. It always causes me to pause, and sigh, just for a moment. I hope my little ones remember these ferry rides fondly in the future.

So off we headed, across Sydney Harbour (all that land and all that water) to see if we could find Santa (or one of his helpers. We all know Santa is too busy at this time of year to be chit-chatting in shopping centres) ...

After a ferry and a bus ride we landed in the big bang big smoke amongst many hundred Sydney-siders. Our first destination was Elizabeth St and the Christmas window displays of David Jones department store. I don't remember making that trip as a child but I hope this will be the first of many visits for my boys. The window scenes really were beautiful, with puppets and props depicting carols and folk tales and songs. Maybe next year we'll try a visit by night, hopefully with a few less people on the streets so that we can look for longer.

Inside David Jones we did indeed find a Santa's helper who was warm and kind and chatted to Noah about where he could park his reindeer when he came to our home on Christmas eve. Charlie asked for an axe for Christmas. That was the first I'd heard of that request but he did continue to look for axe-shaped presents until all presents were unwrapped (no, he did not receive an axe. Shame).

After ice-cream sodas and cookies we toddled off to the Queen Victoria Building to see what we could see. We found a HUGE Christmas tree which we were able to stand right under and look up to the lovely domed ceiling, complete with twinkling lights and star on top. Lucky little boys. May they continue to live with blissful expectations of wonderful things, for a little while longer.

trick or treating

Some very scary faces: Tess, Charlie, Noah, Tom and Isabelle.

Choochie on a mission: Find scary house, say "trick or treat", hopefully walk away with a treat (or 2).

Found: the scariest house.

Mission accomplished. And he came out unharmed.

Witchy women (wasn't that a song from the 70's?)

Checking out the loot.

And after all those lollies, using up some energy with a dusk-picnic, complete with swing-spinning, playing in undies, and exploring gravestones in the cemetery. Perfect.

Happy Halloween! (Mwah-ha-ha-ha)

Story of the small boy who loved to play the guitar

There was once a small boy.


He liked to wear shorts with a red T-shirt and black sneaker-boots.

He liked to paddle on his body board on the edges of Sydney Harbour.


He loved to wear skinny jeans and be a rockstar.


He liked to play cricket on the beach.


He liked camping and camp fires.

He liked skidding on his knees until all of his jeans had holes in the left knee.

He liked fishing.

He liked to swim at the pool, at the beach, in the harbour.


He liked to take photos with his Dad's camera.


He liked to play rugby with his Dad, anywhere, anytime.


He loved to ride his bike a long long long long way.


But the thing he really loved to do, was play a guitar.


And his Mama learned many lessons from him, when she was still.

***********************************

It was 6 years ago today
that Noah came down from the heavens to stay.
He came to bring gladness and joy to the earth.
Good people and angels attended his birth.
So let us all join in the singing,
with heavenly birthday bells ringing...
Happy Birthday to Noah.