This guy

T is one amazing man. Adored by me and the twinadoes. Works himself to the bone, but always has enough left for one last game of tackle, and one last random musing about life.

They can't get enough of each other, these three men of my heart.

Happy Father's Day T.

We are blessed.

Cutie pies can write their own names in HUGE loping letters. They scripted the card. One Billion is the biggest number they can fathom.

Stacks on. A familiar weekend sight. 

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.

 

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.

Three and a half

My darling Hamish,

You have grown up so much, it seems, lately. You are walking differently. And talking like a grown up (still with the most adorable of lisps).

You have started standing your ground and challenging boundaries. You're still a soft and gentle soul, but you've found your voice. I'm happy that you're learning to stand up for yourself. It's so important. We just need to work on the delivery a little.

You have a beautiful capacity for creativity, and I love listening to your darling voice sing-songing stories that you have plucked from the depths of your imagination.

You can draw! You draw the most remarkable, quirky little people. I want to hang them up all over the house.

You have been poked, and prodded, pulled and paraded around doctors, physios and specialists this year, and your smile has never once wavered. You always see the good in people, and they in you.

You have a special sparkle in your eye that everyone you meet can see. You have a beautiful spirit and it shines straight out of your beautiful face and lights up everyone around you.

You still won't eat much meat.

We love you, darling baby boy of my heart.

All the love in the universe,

Your Mama

Ah, my Roc

You race towards me, full steam ahead, and throw your arms around my legs: "I just love you mum".

Laughter erupts from your elfin face as frequently as tears and tantrums.

You are ferociously independent, and remarkably capable. You are able to competely dress yourself, make your bed, set the table, and today you served up your own weet-bix.

But despite all this indepedence, you're still not entirely comfortable being alone, or playing independently. You NEED your peeps around you.

You are thriving at kindy, and I think you're just a little bit bossy. Apparently you are a stickler for the rules, try your very very hardest to do everything just.so and glow and grow with every little piece of praise that comes your way. In that way you are just like me. I was exactly like that as a child, and actually, I still am I think.

You talk. My goodness you TALK. You never stop, except when you're asleep, of course. Daddy would say you get that from me, too.

Physically, you're a little version of your daddy. Long and lean. Platinum blonde.

You've shot up recently. I can't believe how tall you are! Up, but not out. Your tiny little body is lithe, lean and looks like it's carved of marble.

And we love you. So so much. Did you know you sing like an angel?

All the love in the universe,

Your mama

10/52

A portrait of my babies once a week, every week, in 2013.

Roc. The aftermath of his first ever chocolate dipped strawberry. 

Hame. He adored the feeling of the dried cornflour slime on his hands. Lovely and soft, apparently.

Joining in with Jodi's 52 project.

9/52

I was very spoiled this weekend and was given a new camera for my birthday. I'm looking forward to getting to grips with it.
My boys are so divine at the moment. 3.5 is a beautiful age. They are filled with wonder, delight, love and enthusiasm.

Roc. Still obsessed with his Iron Man costume. He wears it every single day, from the minute he wakes up until it's PJ time. No matter the activity.

Golden-haired boy.

Playing along with Jodi's 52 week project.

Christmas traditions and finding my sparkle

The lovely Amanda over at Homely One kickstarted my Christmas spirit this year.

I have been feeling decidedly un-Christmassy. I don't know why really. I think it's easy for Christmas to get all just a bit too much. Too much stuff, too much waste, too much expectation.

But after reading Amanda's post about family traditions, I started thinking about ours and slowly, but surely, that Christmas sparkle started to take hold. I realised that there is a lot to love about taking the time to share special moments and create memories.

These are the things I cherish:

• Putting up the tree, accompanied by champagne and Frank Sinatra
• The obligatory Santa photo
• Taking the boys into the city at night to see the big tree, the Christmas windows and to pick out their 'special' ornament. Each year they get a fancy schmancy one and when they eventually leave home (sniff), they will have a lifetime of beautiful decorations to take with them
• Watching the Carols by Candlelight and singing our lungs out
• Going to visit the Christmas Lights - there are some crazy people out there who do the most ridiculous things to their houses at Christmas time and I'm in the front row. I love seeing how bonkers people get for Christmas; it's sweet really
• Working out what Christmas baking I'm going to do and then enjoying a couple of full baking days with the boys. This year, my SIL and the boys' cousins are going to join in too
• Baking the Christmas ham on Christmas Eve and making an occasion of the first carving
• Finding one new 'what to do with leftover christmas ham' recipe each year to add to the repertoire
• Ham sandwiches! 
• Christmas crafts with the boys. This year, I've planned for them to make Christmas button collages and we're going to attempt a piece of artwork for each set of the grandparentals
• Getting a porcelain photo ornament for each of the boys made

The things I do just for me, really, are:

• Buying all the Christmas magazines and reading them slowly across the whole month
• Putting fairy lights all over the house and garden and flatly refusing to let anyone turn the overhead lights on. Ever. Some have said I'm slightly nuts when it comes to fairy lights.
• Indulging in some late night bubble baths, with bubbles of the champagne variety and my 'Christmas' book

And the things that T and I do together are:

• Wrapping the presents at night by fairy light (stupid idea really - can't see a bloody thing) and Christmas Carols
• Writing the boys a Christmas letter
• Sharing one special gift with each other on Christmas Eve with some bubbly after the boys are all tucked up in bed asleep 

There, I feel better already. Hello Christmas sparkle!

pic from pinterest here

Playing catchup

I've woken up with a spring in my step today, because these little darlings (look at thos two blonde heads!).....

 

 

ARE SLEEPING!!!!!!!!!!! IN THEIR OWN BEDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALL NIGHT LONG!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Check out that sleep chart. That was yesterday. Today I was very happy to add another sticker to the row. In fact, the past two nights they haven't woken at all! I can't remember the last time I had two nights in a row of unbroken sleep, and I genuinely feel like a new person. Like I can take on the world. Like I can enjoy the day and look forward to the next one. I don't think I realised just how tired I actually was.

 

The boys and I have been having fun. I drew some townhouses on their chalkboard for art time colouring-in. The sun is now purple and the grass is orange. Why not?

 

 Nature 'treasure hunts' are BIG at the moment. The boys are enjoying them immensely. And I love seeing what they come up with. Look at that single blade of grass and that single rosemary leaf. Aren't kids just divine?

 

 

 

This is often how you'll find us when we're on one of these treasure hunts. They really are the best of mates.

 

 



 

In other unrelated news, I have fairy lights in my stairwell. Why not? I'm the only female in the house so I think it is my duty to make things as pretty as possible.

 

And to top things off, one of my very dear friends Marri (she owns the amazing Bolly & Bear) is getting married today! I can't wait. There's nothing better than love is there?

Speaking of love, T and I met 15 years ago. 15 years! That's nearly half my life. Love him so much. Wow, life was so different then. We were both so young - just starting out at uni. Our biggest concerns were where to head out to on a Saturday night (well, that and exams of course). Looking back, I think my biggest concern ought to have been my wardrobe. What was I thinking!!?? Anyhow, I think it's fitting that we're off to celebrate some special love today.

 

 

 

 



Boys, you're three. THREE!



My babies are three, and I adore them. I feel very very lucky to be their mama. When I was pregnant, and even since, people have told me that parenting can be hellish and for little reward. I just don't agree. I adore it. I think it's the biggest privilege in my life. Sure, bed time is a circus every.single.night, and my patience wears thin [sometimes more than sometimes], but I never wish I was anywhere else. I've never wished it away. I'm lucky x

Roc,

You're three, going on 34. In the weeks leading up to your birthday, you were telling anyone who'd listen that you were "two now, but next week, at my birfday, I will be sirty-four". You just want to be like your daddy.

You are still the world's biggest talker.  You narrate every minute of the time you're awake. Your language is extraordinary in fact. You know words, concepts and ideas that make me gasp out loud in shock. You're a rapid visual learner, so you can read lots of sight words and are obsessed with spelling. You read everything in sight and want to know what it says if it's a word you don't know.

Your tantrums ended almost as rapidly as they began (thank goodness), and you are generally a happy, delighted and delighful little boy.

You sneak into our bed at about 6am each day for snuggles and you are just beside yourself with happiness when you do. You curl up close with your daddy and I hear you whisper "I love you" to him. Then you creep across to me, put your tiny hands on my cheeks and tell me you love me too. Then you fall into a happy slumber with a smile on your face. You are a very very affectionate little boy.

You're big now too. Really big. So tall! I look at you tearing around the back garden and find it so hard to believe that when you were first born all ten of your fingers wrapped around the very tip of my pinkie finger. You were so so tiny.

You adore singing. And you can sing! Whenever we're out and about people come up to you and tell you you have the voice of an angel and it's such a delight to hear you singing without any self-consciousness. Your favourite tune (which is rapidly becoming my least favourite, if I'm honest, because it's all I hear!) is the Morningtown Ride by The Seekers. You love it. You even sing it every day you're at kindy for your class.

You are so like me in so many ways - eager to please, a memoriser, a chatterbox, always trying to make people smile, just a little bit bossy, and more than a bit OCD (remind me to tell you about the blankets!). And in so many physical ways you're so much like your daddy. You're a version of him in miniature. Like twins :)

You don't like being alone. But we're working on getting you to enjoy 'self-directed play' (or so they call it).

We are immensely proud of you, you chirpy, clever, happy, singing angel.

All the love in the universe,
Your Mama

My darling Hamey-bear,

Happy third birthday, angel-boy.

I just adore you, my baby. You are so soft, and so gentle. You're always ready for a cuddle and there's nothing better than feeling your precious soft cheek against mine.

You are obsessed with Thomas and his friends. You know all their names - every single last one. You know if they're "steamies" or "diesels". You know which ones need what coal. You know which have tenders and which have carriages. Which 'huff', and which 'puff'.

You take a collection with you to bed every single night. Some nights, I'm surprised there's any room for you at all. But you insist. And later on, just before he goes to bed himself, your daddy sneaks in and removes them all from your gentle grasp and puts them on your bedside table.

You're perfectly content with your own company, and happy to play in your own imagination. You love books and insist on two stories every night. One from a book, and one "from your mouth mummy". And then you need a song. You usually pick the rainbow song, but sometimes you want something from deep within your own imagination and then mine gets a work-out!

You're a little chatterbox and you're starting to give Roc a run for his money. You have started asserting yourself more and more and simply shouting over the top of him if he doesn't stop to let you get a word in!

And even thought you're so big now - THREE! - you're still my baby. You come in for cuddles at 5am every morning, which I know I will miss when you stop. You're a wriggler, so not much more sleeping happens at my end after that, but you just need me to be snuggled up against you. "Mummy tucks" are the best thing in your world I think.

If you ask Daddy though, I think he'd say that when you launch yourself at him, throw your arms around his neck, and squeeeeeeeze out the biggest hug you can muster, that nothing can beat it.

I love you so much my kind, gentle, sweet, funny little boy.

All the love in the universe
Mamaxxx

A letter of a different kind. To T, on Father's Day

T,
You are smart. You are kind. You care.
You are resolute. And determined. 
[And stubborn].
You work hard. And long. For us.
And you deserve all the best things in the world.
You are funny. And fun.
You are my husband, and our babies' daddy and you are brilliant at both. 
[Lord knows neither are always easy.]
You love.
You are loved. 
By us. So much.

Happy Father's Day xxxx

briefly

Earlier in the week, before the rain hit, we had some beautiful Winter days. I love this time of year; it's by far my favourite. I don't mind being chilly because I love rugging up. I know it's somewhat hilarious to think of Brisbane as ever cold, but it has been this year. I've lived in Europe, so I know real cold as well and I still love it, although, our Brisbane version is somewhat more palatable, it's true.

The boys running through the afternoon sunlight, off on adventures. "Bye Bye Mama, we're off to have our adventure now. See you later!", they shouted back at me as they took off as quickly as their little legs could carry them.

This awful fuzzy photo is of Hamish's first 'H'. He took his piece of chalk (blue, of course) and drew with great concentration (tongue out), and announced gleefully afterwards, "Mama! It's a H for Hamish. It's a H for meeeeee". Teared up, of course. Waterworks.

I finished the bedhead, and I adore it. I'm a terrible photographer, so I took a close up of the fabric as the  pic on the right below is totally yellow and doesn't show the detail. The fabric is a really gorgeous linen. 

The boys are growing up so much. We've been walking around our neighbourhood a lot and they seem to all of a sudden really 'get it'. They understand to check driveways for cars, and stop at the corners, and not go near the road without holding my hand. It's enjoyable exploring with them, instead of terrifying, and a privilege to see the world through their eyes. I can't really remember the last time I used the pram. Bliss.

I painted the chair! I LOVE it. It's such a gorgeous colour (which you can't see because there's that whole terrible photographer thing...). I just need to select cushion fabrics now. I'm thinking a busy navy/white botanical print for the seat cushion and something a bit wacky like a geometric pattern in yellow or coral for a scatter cushion.

Spent some time with my sisters. Pretty, aren't we. Genetically blessed, I tell you.

 And, oh, the mundane, my floors. Look at that. Disgusting. I can't believe my grouting was that filthy. Nothing a bit of bleach, some bicarb and a bit of elbow grease couldn't fix. So gross. I really had no idea it had become so bad until I saw one of those pins on pinterest about cleaning grout. I'm a  bit pinterest obsessed actually. I saw one of those ecards yesterday with words along the lines of, "Don't worry darling, it was on pinterest, so it must be true". That's me.

And in more of the mundane, it's been raining a lot here lately, so my washing pile is taller than me. I don't like using the dryer, but I may have to give in.

Getting my paint on

I'm obsessed with painted wicker / painted cane / painted rattan / painted whateveryouwanttocallit and have been stalking pinterest and ebay like a crazy person.

See: obsessed.

  

  

(these images are all from my pinterest page - http://pinterest.com/immieollie/ - and you can click through to find the original sources)

I've missed out on five fabulous chairs but today I won! Bam! I got this unpolished beauty for the bargain price of $20, and the best bit is that it's currently residing only a few suburbs away.

She's currently not the most glamourous of chairs, but I love her diamond panels and curved arms. She's definitely going to be turquoise. Or yellow. Or shiny shiny shiny black.........

Me. A mum.

I'm a mum. I'm their mum. They depend on me. I'm a teacher, a guide, a mentor, a feeder, a protector, a keeper, a soul-carrier, a heart-wearer, a carer, a disciplinarian, a story-teller, a playmate, a book-reader, an example, a role-model, a citizen-grower, an influencer. They need me, and I need them.

Being a mum is the most brilliant thing in my life. It's also the hardest. Every.single.moment.and.decision. is laced with doubt, guilt, conscience, question, and of course love. There's always love. Big giant suffocating love that brings tears to my eyes just thinking of it.

But I want to be a better mum. A more patient one, and a less distracted one. Definitely a less shouty one. I wish for the time, the freedom and the... privilege?... to take it slowly, to move at their pace, take their lead, look at the world through their eyes, rather than constantly needing to hurry up, tidy up, shoosh for a minute, stop fighting, get-a-move-on, and whatever-else-on.

I feel like I'm torn between the real-life urgency to earn money, keep my foot on the career ladder, and contribute my share and the real-life yearning to just be their mum - now - while they're so little and they need me so much. They are utterly dependent. The physical dependency is tiring, but not as exhausting as the sheer emotional pressure of having someone's life in your hands. And I don't want to break it. It's so precious.

I know we have to work. We have to earn money. We have to pay for this house, this life, this stuff. I'm not ready yet to think about whether we need it all (I'm quite sure we don't), because that might mean something I have only ever romantically entertained on mini-break weekends in front of roaring fires, balloon of red wine in hand (pre-kids, of course, when living in the country sounded divine if you could pop up to the city whenever you needed to). But I also firmly believe that if one of us can be at home with our boys, then we should. We ought. It's our job. It is better for one parent to be here often, than neither. I'm constantly amazed at how we do things in our own home to ourselves and to our children (our children!), that we would never dare to do to our employers. Isn't that back-to-front?

I'm not one of those mums who knows I'm a better mum if I'm working. I'm not. I'm a better mum when I'm immersed with them. That's not to say I don't enjoy working, because I do - if the work is interesting and challenging. I like to be busy, and I like to achieve results. I like remembering that I can chat about things other than child development and eating habits. But I don't think I do both well enough when they're competing for my time. I don't think I'm a good mama when I'm trying to juggle work, which never falls on the days it's supposed to, meaning I'm constantly trying to distract them so I can work. I don't think do a good enough job for my clients because I'm only ever partly on the job.

I frequently feel annoyed about this. Angry that I can't do it all. Frustrated because I'm so tired of the juggling and I can't explain it properly to anyone else - it just sounds so trivial when I try. Annoyed because our weekends are exhausting and tag-teaming and T and I don't have much quality time together. Cross because the house is always chaotic and we're always running out of milk! Exhausted because I haven't had a decent night's sleep in three years and wondering if I ever will again. Peed off because I don't get out much, that I don't see my friends enough, that I've become dull and boring and WHAT ABOUT ME? WHERE DID I GO IN ALL THIS?

But when it comes down to it, right now, I am a mum. I am their mum. It's my job. It's my heart. And for now, that's what I need to be.

Universe, are you listening?

Lately

There has been a shift in our house. Our full time nanny has finished, and so has my roundabout of working full time across a number of jobs.  It was too much. Too unbalanced. I'm working less now and it feels good. I feel settled. Grounded. The boys are at 'junior kindy' two days per week and they're thriving. Our time together is so precious and we've been busy!

Baking

Colour sorting

 And sorting by numbers too (just some contact taped sticky-side-out onto a wall)

Making rainbows with pipecleaners and colanders

Pegging (oh, I can't wait for them to become adept at this. I am not exactly the world's biggest laundry lover)

Making playdough and working at it ever so diligently

 Hours of 'Thomas and his friends' - these boys must surely be the world's biggest fans

very enthusiastic trampolining (Hamey even takes his 'meh' jumping - bless him)

And in between all of that, there's been a bit of 'me' and 'us' time too.

Getting some exercise in - walking / jogging, twinadoes in tow in the mother of all prams

and date night sparkles!

I am blessed :)