Simple summer days

Thinking back to my own childhood, it's the simple things that made summer holidays the most memorable.  We didn't do fancy overseas holidays or extravagant entertainment but we had the most amazing fun. (sponsored content)

We spent hours swimming at the Coburg Baths, drying ourselves off on the hot concrete between dips. We created fast moving whirlpools in the next door neighbours big, old, circular above ground pool. And on the warmest of nights we slept out in the backyard in a little tent, the air thick with mozzie repellent and the noise of cicadas. Hours and hours were spent in the backyard puddling around and I don't ever remember being bored. Those were the days!

We have kept it simple for summer this year at our place. And for the most part, the boys have loved their holidays at home. 

We have done lots of laughing and lazing around.

There have been homemade icy poles.

A trip to the movies. 

Fish and chips eaten on the back deck.
We even shelled some peas (their favourite, to go with the meal).

Loads of lego on the really hot days

Time in the garden tending our gigantic tomato plants. We made some delicious jam too.

And the most favourite, the new sprinkler and slip'n slide combo we bought. 

It's been uncomplicated and inexpensive. The boys are happy and content and as their mum I am reminded that the simple things in life and the backyard are often all we need. 






This post has been supported by Bloom, a new residential community over the other side of Melbourne where backyards are all the rage too. You can check them out on the book of face here. 

unwinding

I am not so good at unwinding from my stress.
It is a skill I am yet to master in my forty something years. 

One of my major goals for this year is to work on unwinding the knots. I want to carve out time for me, relish a little peace, find my well being and vitality and manage my (over) commitments. 

Weekends and short trips away are a part of that plan. Changes of scenery are so good for heart and mind. After the rigors of our big boy starting school then, the timing of Unblogged, the brainchild of Clairey Hewitt, was just perfect. 

We took our time, we lazed, we ate casually and the kids played. It was just beautiful.

In the very beautiful Halls Gap, unwinding was most certainly within reach. Thanks Claire and other “unbloggers” for lovely conversation and company. And Halls Gap, you are stunning. We will be back.

new neighbours

They're new neighbours but they have been in the neighbourhood for a while and anyway, it feels like we have known them forever.

There is an ease in the ebb and flow of life living next door to this beautiful little family of three.

The side gate is open and a precious two year old tinkerbell tiptoes in to our backyard now and again to steal a jump on the trampoline or five minutes playing trains with our boys.

A big black dog has been well and truly adopted and hours are spent patting.

The spoils of cooking and produce are shared and containers of deliciousness are passed across the fence and back again.

The difficult hours of dinner, bath and bedtime are easier when you can call out to someone else facing the same trials next door.

Having new neighbours, might seem like a relatively small thing in the grand scheme.
Small or not, it feels like I have won the lottery.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Treasuring the moment

We had one of those cosy days here today. It's very cold and the day was just right for me and the boys to snuggle and watch ABC for Kids on the couch in between the Batsman's therapy sessions. We ate toasted cheese sandwiches, yoghurt, grapes and ANZAC biscuits. While we munched, I watched them.  I watched them in that misty, sentimental way that comes when I slow down enough to recognise it. Love, love, love my boys.

This was one of those moments. A moment to treasure.

Next year the Batsman will go to school. Our routine, our lunchtimes together will shift significantly. It will be the Bowler and me having lunch some days. And on the days the Bowler heads to kinder or child care, it will be just me.

I know this change is going to take some adjustment. Like the plan ahead girl I am, I'm preparing myself early.

But for now, on this cold day that is bringing us closer to winter with each raindrop, all I am doing is treasuring the moment.

Image via We Heart It

You never know the impact your blog post will have

I read a lot of blog posts. Loads of them.

I love being able to be a little inside the minds of others. I love to read about what happens in their worlds and draw inspiration from their insights. I hope too, that ocasionally I can offer insight back in return.

As a parent, and particularly as a parent of a child with special needs, it is an absolute gift to have access to the often wise words from our global internet village of mums and dads. Parenting can be an isolating gig and sometimes it strikes me as a wee bit sad that the actual, real life village is often not there and for many of us, there is this, blog and social media land, to make these connections. But no matter because I reckon the universe gives you what you need when you need it. Perhaps where it comes from is not important.

Every now and then, I read a blog post that literally shifts something in me. A post that connects with me, speaks to me, takes some issue I have been struggling with into a new paradigm. That happened to me the day before yesterday when I came across this post. Ruth from Gourmet Girlfriend writes sagely in the post about fussy eating and her approach to feeding her kids - and when I started to read, I sat up and really took notice. She knows stuff - she has five, yes, 5 boys. So run away now and read the post and come back if you like...

I cried when I read it because I realised just how much I have been beating myself up about what the Batsman and the Bowler will and won't eat. The Batsman's sensory sensitivities (thank you autism, not), add a layer of complication to the eating caper that at many a dinner time has figuratively brought me to my parenting knees. I'm not going to air that pain here because I just don't want to give it any more power.

So I read Ruth's post and since I did I have been:

• reading cookbooks and food magazines and getting re-inspired about things I can cook for us to eat as a family.
• consciously reminding myself to let go of the stress and self flogging that for such a long time has gone with feeding the boys.
• feeling freed up
• going back and reading the post a few more times!

Something has shifted in my mind about this whole issue. It feels great.
Tonight, for the first time ever, yes EVER, the Batsman ate pieces of chicken breast that hadn't been chopped, minced, hidden or otherwise kitchen modified. He ate beautiful, crumbed and seasoned chunks of chicken breast. He chewed and chatted and swallowed without angst or upset.

It was amazing. And I can't help but think that perhaps Ruth's post had more than a little to do with it. The universe gives you what you need.

And what I want to say most of all is that we all have this most amazing opportunity when we blog, to put words out there for others to read and be inspired by. You never know the impact your blog post will have.









Image via we heart it

A beach of our own

We are at the beach this week. It's a much needed break for all of us to be together, away from the routine, to collect our thoughts and have some fun. It's peaceful and we feel so lucky to be here.

Today the Batsman really needed some one on one time. Increasingly he needs time without the rough and tumble of play with our ever busy Bowler who is currently two and a half years old but thinks he is fourteen.

I love the beach. Over the years I have grown to love it more when the weather is cooler and the beach is more likely to be quiet. We certainly picked our day and our weather today. When we reached our destination the beach was ours. Deserted. Empty except for me and my boy.

Beaches are amazing aren't they? There is something about the beach that, in my mind at least, helps people be closer to their truer selves. I felt my mind and body exhale as the Batsman and I found a little spot to sit. A place to settle in and be together.

He ran. He dug holes. He threw big pieces of seaweed into the waves. He covered his feet in sand. We laughed. We had a cuddle while the cool wind blew around us. His little body, sometimes just a bit stiff and contorted with anxiety, was visibly more relaxed. Freer. More like himself.

It was a beach of our own and we loved it.

Do you love the beach? What do you love most about it?

While I wasn't here

I haven't really been here. Well, I have a little. I haven't much felt like writing and I wanted to take a step back and reflect on what this blogging caper is all about...for me at least. I have not come up with anything definitive on that yet but I will let you know when I do.

I have read lots of amazing blogs over the summer break. There really is some fabulous writing and thinking going on out there and I feel very fortunate to be able to read it.

While I wasn't here we have...

played

cooked

lazed

                                                                                                                                                                        

eaten

ridden like the wind

well....almost like the wind

and we harvested, oh my how we harvested.

Our summer living and loving has been just gorgeous.

I hope it's been just as lovely for you and yours too.

12WBT Week 5 - the one where I get my run on

I'm excited this week. I have started to run. I have been able to run further and for longer than I ever have before. It's hurt a little bit along the way but largely it feels amazing to be moving like this. I have entered a fun run in December - my first ever. It's a 5km run along the water in Melbourne and I am excited and nervous about doing it. This week's training, in particular the Friday session where I completed the 5km on the treadmill has shown me that I can do it. I am beginning to see that running is a lot about the mind toughness and knowing in your heart you CAN do it. Sure you have to look after your body and at 42 years of age I am going to be prone to those niggly little injuries that come with "maturity" but I am starting to see what is possible by reducing my weight and increasing my fitness.

This week has also brought a much needed family holiday here. We are staying on a lovely farm on the most gorgeous country road. It sounds cliched but peace and serenity abound. I found the gym in Bright and I have been once but with scenery like we have here, it was time to take the training regime outside. There is nothing like making it up a huge hill and being rewarded with a view that stretches for miles of lush green farm land, cows grazing and kookaburras laughing at you. I haven't weighed in this week. There was just no room in the car for a set of scales. So I don't know whether I have lost weight. What I know is that I have stayed within my calorie limits, I have exercised and been active around the farm with the boys and I feel more relaxed than I have in a long time. And that can only be a great thing.

The week's workouts:

Thursday 20th - Gym (strength session)
Friday 21st - Gym (cardio session - 5km run/walk completed in 41 minutes)
Saturday 22nd - Gym (strength, cardio and core) = 800 calories burned
Sunday 23rd - Rest day and travelling to our holiday destination
Monday 24th - Gym (fitness session) - more running and feeling good
Tuesday 25th - Outdoor run - 3km and hill sprints (ouch)
Wednesday 26th- Walk - 4km (including hills)

Weight loss from October 19th to October 26th - ?
Weight loss from April 14, 2011 - 12.4kg

Perfect moment (dreams)

There was a perfect little moment in the day today.
Two boys who like to be together. They are mates, each delighting in the antics of the other.
There was a blanket spread on the floor, a favourite DVD playing.
There were toasted cheese sandwiches and apple juice and beautiful strawberries.
A carpet picnic. They loved it. A "nic nic", the Bowler called it.
There may have even been a little bit of carpet picnic wrestling. Boys are like that.
But I promise it never got out of hand. Not even for a second.

I am noticing the perfect little moments more these days. I reckon they are there if you look.


What perfect little moments have you had this week?

Image via We Heart It

One of the sweetest moments in the day...thank you Giggle and Hoot

The end of the day for little ones is nigh.
The Batsman and the Bowler are all clean, bundled in warm pyjamas.
Faces shining, hair still a little damp.
They perch on the couch, books and favourite toys close.
Dinner hour craziness is an escaping memory.
The lure of  a peaceful house beckons.
Little boys eyes are expectant as the Captain and I join them on the couch.
And then it is upon us.
One of the sweetest moments in the day.
As Giggle and Hoot serenade my boys to bed.

Hoots Lullaby

What a day its been, What a magic day Shhhh can you hear the moon is on its way.
It's time for all the stars, that sparkle in your eyes, to fly through the night and light up the sky.
What a day its been, laughing with our friends, now that the sun has sunk into its bed.
It's time for Hoot to go and watch over you at night, fill your head with sweet dreams under soft moon light.
And soon the smiling sun will rise again... and light the way to a bright new day.
"see you in the morning"... hoot hoot

Both the Batsman and the Bowler's eyes light up when Giggle and Hoot grace the screen and especially so during the "goodnight song".

And for me, the proudest mum in the world, it's just one of those wistful, sweet, sweet moments where I receive the gift of watching my children while they are enthralled in something they love.
Sweet, sweet love.

What are the sweetest moments in your day? Do you love Giggle and Hoot?
Image

The Captain and me

The Captain is the broad shoulders that sometimes carry all four of us.

The Captain is the one who always says "it's ok, it's gonna be ok".

The Captain is so very often the calm in the storm, the one who is happy to wrestle on the floor till there are giggles all round, the one who puts out the rubbish without complaint and empties the constantly overflowing dishwasher.

The Captain always reads my blog and tells me what he thinks. He reads your comments too and even though he is not a big blog reader or commenter, he is getting to know bits and pieces about this blogging community of ours.

Big things and some small things but all of it keeps everything chugging in our little home.

Sometimes when the "two of us" becomes the "three of us" and then the "four of us", the "two of us" can get a little bit lost in the traffic jam. We don't mean for that to happen, it just does. We have planned a little one night getaway in a couple of months time, just so we don't forget the "two of us".

So I just wanted to share a pic of my beautiful man and me (bad res pic - sorry!)

He's been having a bit of a tough week so send a bit of blog love to the Captain will you?

I want to go with her

 

They spent almost their whole lives together.

He, gruff, sometimes cranky but with a heart of gold beneath the bluster.
She, gentle, with a ready laugh and a finely tuned sense of the humour and ridiculousness of life.

They loved each other. It was always clear.

They raised a family. Two sons, one of them my father.
They worked, cared, grew vegetables and tended snapdragons and stocks and marigolds in their garden.
They welcomed and deeply loved four grandchildren.

There are cherished memories of vegetables in the garden, of trips to the royal show, of playground visits, tram rides and a thickly iced pink match filled with cream from the cake shop in Puckle Street.

Then came 1983 and with it cancer. Insidious, painful lung cancer. She hadn't smoked a cigarette in her life.

She struggled through treatments but the cancer spread and pain bristled cruelly all over her body. You could almost see it, creeping through, wreaking its destruction. Fucking cancer.

They came to 1984. Late May. She could fight no more. Palliative care would be her last tram stop. She lay there, unconscious, her bed surrounded with love and hope. He sat beside her, holding her hand, willing her to go on, but knowing she didn't have it in her. Much love, but little hope.

Next day. Etched forever. He fires a bullet from his boyhood shotgun through his brain. Kitchen floor, the worst discovery. He dies at midday.

She lives on, for another 17 hours. Not conscious but still breathing. Something within her knows it's time to let go. She dies peacefully.

Some months later, there is a note, found tucked inside his favourite gardening book. I don't remember the exact words but the message was clear.

"Forgive me, I want to go with her."

They loved each other. It was always clear.

Nan, wherever you are, Happy Mother's Day. I miss you and I wish you could have seen your great grandchildren. They are sunshine.

Pop, I love you and I miss you too. And I understand, I do.

Image

Weekend grateful - on the road

This week I am grateful for being on the road.
I am on the road to getting fit and fab after 3 weeks of healthier eating and much more exercise.
The scales have it - 3.3 kilograms gone. On the road.

Playing along with Lucy too. I really like the idea of drab 2 fab. It opens up all kinds of possibilities.


  
And this weekend our little cricket team is on the road too.
We are soaking up a lovely winter weekend at the beach. Warm house, rugged up kids, rosy cheeks, flannelette pyjamas, playing trains on the floor. I love my boys, so very much.

And as always grateful to Maxabella for the opportunity to pull some gratitude out of what is sometimes a bit of a quagmire!

Wordless Wednesday

Gone fishing

The Captain's father died this morning.
Suddenly.
He had been on a little holiday. He had done a spot of fishing in a beautiful coastal spot.
He got on a bus to travel toward home. He fell asleep. And then he died. Just like that.
All the other passengers got off the bus and then someone noticed that he was still sitting in his seat. Gone fishing.


The Batsman went to kinder this morning. We had only known about Pa for half an hour. The "how do you explain death to a child"question still hanging heavy.
The Batsman headed straight for the drawing table, his usual first starter.
I watched him. A quick drawing and he was off. Scuttling over to a game he had seen in a corner of the kinder.
A fishing game. With a couple of little fishing rods with a string and magnet on the end. Fish swam in a "pond" with paper clips stuck to their backs ready to be caught.
And the Batsman, he caught fish. Just like that.
The grandchild generation. Gone fishing.
                                           --------------------------------------------


He was a gentle man, the Captain's dad. He was one of those people about whom others say 'he doesn't have a mean bone in his body'. And he didn't.
He had his problems. The grog wreaked havoc on mind and body over the years. The pokies took their toll too. He wasn't a well man.
But he was gentle and kind. He was quiet but always had a little joke to tell or a trick to show the kids.


This Christmas just gone, he did something special and unexpected for the Batsman and the Bowler. He made their Christmas gifts. A truck and a cement roller, made out of wood, crafted with his hands and tools. They came emblazoned with the boy's names and decorated with stickers from the two dollar shop. It would have taken his shaky hands hours to make them.
They are beautiful and will be treasured across lifetimes.


Farewell Pa.
We will miss you.