The middle guy is 12..

This boy turned 12 yesterday, our middle guy.

Its our little tradition to talk about their birth stories on their birthday, and this one was something quite magically surreal.  I'm sure all the angels were smiling down upon us this night, because his birth was something of a dream.

He was ten days overdue and I'd been to visit my wonderfully wise Nan, mum to eleven, the day before labour started. I mentioned that I may have had a little show a couple of days ago but I wasn't too sure.  In her loving but very stern way, she told me I should be seeing my doctor about that and you don't just leave those things go.

While playing the waiting game, we took ourselves and our big 2yr old boy off to see his first movie. We had a relaxing late afternoon drive through the mountains and came home to fish 'n chips and Saturday night footy. Sitting there on the couch, I told Nick what Nan had said. He suggested that perhaps I should just go and get checked out, for peace of mind. So I did.  

I jumped in the car, took myself into the Royal Women's and waited a few hours to be checked over. They were quite happy that everything was as it should be and reassured me that the baby will come whenever it's ready.  So at 11:30 at night, back into the car I hoped and took myself home.

I was quietly creeping into bed beside Nick at midnight, he asked how I was and I said fine.  Right then we both heard 'POP', seriously heard it!  I'm not even sure what that pop was, but at that very moment my water broke!  Nick jumped on the phone to Mum, who must have been camped around the corner because it seemed like 5 minutes flat and she was knocking on our front door, while I scurried to the bathroom laughing and mopping up puddles as I went.

We arrived back at the hospital to find there was only one other woman admitted who had just given birth earlier that evening.  The reception desk had three delightful midwives sitting, drinking tea, knitting and welcoming us to the suite. They made us comfortable and sat to chat with us for a bit. Contractions were mild and not very close. In other birthing experiences with both the big and the littles guy, we've always been sent home, but considering we were the only ones there on this night, we were told to make ourselves at home and just holler if we needed anything.

We couldn't believe how calm and relaxed everything was, after quite a manic and rather scary first time round experience, it felt like the world had come to a halt for this very special moment in time. Nick chatted with all the lovely ladies, just waiting on this baby.  My contractions began to speed up a little and I could feel my body getting ready.  I took the opportunity to go to the loo just to cleanse, you know, and as I walked past the happy little group of smiling women, one called out "Are you sure you need to go, this is what the baby's head feels like and I don't want it to be born into the toilet!" I did wonder this, but I knew that as soon as I had cleared my bowels I'd be able to surrender to the birth.

I remember walking past the desk on my way back to our room, watching all the smiles and knitting and cups of tea, and thinking how blessed to have all of these people just sitting here, just waiting for me and this baby.  I was told to get some sleep now, it'll be a while yet and I will need all the rest I could get.  But just as I climbed up onto my bed, labour took hold.  The contractions quickly became more and more intense.  I looked at Nick and told him this was it.  He ran to the door and called to the midwives who casually popped in to check me over and reassure us it will be some time yet. But this baby was coming soon and I knew it. 

I grabbed hold of Nick's hand tightly, he buzzed the desk, and the next few minutes are a bit of a blur. I do remember that just as I thought I couldn't bare the pain a moment longer, there was all the encouragement from this incredible team of women and my beautiful strong husband to push just one more time.  From somewhere deep within came the strength, that primal force to push, so hard, and that was it.

At 4am, our little Jimmy was born. Within seconds a doctor appeared to examine us both (I remember it being a crazy long wait the first time) and everyone was all a buzz about how wonderful this was, and what a beautiful birth it was to be a witness to. 

By the time I'd showered and we were snuggled up in bed together, the real world had started again. More women in labour checking in and midwives moving hastily about.  Not a cup of tea or a pair of knitting needles in sight.

the way they wear their socks..

Today the love is overwhelming, and I have to write it down.

She sleeps beside me and I hear her kitten-like purr.  She reaches for me in her sleep, and my hand without consciousness meets hers.  Our love is so deep and so indescribable.  I feel her in every cell of my being.  

Just as I did with her brothers, but in case I haven't written it here before, I want to document this for their future.  For all of us, for them to read one day and for them to know that I felt it.  I felt what they feel for their babies.  I felt it in them.

It's true,when you grow and birth a child, your heart forever lives outside of your body.

She looks a certain way and she captures my breath.  I watch her, study her in awe, all in just a moment, and my heart completely overflows.  I'm besotted with her, still.  Her beauty, her perfectness, the way her hair tangles in the early morning, her sweet voice, her mind, the way she plays or sings along to a TV show or tells a story.

She feels closeness and connection when she buries her face into the nook of my neck.  Is it the sound of my heartbeat, the feel of my breathe, the touch of my skin?  I'm not sure.  But when she nuzzles in there, she purrs and sighs.  It's like home to her.  She's done this since the minute she was born and placed on my chest all sticky and warm, she went straight to that spot and buried in.

This love, this closeness is like nothing else.  

For all the drama and tantrums and plain shit hard days, this gentle togetherness blows all of it away! Every morning I feel this little being, she is a part of me.  She wakes and kisses my face with those soft sweet lips.  She sighs a contented sigh and says "I love you so much my mumma".  She shrinks into me, kneads my skin with her chubby fingers, sometimes an irresistible pinch, breathing deeply and with such comfort of being.

You know, if she hits the wrong spot or pinches too sharp I growl at her in my sleep haze, and she moves almost expectantly.  But she can't help it, she has to do it.  If she could crawl right back inside of me she would.  It's a closeness that can't be described, that mother child bond.

I wonder when it is that this feeling of being a part of you subsides.  I wonder when it is that they begin to feel secure and independent of you.  I don't remember for sure.

What I know is that those are connections and feelings I had with all four of my babies until they grew to have this Independence.  I know too, that it's because of such bonds that they are able to fall into my arms in times of happiness or despair.  It's the reason they creep up and hug me at random, tell me they love how I cook a meal, or thank me for some seemingly insignificant thing. It's also the reason they can completely loose their temper over incidents totally separate from us, say nasty things, be hurtful and cruel and just plain horrid! It's because they can.  Because I am their safe place.

I want to capture their every idea, the sound of their voices, the way they wear their socks or dressing gown or comb their hair.  I want to remember the way they play and love and laugh, or spend forever too long in the bathroom.  I'm certain the way they fight will be embedded into our minds for our lifetime, but these moments and feelings are so enormous and so very precious.

Like they say, "the days are long but the years are short".

Oh Lordy! I surrender to all the moments.  All the insignificant conversations, comments, quirky ways, hugs, fights and endless loves.  I wholeheartedly embrace this role as mother.  The good, the bad and the terrifying!

All I ever wanted was to be this, what I am right now.  Their Mum, and I am blessed.  I just hope and pray I can deliver, but I have a pretty fabulous wingman in my beautiful husband.  Actually, I might be the wingman.  Either way, we have it made with all this love.

standing back..

One day last week I had one of those parenting moments that keeps playing on through your mind. The fact that I keep thinking about it makes me question my judgement.  You know, when you wonder why you did what you did.

Is it because she is my fourth child and I've seen it all before?

Is it because I know her and what she can handle?

Is it because sometimes they need to be on the receiving end?

Or worst of all, Is it that I didn't want the other first-time mum to feel bad..at my own daughter's expense?

Last week, I watched on as my daughter was being hassled by your typical two year old.  She waited patiently for her turn on the shopping centre game.  Patiently! A huge achievement in itself, and I was proud.  Then, when the little boy stepped out she took her seat.  He decided she was not to touch anything, as two year olds do.  He pushed her hands away from buttons, babbled angrily and shouted "NO!"

She would acknowledge his protests with a coy tilt of her head and then continue on. He then grabbed hold of her hair. He grabbed it hard in his chubby little fist.  She held her head tight with both hands, her face wincing as he pulled.  I went to run and then stopped as the boy's mother bolted.

She scooped him up and told him "No!"  She pulled a fist full of Olive's hair from her toddler's hand and dropped it to the floor.  She was mortified and clearly embarrassed.  Olive watched on as the little boy cried.  She rubbed her head and continued playing.  She just kept playing, not a tear and not a word of complaint.

The mother dashed across to me apologising over and over, and I looked at Olive, she was happy.  I told the mother it was ok, "this is what babies do" and "don't worry, she's fine".  The mother said "I'm so sorry, that's her hair on the ground". I said "you know, its probably the knot I couldn't get out this morning. It's ok, she's fine".

Soon after, Olive and I sat down with our coffee and babycino.  I said to her "my darling are you ok?" She happily sipped her froth and replied "yes, he just wanted his turn."  I couldn't help but laugh at her diplomacy and nonchalance.

I question if my response, or lack there of, was inappropriate or inadequate.  I'm still not sure.  Truly at the time I just wanted to pick her up and hug her tight, but when she wasn't seeking my help I felt compelled to stand back.  I'm pleased she could handle it without my interference.  She did this well I think, and she was still happy to step over the clump of hair to follow the little boy onto the rides afterwards.

2014..on reflection

All of a sudden we are here in December!  Beach bags at the ready, alfresco dinners and sand between our toes..oh, yes please!

2014 is coming to a flying end, and I woke yesterday, the first day of summer, reflecting on the year that has been. 

My body tired, my mind weary and my heart a little heavy.  Its been a year of great loss, with the passing of two beautiful members of our extended family.  The sadness becomes a part of your everyday, but you don't always acknowledge that its there.  You worry about other family members and how they're feeling, if they're coping, the enormous weight of grief they must be carrying in their hearts.  Though there is comfort in the fact that our family is so big and so very wonderful. We are lucky.

Then in October, we welcomed my darling niece into the world.  My baby brother's first baby, what an absolute joy! Seeing my brothers become fathers, and watching our family grow is really something very beautiful.

Its been a year so busy and so distracted, that I feel changed.  Hopefully for the better, I'm not sure yet, my head is still spinning.  My mantra for this year has been 'let go', and boy, have I had to let go! Let go of everything being so perfect, let go of commitments that were not a priority, to not be as available to school as I would have liked, to not care so much about what everyone else might expect of me, or what they might think of my absence everywhere.

To let go this year has been my survival mechanism.  Sometimes for the better and if I'm honest, also to the detriment of this family and these little people that are my whole world.

I came across our very favourite christmas story book recently, it's tradition to read a story from it every night in the month of december, and a sudden realisation hit me like a tone of bricks, 'we haven't been reading bedtime stories! When did we stop reading bedtime stories??' I don't even remember!  I picked up that christmas book and we started that very night.

Ever so gradually, our priorities had shifted.  Work went to the top, managing the house close second, and everyone else fitting in the gaps.  I'm sad to say, that somewhere along the way I let go of the values I held most dear, being available to my family.  I could see it happening, too.  But trying to stay on top of everything else was completely consuming.  I was forgetting things, important things, life was spinning out of control.  Then I got really sick with a shocking flu.  My boys were so wonderful, offering to help with all kinds of things, giving me extra hugs, doing their best to behave and not fight (at least so they didn't think I could hear them).  Through endless fevers and aches I worked, got them to school and back, made dinner (of sorts) each night and cried, I cried a lot, at the craziness of it all.

After a week the fevers broke, and everything looked different.  The illness was gone and with it, the distorted way of living life I'd become accustomed to over the last few months. I can't ever get that time back, but I can make sure I do not let it happen again.  Remembering to be in the smallest of moments.  Sitting in silence.  Listening to my kids, and talking with them, not at them.

Of course, this time of year has a way of becoming manic, with all the tying up of loose ends, preparing for christmas, school books and uniforms for next year, and so many dates to remember. It's busy, but I will make lists, I'll plan ahead and I will not loose my way like that again.

A new clearer, brighter year is just around the corner, but for now I'm just looking forward to our christmas break and living each beautiful day with the blessings that surround me.

longed for moments of perfect harmony..they exist

Some days I feel completely overwhelmed by the love I have for these babies of mine.  

I live in a constant state of awe and amazement at who they are and what they know, how quickly they grow and how completely responsible I am for who they will become.  They challenge me every day, they surprise me every day, they frustrate and test me no end!

I yell too much, I'm grumpy too often, and I'm busy all of the time.  The challenging times are more frequent than the easy-breezy happy contented times. 

Longed for moments of perfect harmony are fleeting but they are there, more often than I realised, and its so important to recognise them and to treasure them.

Letting go of all the need to do's was my motto for this year, to relax and enjoy the moments.  It's a constant work in progress, but days like today when my little girl put her arms around me and kissed my chest with her soppy lips, I actually cried, the happiest tears and the fullest heart..

unwind..

its been a huge two weeks all round.

two weeks busy with jobs rolling in quickly, a birthday, of surf lessons, intensive swim lessons, and teething.

two weeks of great achievements and accomplishments by each of us.

a massive six month project completed and presented by the big boy (hear that huge sigh of relief from the mumma), the middle guy earned his pen license and received a star of the week award, the little guy's enthusiasm for writing kicking up a notch or two and loosing a forever wobbly tooth, the baby girl cutting yet another tooth and becoming way too adventurous in her rolling endeavours.  As for us, the busy season has begun, late nights, the juggling, the striving to maintain some kind of balance, and we are coping, mostly..for now.

so this morning we took ourselves out for a celebration breaky to acknowledge everyones successes, but we are tired, and some of us a little bit emotional, it was time to unwind.  A walk on the beach, some drawing in the sand, breathing in the sea air and basking in the warmth.  It's just what this little family needed today.

*photos by the mr.

on motherhood..

note blurred picture as a symbol of the newborn haze (also it's from my iphone) 

but it's the one I wanted to use for this post for all that it represents 

of those special, difficult, joyous and exhausting days. 

Motherhood, that's a big topic, huh!  

I'm writing this post, not to cover motherhood entirely, I'm no expert and the enormity of that is just way beyond me, argh the spectrum here is extreme to say the least!  I am writing it because my sister in law has just recently had her first baby.

As the big sister to my brother and mumma of four, I'd like to be able to help wherever I can.  To drop in the odd meal, have more than the odd cuddle of the newborn and to offer advice when it is sought. It's hard though, the offering of advice.  What I have come to realise after four babies and hearing other mumma stories over the years, is that we are forever learning and trying to find our way, and it changes from one child to the next.

What I want to tell this sweet, dedicated beautiful new mum, is that we are all just working it out as we go..still! Every child is different, and after every child each mother is different.  We all continue to grow and learn as each day dawns and each new phase begins.  The learning is endless.

There is no right or wrong.  There is only what works for you at the time.  If your newborn wants to feed constantly and you are able to accommodate, then do.  If you need to get things done and can't face another feed so soon, then look at other options.

All of our situations are so variable, they change all the time, especially with additional children to tend to.  But first time round, listen.  Listen to your baby.  Listen to your body.  Listen to your heart.  Listen and be a tune to what is happening around you and do what feels right, for you.

Some days you will do nothing more than sit and feed and hold your baby all day long.  Other days you will shower and cook a meal and maybe even leave the house!  It's all so unpredictable, but if you can, just appreciate each day for whatever it presents.  Don't have expectations and don't be disheartened when things don't go as you'd hoped.

Know you are doing a wonderful job on the good days and the bad.  Be kind to yourself, and know that none of us are experts, no matter how in control and well balanced we may appear.  None of us have all the answers, and none of us are in a position to judge or be judged.

We are mothers.  We have been given the greatest privilege to be doing the greatest job in the world. It's hard work, and believe it or not, it really does get harder the older they become, just like they say it does..and I'm only 12 years in!

Love them.  Listen to them.  Be there for them.  When people offer their words of wisdom, take only what works for you.  Enjoy the good days and the hard days, for those newborn days are over within the blink of an eye.  You know what, you will never be an expert and you will always question your ability, decisions and parenting style. Lets not even talk about the guilt!

What I'd like to say most sincerely from the depths of my heart, is welcome to motherhood you glorious, capable, wonderful woman!

...and I am here whenever you need, and for whatever you need, always x 

random happenings..

Its been so long since I posted random happenings around here.  I've found it difficult to sit and write my blog, even though there is a post being written in my head just about every night as I lie in bed. There's loads to say, and nothing all at the same time.  I'm hoping I find my groove again soon, I miss it.

Last weekend my parents came to stay, we celebrated fathers day with 2 of my 4 brothers.  For one, it was extra special because this was his first fathers day.  We welcomed my new nephew, Tex, to the family 3 weeks ago and he is divine. Dad came equipped with his chainsaw ready to work as always. Sadly, we had to cut down the big old willow out the front of our place.  A climbing favourite that was no longer safe. I've had people coming to collect trailer loads of branches to make use of, and I saved just a few for a simple wreath.

This little guy has had me in awe of his bravery and composure.  The mother of the year award will not be coming my way any time soon.  He was desperately in need of a haircut.  I clipper it myself, always, but I haven't made the time in months.  So amongst the after school madness last week, I decided it was time.  In my haste I started, straight up the middle of his head without the measure guard on. Yes, I did. 

I couldn't believe what I had done, and while trying very hard to keep calm, the middle guy comes out and screeches "What are you doing!! Are you making him bald!!", at which point this little guy totally, and understandably, flips out, while I try to fix the hideous mess.  It was traumatising for all of us.  A hair appointment was made and the best that could be done was done.  A hat has been worn ever since and most likely will be for another week at least.  We might find it a funny story in time. 

Spring arrived and the warmth in the air has been so energising.  I woke yesterday with sunshine streaming through the window and I couldn't get out of bed quick enough.  I hurried everyone out of the house and we walked to the beach to soak it in.

I was desperate to be out, feeling the sun on my skin, the crisp, fresh ocean air on my face.  The waves were amazing.  Loud and constant.  We could hear them roar way before we could see them, it was a perfect morning to be there.

These two wander and chat, and I noticed how much the middle guy has grown in the last couple of months. They are such good mates. They bicker of course, but they're the first at each others side when one of them is hurt or feeling sad. 

We sat to watch the big cargo ships, imagining what it would be like to be so far out at sea.  We watched the people out running and walking their dogs, and a man doing some kind of tai chi and meditation and I wanted to join him. 

The big boy climbed sand dunes and took some pictures for me in between.  He announced recently that he doesn't want to have his picture blogged or instagramed any more.  Sad but true, so be it.

We're more than halfway through the year already and I can't quite believe he will be at high school next year. He's excited and nervous all at once.  Suddenly there seems to be loads of stories flying around about what goes on at high school, and he's beginning to feel very anxious.  Times have been challenging to say the least, a post I've written that one day I might be brave enough to share.  We really need his secondary school experience to kick off in the most positive way. 

This little girl is the light of his life, and I suddenly realise why we have been blessed with her.

the winter sun shines and my heart overflows..

...all of a sudden you see the values you hold so dear in the hope of raising good people, come shining through like the winter sun.

In a simple gesture, a single moment, you witness the gentle love between brothers, and just like that, you know you're on the right track.

Last night we made pizza and snuggled down to watch 'the life of Pi'.  There was the usual niggling over who sat where, who has which cushion, enough blanket and the most leg room...he and I look at each other and we know we're both wondering the same thing...can we do nothing without this incessant banter?? 

Then suddenly we were all transfixed on the movie and loving every minute.  By the end, we were so captivated as the story was revealed, and the little guy had tears rolling down his cheeks as he tried to make sense of the sadness of it all.

His brothers looked at him and felt his hurt.  Quietly and without a word spoken, the middle guy reached for a tissue and handed it to his little brother..

And my heart filled to overflowing.

knots..

sometimes my tummy and my chest are so caught up in knots with all that is going on. This family we are raising sometimes feels like a tornado spinning around me. The chaos whirling further and further beyond my grasp.  I have to stop and remind myself to breathe, to be positive and to keep things in perspective.  

There is the parenting of a pre teen.  This has to be one of the hardest jobs in the world, and then we still have the actual teen years ahead of us.  They say when your babies are just babies, that it only gets harder, and its true, it does.  Every single day is a challenge.  It can be mental and emotional torture at times.  I'm forever analysing my parenting ability, am I too hard, too soft, are my values all wrong, should I just let up a little, but then if I do, what kind of people will we be raising?  Endless days of bickering, the nastiness, the condescending tone, the intolerance of just about anyone or anything. As parents, we're forever the bad guy, both of us. The day ends and I wonder if we'll all just wake up and it'll be like a fog has lifted, and suddenly he'll be that beautiful, thoughtful, considerate boy he once was.  Or have we completely lost control and is it just going to get worse..

There is the six year old of whose tantrums and temper I have made mention of in many a blog post over the last 4 years.  Shouldn't they be over by now?  We've never given into him when he's tantrumed, not ever.  There has always been consequences for him, but he still does it.  His temper flys out of control just so suddenly and there is often no cooling it down until it's run it's course.  Then he emerges, sorry, cuddly and back to his sweet adoring loving self.  It's all over much more quickly now, but you still never know when it's going to happen and there's a constant tightness in my chest, that walking on egg shells feeling because its so unpredictable.

There is the happy go lucky grade 3 boy whose carefree world is slowly becoming bogged down with commitments and expectations.  Grade 3 is such a big change.  Middle school equals higher standards, harder work, more homework, and little time for that happy go lucky attitude.  He doesn't like it much.  His weekends can't come around soon enough.

There is the new baby.  Thats the easy bit.  She's amazing, content, placid and she still sleeps a lot!  She just fits in.  I tend to her amidst all the crazy and she's happy. 

There is running a business, which my husband pretty much does single handed at this point.  I'm just his faithful assistant.  I step in and do my part as required, and then it's back to being mother, housekeeper, homemaker. There just isn't the brain power to be anymore than that right now.

We have an exciting, and very happy celebration coming up and we can't wait.  A mini holiday to somewhere warm and gorgeous to hang out with my brothers and their girls, and we're counting the sleeps.  I'm hoping that having my boys spend some time with their uncles will help, I'm hoping my man and I might sneak out on a date and I'm hoping it's just the trick to loosen all these knots, if only for a little while.. 

and here we go...

I'm being completely controlled by pregnancy hormones, they've taken over the rational side of my brain and I'm taking a crazy ride on that dreaded emotional roller coaster!  Tears welling up in my eyes over nothing, snapping at my gang over everything, and a desperate need to feel things are in control and in order around here.

Alls great health wise, feeling good, heavy but good.  This little bubba is super hyper and moves constantly, which I love.  I talk to it when it moves, it's like I have company all day long, of course anyone looking on would think I was a bit crazed talking to myself, but we're bonding this bub and I.

The lead up to Christmas is always so busy and gets me a bit wound up, there's so much to do towards the end of year and I feel the need to eliminate stuff, just random stuff that we seem to have everywhere.  This year it's even more overwhelming.  With the business, the new baby, and christmas I'm on a Spring cleaning frenzy!! I've wacked a heap of things on line and sold them overnight, that's actually quite addictive and very cleansing! I've thrown away anything that lies in my path (lego beware!) booked the scrap metal guy to do a pick up and hired a skip for the weekend.

Amidst, this crazed clean out, there's life, the everyday stuff that you can't just eliminate.  Staying in tune with our boys, how they're feeling about all the changes going on around here, how this is affecting them, not to mention what's going on in their own worlds.  The big boys had a big year with lots  trying times but it all seems to be on the improve.  He wanted to apply for the chance to join hundreds of other 11yr olds from all around the world on a camp to India, and while I was excited about such an opportunity and experience for him, the quiet relief I feel that he missed out is like a weight off my shoulders and my heart.  India, for goodness sake! All I could think of was Slum Dog Millionaire! Today he's been short listed and has an interview for a school leadership position as one of next years grade 6 students.  I'm so proud of him just to have been short listed.  If this is as far as it goes I couldn't be prouder.

The middle guy, he's had an unusual year.  I can't say grade two has been his best year, in fact if it wasn't for everything else this would have been the perfect year for us to hitch up a van and take that trip around the country, he certainly would have learnt a lot more than I think he has in class.  But he does love it.  He's a cruiser, and this year has certainly been a cruise.  Emotionally though, he takes things in his stride a little too much.  He's easy to overlook because he handles it, accepts it and gets on with it.  I need to make more time for that one.

The little guy has had his best year yet.  His tempers are lessening and he's thriving at school.  To think how worried I was about him entering the big wide world of school.  He's super excited about this new baby and being a big brother.  He kisses and hugs my belly constantly, and is completely in love with baby already.        

It's all ramping up big time.  I knew it would, and I've tried to prepare myself but boy oh boy, as the pressure of starting a business and learning all there is to learn builds,  it's all I can do to keep my head above water right now and it's only going to get harder.  Of course, it's all going to be worth it in the long run, I know that too.

..excuse the quality of the above pic, I had to download it directly from IG as blogger says I've used up all my photo quota??


  

courage..

How do you put an old head on young shoulders, I know I can't, but I wish I could.

One of our boys came home from school on Friday, holding it together just long enough to get through the door before he burst into tears.  It's been going on for some time, one particular child who knows just what to say, to have those words hit right where it hurts most.

Actually, his problem isn't directly with our boy, well it never used to be as they'd always been friends. He constantly picks on another whom our boy is good friends with.  He'll regularly target this boy and try to get others to do the same.  It's always been verbal and mental bullying before.  I've been concerned for this boy and wondered if his parents are aware of what their son is dealing with each day.

Gradually the bully has turned against our boy because he refuses to stop being this other child's friend. He's tried to talk to him, to work out their differences, but it goes nowhere. I've always been grateful that our son comes home and tells us about it though we are trusted to never, ever say anything to anyone about it ever!

He wants to deal with it himself, and so we listen, we give advice, and we help him to deal with the constant antagonising.  There have been several times when I've decided that enough was enough, and we as parents need to intervene, but he refuses, and I don't want to loose his trust.  I don't want him to stop talking to us about things, at least we know what's going on, right?

On Friday though, this bully called upon another child whom our son refuses to name, and together they had our son on the ground and kicked him repeatedly, somehow not hard enough to bruise him physically, but that's not the point.

When they stopped and our son asked why they were doing this, the bully said its because he's still friends with the other boy.  We are shocked that this happened.  Shocked that it turned physical.  And so, so angry.

We know the only thing to do is to intervene, but he begged and pleaded through tears that we don't, that he can handle it, that we've taught him resilience and he can take it!  Resilience.  This is what we teach our children.  How do we teach them not to be frightened of doing the right thing and reporting it, that it won't stop until he does?

We've tried our best to assure him that as soon as we bring all of this to the attention of the school and/or the child's parents it will stop.  He told us that we have to understand  if we report this he won't have a single friend as a result, and he doesn't want to risk that.

What do you do, break his trust, risk alienating him, have him withdraw and never open up to us again?  I hate this.  I hate seeing him so stressed at bedtimes, regular sleepless nights, frustration building at home until he explodes, his belief in himself and his decisions compromised.  None of this is ok, and we can't allow it to continue, but dealing with it is going to be one very delicate task.  

We've commended him on his extraordinary courage, told him how proud of him we are that his reason for not defending himself and fighting back is because he says two wrongs don't make a right.  What we also need him to understand is that sometimes it also takes great courage to be brave and to report an incident like this.  He went to bed, tears rolling onto his pillow as he ponders that..

that end of term madness..

It started as one of those mornings where everything coasts along, everyone does their thing and you think you're travelling well.

A load of washing out to dry, brekky dishes done, lunches packed, when suddenly, just as the big boy heads out the door to ride himself to school, he says...

"Bye Mum! Oh, and by the way, do you think you could just pick up an exercise book on your way to school because I need it first thing this morning.."

This might have been nice to know on Friday! I was in a good mind to say he'd have to make do, but I knew this would have all kinds of snowball effects so just gave a stern talking to and said I'd drop it in to his class before 9.

Then as we're bustling out the door the middle guy strips off his dressing gown to reveal his shorts and t.shirt, no school jumper and 8 degrees outside!  

"Where is your jumper?" I patiently ask.  His reply with a shoulder shrug "I don't know, at school somewhere..."

So after the emergency stop off at the newsagent for the all important exercise book, we're straight into the stinky lost property box at school.  No sign of his jumper but I come out with an armful of other kids jumpers I pass over to grateful parents on my way to find my own freezing child, who doesn't seem too fazed at all.  

That is until the bell goes.  He lines up and suddenly says, panic stricken.."Mum, you didn't put my costume for the dress rehearsal in my bag!!!!" 

I didn't put it in because I didn't know about it because you didn't bring home your diary (again) for me to read that note!  Was what I wanted to say, but didn't in front of his entire class.  Again, I considered telling him he'd have to go without, but didn't think that fair on the poor music teacher desperately trying to co-ordinate over 500 kids for the school concert this Thursday night.

So home I dash to grab his costume, back to his class, where he sits wearing his missing jacket.  Miracles can happen!  Just out of curiosity, I grab the diary off his table to see that note I'd missed and what do you know, it says..

'FULL DRESS REHEARSAL FOR PREP TO GRADE TWO'.  

Bugger!  The little guy needs his costume too.  I can just imagine his panic as his teacher at this very moment would be asking all the children to bring their costumes in and put them on their tables.

Madly, I dash home again, grab his costume and race back to school.  I tell you, walking back up that hill to the car again is certainly taking it's toll by now! I've clearly been slack and lost some fitness with this little bubba growing, and I'm reminded to get myself back into walking with this pregnant belly of mine weighing me down more than it should be.

But you know what, as annoyed as I was at all the running back and forth and the disorganisation of this morning, seeing the sheer relief on all three of those little faces made me smile.

I was grateful that I could do all this running about, and grateful that they could rely on me.  Though there will be some serious discussion this evening about preparation and responsibility, I can assure you!

odds..

There's a story I feel the need to tell.  I just have to get it out of my head.  Some might relate, some I might offend, and if I do I apologise. But this is an experience I want to share.  I just do.

For months I've been planning 'the announcement' post.  One filled with cheer and happiness and blissful joy. This is all of those things, with a touch of reality thrown in.

We are having a baby.  Yes, it is joyful beyond words! We are super excited about it and feeling completely in awe of such a blessing.

This is the story so far.  Please bare in mind that as far as we know all is perfectly fine, but I write this based on my state of mind throughout...

The day I found out, admittedly I was in shock.  Worried about the impact this new little being was going to have on our family, our life.  But it's a baby! How could I be anything but thrilled!

My husband hugged me so tight.  He was happy.  Shocked, a little anxious but happy, and so excited he was already picturing those squidgy cheeks and that new born baby smell, oh that smell..

Our boys embraced the news, almost expecting it.  Asking questions, preparing their little minds, setting aside toys to keep special and making sleeping arrangements.

Then came the Doctors visit, to make everything official.  In my mind, to make necessary appointments and discuss the pregnancy generally. I was still a little shocked, but joyful and excited.  What I didn't expect, and perhaps I should have, perhaps I was being naive, but what came next, to me, was a barrage of statistics and doom based on my age alone!  Things did not look good.

I was shown graphs and figures and given pamphlets to read because "we just have to make you aware of the risks.."  I was referred to speak with a midwife in pregnancy care who might be able to discuss this with me further and cover general concerns or questions I might have.  So I went along, hoping to be put at some kind of ease, for things to be made clearer, put into perspective.  But no, it seems the facts were clear, more doom and gloom and statistics.

When I got to my car I cried so hard.  I cried for this baby, who in my mind, we had little hope of having without abnormalities.  I cried for my breaking heart and for how sad this was going to be for our family.  I called my husband who tried to make sense of what these statistics were, where do they come from and upon what facts are they based?  The logical questions you ask, which I didn't.  It was really all very straight forward.  These are just the facts.

After that, it didn't really matter what he said to console me, to help me see reason and focus on the possibility that there may in fact be nothing wrong, that we may have a perfectly healthy baby.  There was nothing I could do but hope and pray.  I booked in for the 1st trimester screening.  I just have to be strong and positive until I knew more.  But emotionally, I'd already detached.  I couldn't think about the future, imagine our life with this new baby, because what if it didn't happen.  I couldn't bare to think of the pain.  I would go through the motions of day to day.  My little people talking about the baby, thinking of names.  My husband touching my tummy so lovingly.

Being my 4th pregnancy, my body was already changing.  My belly was growing and at 10 weeks I looked close to 5 months.  So hiding it and keeping it to ourselves until we were certain was difficult.  We had to tell people, physically it was so obvious.  For those of my dear friends I haven't told, I'm sorry, I just haven't been able to make those calls.  I have been a bit numb to peoples congratulations, putting on  the happy   face I should have, the one I longed was real.  I'd agree it was wonderful and, yes, we are very excited.  But all the while my head was thinking about how to tell everyone when it all goes wrong.

I suppose what I'm trying to get across here is that the delivery of and emphasis placed on those statistics needs to be very clearly thought out.  You can't just share these facts and not expect some emotional turmoil.  Maybe I re-acted differently to most.  I don't usually see the dark side of anything.  This has been torturous.  Irrational maybe, that this has been my reaction to such information.  Maybe its because I'm older (40 by the way) and wiser and realise just how miraculous it is that I've been given 3 perfectly healthy babies already.  Who was I to expect this could happen a 4th time.  Who did I think I was to be so deserving.

After a couple of weeks waiting, and regular phone calls chasing the results to the 1st trimester screen, they still weren't in.  I had my first appointment at the pregnancy care unit (I've had all my babies in the public system, I've like it, it's always worked for me considering I'd never had any complications).  The midwife I was seeing was lovely.  She asked about the results and went to track them down when I told her I was still waiting.  She left me in the hands of her trainee to go through general paperwork.  My husband wasn't with me at this appointment.  I didn't even think of planning for him come.  From memory it was just a 'welcome', check blood pressure, urine and give you some information on what to expect when you're expecting kind of visit.

When the midwife came in with the doctor and the doctor's trainee (it's a training hospital, I'd forgotten that) there were 4 people in the room, and me alone without my husband.  After doing loads of my own research during the last couple of months I was bracing myself.  I understood that being 40 I may be at some risk, so I was prepared to hear this..I thought.  As soon as the doctor sat down, she went through the basic facts I already knew inside out based on statistics and told me that the chances of me having a baby with abnormality is 1:147....

I don't really know what she said in detail after that except that low risk was anything above 1:250 so I was thinking I was quite high.  When I burst into tears and uncontrollable sobs, she did say that I should keep in mind that I could be one of the 146 people who have a healthy baby.

As the results had taken so long, I had missed the opportunity to have a CVS to investigate in more detail early on, and if I wanted to go ahead with further testing I would need to wait until 16weeks to have the Amniocentesis. I then have to wait a further 2 weeks for those results, making the baby around 18 weeks and if anything serious is found and our decision was to terminate, if in fact we had that choice, I would need to go through a normal birth at this stage.

The doctor tried to be sympathetic and handed me back to the midwife.  She was kind, and doing her best to offer comfort.  She made appointments for my next visits and talked a little about their birthing suite, and how lovely it'll be to have my three little helpers and on and on. But all I could think was what does any of this matter? Why are we making these appointments and talking about the birth when it might not happen that way at all?!

I could hardly breathe.  I couldn't wait to get out of there.  I felt so hot and sweaty and I just wanted to cry out loud!  When finally I got back to my car, the crying was hard and loud and the ache in my heart was almost too much.  And all I could think was that I would never, ever have considered or allowed this baby to be conceived knowing that this could happen.  My husband had been trying to contact me all this time but I hadn't heard the phone.  I had to pull myself together.  I had to call him and tell him.  I had to be brave and change my mindset. Either way, healthy or not healthy, I have to enjoy this pregnancy.  It is the last.  I want to love this baby and give it every hope.  I need to be happy and positive and not stressed.

When I got home my own doctor called with the test results.  I said thank you but I already received them in my pregnancy care appointment that morning.  Fortunately, she wanted to go through them with me anyway and went on about this and that and 'so it all looks pretty good'.  I was so confused. She said my risk sat at 1:256.  This was above the cut off point, although she said the cut off was 1:300.  Still, better than before.  It turns out that the figure I was given earlier was only half of the test, it hadn't factored in the combined blood tests.

While I feel enormous relief and legitimate hope, I have serious concerns about how women are given this list of 'facts and stats'.  I know they have to make you aware, but shouldn't this be approached with a certain amount of care and council.  And perhaps before blurting out all these figures, they should also have some background information on the mother to be too.  Her health status, history, something??

I do not take for granted that this baby will be perfect, we still don't know for sure, who ever does!  But what I do know, and have to take some comfort from, is that I come from pretty good stock.  I'm not kidding myself, I know this doesn't count for everything and things can still go wrong, unexplained, whatever will be will be.  But, yes, I come from a good line of breeders (my family is huge!), we were born to do this.  Mothering and having babies is in our DNA, we're good at it.  We love pregnancy, we don't get sick during pregnancy, how lucky! Several women in my family have had perfectly healthy babies after 40, my beautiful mum included.

I'm fit, I'm healthy, I rarely get sick, I've never abused my body, I've never suffered illness and I've only ever been in hospital to give birth.  What about those odds?  Surely it's got to count for something..

I have to believe that it does.

eliminate..

When life gets busy and a little (a lot) overwhelming, I find myself eliminating the things that would normally occupy my daily thoughts and 'to do' lists.  I tend not to run around fraught, trying to cram in the zillion too many things to do, even though those things exist, they unconsciously get pushed to the back in some kind of manageable order of priority.  Some I suppose never get air time and just fall by the wayside, not forgotten but not done.

The part of me that deals with the 'busy' kind of shuts down, or maybe takes control is a better way of looking at it.  I think it's a strategy for coping with the big stuff.  My brain switches into survival mode and this way I can manage the most important things first.

So much of the big stuff is consuming me right now, yet ridiculously I find myself extremely calm and sometimes even with hours to spare, but I don't start something new to fill in the time.  I've eliminated the not necessary so that all I'm focusing on is keeping this little family and home running.  This is the most important stuff after all!

Helping little people to navigate their way through playground politics.  Being aware of the individual needs of three very different little boys, they all have their own big stuff going on too.  Making time to hear them, nurture their bruised spirits and share their triumphs is not always an easy feat with so many other life distractions.

Then there's my man.  Big is almost an understatement for whats going on in his world at the moment.  As much as I try to be available to him, to listen, support, love, I'm sure I'm not doing enough.  He's strong and capable and I take for granted that his own coping mechanisms are all in check.

What keeps us both positive, for the most part, is knowing what is just ahead.  We are coming to the end of a chapter and preparing to begin a new and very exciting one.  In just a couple of months more, we'll be working together (eek!) running our own business and following dreams.  Things will be very different.  I'm sure it's going to take some time for us to find our feet, but when we do, life is going to be pretty darn great!

My hubby will be saying goodbye to corporate, a life of travel, of playing the game, of forever feeling compromised.  I'll be filling those spare hours working pretty much full time from home where I will still be available if the boys are sick, or to help out at school on all those special days.

So until then, I make time to breathe, I eliminate the not necessary and brace myself for the future...

lately...

we've been baking bread, discovering allergies and trying very hard to feed our family well with unprocessed,  homegrown, delicious food. It's the most satisfying feeling as a parent, knowing that you are providing your family with the good stuff.  Once we get to the bottom of the allergy issue it'll be much easier, but it sure is nice to see our little people enjoying everything we're making and not feeling at all like they are missing out on all the yummy stuff..

we've been spending time... 

just hanging about... 

we've been celebrating a never ending birthday...still! 

we've been visiting nan & pop's, a favourite place on earth... 

sewing heat bags with nan to keep us cosy on these cold winter nights... 

we've been climbing trees (always climbing trees)... 

and building bonfires with uncles, sharing stories, dreams and plans for the future..

what have you been up to lately?

days like these..

it started early, lying in bed I could hear the huffing & puffing from the little guy.  Something wasn't going right for him and it was only 6.30am!  But it was freezing, so I snuggled further down under flannel sheets & let the sounds of pouring rain drown out the agitated huffy, puffy noise.. 

All of a sudden it was 7 o'clock.  In comes the middle guy fully dressed and ready for school.  "I've been making some alterations to my Lego model, I think its definitely ready to enter into the competition now, do you have your camera..?"  Oh God! I bury myself further under the covers now as I realise the entries were due 2 days ago!! So, so bad. Bad, bad mother!

About to rise and face it all, but clinging to that flannel just a moment longer, in comes the big boy.  Mildly hysterical, trying very hard to hold it together and speak in a reasonable manner, but can't, blurts out that its raining, he doesn't have a fleecy jacket "just that other jacket that I hate wearing, and am I supposed to wear tracksuit pants to this thing, cause I don't have any school ones, and anyway I'm not doing it!!"...and good morning first born.

In comes the little guy, all teary and red faced.  Up I get, time to go in one crises at a time.  He says he doesn't want to go to school anymore, he hates it there. I kneel down to him, hug him tight and say "what do you mean you don't want to go anymore?? You mean that place you get to go everyday, learn loads of new things, make fairy bread, play with lizards, win Star of the Week??!!" He smiles, hugs me back and off he goes to get ready for school.  Done. One down two to go..

Time to face up to the middle guy, who's already downstairs making his breaky, happy as Larry,  thinking models finished a trip to Lego Land is on the horizon, life's good!  I can't burst his bubble, and by the sound of the ranting coming from the big boy, I have more pressing matters to address..

It's the inter-school cross country today and he's flipping out, not making any sense.  He did so well to earn a place and now suddenly he's out.  Not going!  I try to be gentle, but I know if I pamper too much he will assume I'm fine with it and he won't go.  So I push, just a bit.  Remind him of how thrilled he was when he placed.  How hard it was to do that and how proud he should feel.  How wonderful it is to be representing your school..."Fine!!" he says "so you just want me to go and make a fool of myself then...!" 

So, I'm talking this through, packing lunches, listening to the little guy read in the background, washing dishes, making breakfasts for the ones who don't do it themselves, tending to the washing machine, thumping out of balance, and I crack.  "Are you planning to run the course with your pants down or on your head?! That would be making a fool of yourself! No, you're not.  You're in this because you worked hard & deserve to be there.  It doesn't matter if you don't win!! Just go and do it and have fun!!"  Yes, can you hear the encouragement in my words there.  I was trying, but it didn't come out well.

Fortunately, in comes Hubby.  Oh thank God you're here!! Quiet words are spoken between father and son, and suddenly he's back in.  The cross country will go ahead!

Days like these make me feel very lucky I'm not doing this on my own.  He's the voice of reason around here, weaving his magic on these boys.

The big boy comes to hug me as he heads out the door, "You're not going to come and cheer are you?"  he asks gently.  "No, I won't.  I won't be there.  Is that ok with you..?" is my broken-hearted reply.  It was my only plan today, but seeing the relief on his face assures me its right not to go.

I still have to tell the middle guy I let him down.  Urghh,  I feel sick about it, look at him up there, wishing upon a dandelion to win..