Avoiding the winter blues

The boys have been sick this week. Yesterday was the fourth day of fevers hovering around 39-40 degrees. We've been inside all week, and needed to get outside and breathe in some fresh, clean sea air. We didn't stay out long, but it was enough to replenish our spirits. The sky was grey and moody, the air damp with gentle drops, but the chips were hot, the smiles real, and the cuddles warm. It was just what we needed.

25/52

"A portrait of my boys each week, every week, in 2013"

Oh, darling boys, you make me laugh.

Look at this kid; three going on thirteen. Check that attitude.

Roc. Well and truly sick of having a camera pointed in his direction. 

 And my Hame. Pretending to be grumpy, but can't hide the cheeky smile in those eyes.

"Take a photo of my grumpy face, mama!"

As ever, linking with Jodi.

The road to less - part 1: the kitchen

That day I woke up, with yet another mild feeling of panic, something shifted in my gut and I just knew enough was enough. I had to wrestle back control of our waste, our consumption, our consumerism.

I have no intention of living with radical minimalism. I simply want us to make conscious decisions. I want my boys to know that owning lots of things doesn't make you happy. That there is a huge difference between necessity and convenience. And a huge difference between needs and wants. I have no interest whatsoever in never fulfilling the 'wants', but I do have a strong interest in becoming more mindful consumers.

Our kitchen is the heart of our home. I spend hours in it cooking for my family, teaching my boys how to bake, sipping hot tea, entertaining friends, and sitting under the window, laptop fired up, in my 'office' with a view. It made sense for me to start my journey there.

My kitchen was overspilling with out of date food, utensils I never touch, appliances that we don't use or need, and junk drawers that were full of... junk, funnily enough.

But I tackled it.  It took a full day - from 8am - 5.30pm. Somewhere in the middle I wondered if I'd actually make any sense of the chaos. But I did. I gifted, and thrifted, and tossed a huge amount of stuff that wasn't needed or useful, that was beyond repair, or out of date.

It's not perfect. There is still too much stuff. But I have made a huge difference, and importantly, a commitment to review in a month and undertake another cull.

Here's a visual of the beginning. Imagine this in every cupboard and drawer.

Yes, that is an old receipt. And a formula scoop that hasn't been required for at least 2.5 years. Why???

And here's the midway point; when I wondered how I was going to make sense of it all.

And here's the end result.

I cook a lot. For pleasure, for health, and for economy. I try to avoid boxes, packets, additives and preservatives, which means we have a lot of raw and whole ingredients. Having them well organised so they can be identified at a quick glance is total luxury. 

Not even 'under the sink' escaped. As as much as I love the smell of these cleaning products, I won't be replacing them when they're finished. I have been using boiling water and eucalyptus oil to clean absolutely everything all year and I am fully converted. It's environmentally friendly, cost-effective, and a natural disinfectant.

Pared back. We had seven pairs of tongs. And so much plastic kiddo cutlery. Crazy.

I think the bathrooms are up next.

24/52

"A portrait of my boys, once a week, every week, in 2013"

Week 24. How about that.

This week has seen a shift in the air. The boys seem to have suddenly grown up. Each day that passes sees a little less baby, and a little more boy. Watching children grow into the people they are going to be is such a privilege.

This is Roc. Everything about this photo is him. Fearless, cheeky, adventurous, (and not at all concerned about the 'sofas are for sitting' rule)

And this is my Hamish. Joyous. Happy. Delighted. And delightful.

As ever, playing along with Jodi.

Starting the journey to less

I can't ignore it any more. All year, I've been feeling overwhelmed - almost suffocated - by so much... stuff.

Stuff in every cupboard. In every drawer. On every available surface. I keep buying storage solutions, only to have them overspill within days of being in use.

Our bedroom houses a beautiful console. I envisaged a gorgeous vignette: softly glowing lamps, beautiful hard covered books, and precious ornaments. Instead, what I see each morning the moment I open my eyes is a screeching cacophony of unread magazines, cables and cords, carelessly discarded jewellery and receipts, birthday cards (from March!), miscellaneous plastic containers (yet more failed storage solutions) and mystifying detritus.

I've never had such a big kitchen. Ever. I doubt I will again. There are three tall vertical pantries, four under-bench cupboards, five overhead cupboards, and ten (yes, ten!) deep drawers. We also bought two butchers blocks, each with two shelves, and created an island bench from them. Yet, inexplicably, I have completely run out of room. The debris has migrated to the benchtops.  This slow moving but entirely consuming front of gratuitous waste knows no bounds.

Every room in our house is the same, and it's messing with my head. I can't breathe. Nothing is ever properly tidy or clean. Nothing seems to have a permanent home. There is nothing peaceful about the most important space in my life - my home. And when things are tidy (at least on the surface) there is absolutely no denying the joy I feel, followed by the most soothing calm. I wish I could bottle it.

None of this was intentional. And I don't quite know how we got here, but I suspect babies, parenting, working, and general exhaustion simply overtook everything else. Stuff has a very clever way of simply sneaking in. And bad habits are too easy to form.

So, I'm going to fix it.

It's going to be hard. We are going to have to get rid of lots of stuff. We are going to have to make tough decisions. It's going to take the rest of the year, undoubtedly, and then it will take a will of steel. The journey probably won't be pretty, but I know the end result will be.

And it will be more than that. We will have less waste. We'll probably save money too, not re-buying things we already own, or better yet, deciding that actually, we don't need it after all.

Our boys will learn that lots of stuff doesn't equal happiness. In fact, potentially the opposite. That it makes decisions more difficult. That it stifles their creativity.

Our environment will be calm. Clear. Uncluttered. Life will be easier.

We're going to live with less. I can't shake the belief that less stuff will mean more room for people, for love, for laughter and for living. I'm down with that.

I'm starting with the kitchen. 

Wish me luck.

23/52

"A portrait of my boys, once a week, every week, in 2013"

We dashed out, after the rain, and before the dark, to get some fresh air after being bunkered down with illness for the past couple of weeks.

I love how children are drawn to swings, like moths to the flame.

Roc: "Look at me mummy, I'm superman!"

Hame. Quietly enjoying in his own little world. 

As always, playing along with Jodi. How is it week 23 of 2013 already?

New!

Ooh, look!

I've made my blog a bit prettier.

I've given it a new name, too.

I've been thinking about this for a while now, so I'm giving it a go. I'll see how it feels, how it fits, if it gives me a bit more freedom, if it feels more me.

My blogspot address is still the same until I am sure this where I'm headed.

x

22/52

"A portrait of my boys, once a week, every week, in 2013"

Roc. Rainbow boots. Very conscious of looking "cool" at the moment. Where did my baby go?

Hamish. Blowing bubbles is a BIG deal for this little one.
Serious big steps forward and I couldn't be more proud of him. 

When sickness strikes

Our house has been struck with bug after bug the past couple of weeks. From tonsillitis, to colds, to gastro, the poor boys have been hit hard. There has been a significant amount of vomit, lots of high temps and tears, and of course, as many mummy cuddles as I can give.

I always wonder whether the fact they were premature and have always been on the very low end of the growth charts means they are more susceptible to illness, or if it means it takes them longer to recover.

Yesterday little Roc took himself to off to bed at 3pm. For the night. He didn't properly wake up until 7am this morning. He wasn't even hungry when he eventually woke. I hauled him to the doctor, still in pyjamas, and then he slept again from 9.30am until midday. And then at 4.30pm, it was all too much, and he took himself off again to bed. After a very animated reading of The Grinch he was fast asleep by 5pm.

For a child who usually doesn't stop talking, or moving, from the second he wakes until the second he sleeps, it has been very disconcerting.

Only the day before, Hamish was feverish, sleepy and unwell with tummy pain. If you follow me on instragram, you'll know that last week they both fell asleep on the waiting room floor of the doctor's surgery while we were waiting to be called. Once we were in the doctor's little room, Hamish vomited all over him, while Rocky fell asleep in the patient's chair - completely upright.

I've been trying to nourish their bodies and souls with restorative broths, vitamin fuelled juices and plenty of mama cuddles.

Poor little bears. I hope it ends soon. As much as I sometimes wish for peace and quiet, I'd take their noise and chaos any day over this awful illness and the disturbing quiet that accompanies it.

 

This is how we Montessori

The boys go to a Montessori kindergarten. T and I consciously chose Montessori; it's not close to our home, it's in the opposite direction to our workplaces, and it's not a typical "long" daycare. 

The reasons we chose it are simple, really. We believe in the underlying principles. That children thrive when they are busy, when they feel useful, when they're learning practical skills, and when they can do things at their own pace.

I like that every activity can be extended upon, depending on their interest, ability and learning level. I like that you can incorporate it easily at home. I like that you don't have to buy special things or set up special spaces.

I like the way children are encouraged to take responsibility for their own work, and for putting it away when they're finished. I like that they can choose what they want to work on and independently get on with it. 

I'm no expert and I'm most certainly no purist, but I try to support what they're learning at kindy by incorporating Montessori principles at home too.

This is how we Montessori :)

Learning shapes, colours, letters, sounds and words. This activity also incorporates fine motor skills.

Roc's favourite is the pentagon, although lately he's started asking for dodecahedrons (weirdo!). These cards are simply hand drawn with markers, laminated, and matched with coloured match sticks from the craft shop.

Shelling peas. Fine motor skills. Food familiarisation. And helping out with dinner preparation. This activity can be extended to a mathematic one - counting, grouping, addition, subtraction, etc.

Baking. Measuring. Pouring. Stirring. And cooking. Learning how to provide nourishment and where food comes from. So important.

This gorgeous activity is wonderful. It addresses fine motor skills as well as maths. We can count, add, subtract, group, make patterns, and all sorts of other things.

Kids love drawing. Setting up a station gives them a place to work, a place to put away, and a place to take responsibility for keeping tidy. The pen holders help with grouping, colour recognition, and so on.

Pouring. Fine motor skills. Hours of fun.

Building, counting, colour grouping, shape grouping, much imagination.

Exploring nature. Making shapes. Collecting. 

And listening to the sea. A wonderful jumping off point for all sorts of stories, imagining and lessons.

Another home-made activity. Number recognition. Counting. Colour matching. Simple maths.

A nature treasure hunt. So much fun. And great Show & Tell.

A designated space for reading and relaxing. 

Pegging. At this age, this activity is primarily about motor function. Grasping the pegs, pinching them open, then putting them around the edge of the plate takes some concentration! As they develop, this activity can be extended on to include colour blocking, pattern forming, counting, addition and subtraction.

Simple toys that aren't automated. I don't think that toys that have lots of buttons teach kids anything except how to press a button! Everything in its place, and returned to where it belongs.

Mother's Day

Being a mama is the greatest privilege. I adore my boys. They complete my life.

I've been very blessed in this journey. I've never wished it away. I've never regretted it. I've never felt scared, or lost, or paralysed by fear.

Some days, of course, are harder than others, of course they are. But many, many days are blissful. Millions of moments are pure joy. On the whole, I haven't found motherhood hard, or horrible, or relentless, or thankless.

It's hard to admit this out loud sometimes. I'm always so conscious that everyone's experience is different. Everyone's experience is their own. And many many mothers suffer terribly from PND, anxiety, and lack of support.

There, but for the grace of God, go I.

Every day I am grateful.

Thank you my darling boys for making me a mama.

I love this photo. T caught us mid-just-doing-what-we-do.

This is a snapshot of my life. Of my love. Of my loves.

19/52

"A portrait of my boys, once a week, every week, in 2013"

Side by side. Hand in hand. Brothers in arms. I hope they always are.

My Hame. Running up and down the skate bowl. King of the Castle.

Roc. A speed demon on anything with wheels. This one has no fear.

As ever, linking up with Jodi's 52 project. 

Slowing down

I wrote the below post a few weeks ago, but I didn't publish it because things seemed to calm down and get better. And it did. For a while. But this week has been a bit of a tough one, for all the same reasons.

What it has proved to me is that my instincts were right. We do need to slow down, calm down, and guide gently. Because when we did it, it worked.

I needed this reminder for myself.

*****
Lately, I am overcome with an almost suffocating feeling that I - that WE - need to slow down.

We are busy people, like everyone, these days. We juggle parenting, playing, working, kindy, chores, tasks, meetings, classes, obligations, appointments, shopping, cooking, sleeping (or not), responsibilities and more. A lot of it is simultaneous. And parenting is so all-encompassing isn't it? It takes all your energy, all your love, all your patience, all your strength, and all your resolve to raise tiny humans the best way you can.

I'm exhausted. We all are. T's work is relentless, the hours inhumane, his days never-ending. I don't know how he does it. And now he has to travel away regularly for the next who-knows-how-long.

I am shouting too much, hurrying too much, trying to do too many things at the same time, and doing none of them well. I have a constant low level of panic - just there - just below the surface. And when it decides to rear its head, it's invariably in the middle of the night, in those long dark hours when the house is breathing its gentle sighs of sleep.

Our tempers are frayed, our patience well and truly tested, our souls hurting. We are drained.

Hamish needs us. We need to slow down for his sake. We need to be patient and kind. We need to not rush him. He has to trust that we'll give him the time and the space to do things in his own time without feeling like we're pushing him.

Rocky needs it too. His mind is like mine. It runs at a million miles and hour and I can literally see him spinning out of control before my eyes. He is having more tantrums, he is manic and hyper, and his usually benign quirks are fast becoming more problematic and more obvious as he tries desperately to control his environment.

They are waking at night again. They have started fighting meal times and bed time. Running away at the shops, and at parks.  Fighting with each other, and with us.

Weekends have become endurance events. I have been willing bedtime to arrive. Dreading going out. Feeling overwhelmed by the huge number of domestic tasks on the to-do list and too tired to do anything about it.

Yesterday morning, as we were late - again - for kindy drop off and work, trying desperately to convince the boys to eat. FASTER!, get dressed, PLEASE!, STOP SCREAMING!, clean your teeth, QUICKLY! get in the car, NOW! NOW!, I realised how bad it had become.

They were showing me, in the only way a three year old knows, how much they desperately need me to slow down. They simply stopped cooperating. They froze. They refused. They were defiant. There was screaming. Oh, the screaming. There were tantrums. There were tears. From all of us.

It was awful.

And unnecessary. So uneccesary.

It's like they're somehow overloaded and exhausted at the same time. Spinning out of control and unable to do anything about it.

I feel sick in the heart. I am their mother. I am the adult. I need to fix this.

And I will. Softly, gently, and with love. It is the only acceptable way.

Last weekend, we went to the Maleny Dairies. It was a wonderful day out. The boys fed baby animals - calfs and kids, rolled down grassy hills, ran until they could run no more, ate a picnic lunch beneath an ancient tree, and slept on the way home. It was a heart-lifting day. Soul quenching. And just what we needed.

18/52

"A portrait of my boys, once a week, every week, in 2013"

Hame. Taking flight. Full of concentration.

Roc. That laugh. I love that they have these moments just between them. Brothers in arms.

As ever, playing along with Jodi's 52 project.

17/52

"A portrait of my boys, once a week, every week, in 2013"

Hame. Poised ready for take-off. I'm so proud of this tiny human for learning to balance on his bike. It's harder for him, but he doesn't give up. He's my superstar.

Roc. At the 'pirate park'. Insistent upon wearing a pirate costume. And why wouldn't you?

Capturing them on camera is getting harder, so this week I snapped while they were engrossed in playing. I love these pics.

As ever, playing along with Jodi.

16/52

"A portrait of my boys, once a week, every week, in 2013"

Roc, his face showing no fear despite the dizzying heights he insisted I push his swing.

Hame. No poker face, this one. Thrilled to bits with being so high in the sky. 

Joining Jodi here