Little Brother is not so little any more. We just celebrated his 4th birthday in style, with 15 children invited to Knights, Dragons and Princesses Party. The boys spent months planning the decorations, and by the time the actual party came he had changed his mind - He wanted to be a saber tooth tiger, not a knight, no princesses were allowed to come (well, perhaps, he said, only bad princesses!) and no-one was allowed to dress up. He relented when he opened his first present of the day which happened to be a knights outfit complete with enormous sword.
It was his first real party, last few years we've had just had cake with a couple of kids called in the last minute - the rent a crowd type birthday - so he was quite overwhelmed with the presents - 'More Presents!' He kept exclaiming ' But I've got enough presents! I don't need any more!'
He is a man with his own mind these days, and its a wonderful thing to behold as he develops the language to share his complex and unique thought processes.
His latest fascination is the troll from 3 Billy Goats Gruff, who has been given a new twist in Julia Donaldsons latest book - a very popular birthday present. The troll really wants to catch a goat and make a nice goat stew. This has caught his imagination and is now his No.1 Goal in Life. He wants a gun and bullets and has also been suggesting a trip to the library to get a book on how to make bow and arrows. I told him about his uncles farm complete with goats to shoot, and
guns to shoot them with, so he is planning his next farm holiday with major excitement..
'if the stew smells yucky, I won't eat it.' He says. 'But sometimes food smells yucky but tastes yummy, ' He continued.
This morning we a had a long conversation about pig hunting, as he was wearing his belt, which is to hold his knife and his gun in. He is definitely growing up.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Fine line between fantasy and reality
I am completely fascinated with the way that children, as they grow and learn, absorb information from everyone and everything around them. Input floods in and they make their own individual often sensational connections and conclusions, building up their own picture of how this world works. I have been teaching myself not to just tell them the answers to stuff, but ask them my favourite question - How do you think it works? (Thanks to Play Centre, where I learned this cool albeit simple idea). However sometimes it gets...tricky.
Little brother decided he was a bit scared of eating blackberries, after an unfortunate tummy bug hit him right after eating a lot of them. (I'll spare you the details of what the car looked like). I tried to explain that it wasn't the berries that had made him sick, it was a tummy bug, and his tummy got rid of the bug by getting rid of everything in it, and that's why he was sick. After a few moments thought, he said 'Yeah, I think it was a slug. It went down here (gesturing nose) and into my tummy and made me sick.'
'Well, No - 'I tried to explain-' I don't think it was a slug, but a tiny bug so small you can't see it, you need a microscope to see it. Those sorts of tiny bugs can make you sick.'
But he wasn't convinced. A few minutes later he said -
'Mum, I think the slug went into my brain and made a nest'.
Oh, dear.
Big Brother we have noticed oftens blurs the line between fantasy and reality. He composed a beautiful and moving prayer the other morning at school - all about his Dad who had been caught in the Tsunami in Japan, and was in hospital in Japan. I expect in a prayer session where's there's a little bit of one-up-man-ship involved, it was really impressive.
'Is he ok? his teacher asked.
'NO, he's in hospital, in Japan!' he re-iterated.
His teacher gave him the benefit of the doubt and the class all prayed. Hopefully those prayers were helpful for someone actually in that tragic situation. And she then checked with me.
That night we had a chat about the importance of telling the actual truth (particularly when dealing with prayers and the all-knowing entity), and the difference between a story and a fact.
Oh dear.
Little brother decided he was a bit scared of eating blackberries, after an unfortunate tummy bug hit him right after eating a lot of them. (I'll spare you the details of what the car looked like). I tried to explain that it wasn't the berries that had made him sick, it was a tummy bug, and his tummy got rid of the bug by getting rid of everything in it, and that's why he was sick. After a few moments thought, he said 'Yeah, I think it was a slug. It went down here (gesturing nose) and into my tummy and made me sick.'
'Well, No - 'I tried to explain-' I don't think it was a slug, but a tiny bug so small you can't see it, you need a microscope to see it. Those sorts of tiny bugs can make you sick.'
But he wasn't convinced. A few minutes later he said -
'Mum, I think the slug went into my brain and made a nest'.
Oh, dear.
Big Brother we have noticed oftens blurs the line between fantasy and reality. He composed a beautiful and moving prayer the other morning at school - all about his Dad who had been caught in the Tsunami in Japan, and was in hospital in Japan. I expect in a prayer session where's there's a little bit of one-up-man-ship involved, it was really impressive.
'Is he ok? his teacher asked.
'NO, he's in hospital, in Japan!' he re-iterated.
His teacher gave him the benefit of the doubt and the class all prayed. Hopefully those prayers were helpful for someone actually in that tragic situation. And she then checked with me.
That night we had a chat about the importance of telling the actual truth (particularly when dealing with prayers and the all-knowing entity), and the difference between a story and a fact.
Oh dear.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Social Secretary
As the boys get older there is less demand for such motherly chores as bottom wiping and food mulching and more demand for me in a social secretary kind of way. I seem to spend a crazy amount of time planning and executing their social lives.
Take or example the other weekend where Little Brother had been invited to THREE birthday parties. I'm not being ungrateful, they love parties and you know, it's nice he gets invited to such things....but it did involve a fair amount of running around. Actually No.1 Dad did the running around, as I was uncharacteristically busy with my own socialising and a first aid course. So, off they went. By the second party Little Brother must have been feeling a bit weary half way through as he was found asleep on the stairs! He was popped into bed, then woken for the cake. When I asked him later, if he'd got a bit tired, he denied all knowledge of the event. 'I thought about having a sleep, but then I decided to just keep playing'.
Then they have both become big fans of the play date. Can I go to someones house? Can he come and play at our house? Its never ending, and while it's nice to know they are sociable and have friends, it will be a relief when they have their own phones, cars and organise themselves. Although I guess that will bring with it a whole new set of worries - I'll be relegated from social secretary to Facebook stalker.
Take or example the other weekend where Little Brother had been invited to THREE birthday parties. I'm not being ungrateful, they love parties and you know, it's nice he gets invited to such things....but it did involve a fair amount of running around. Actually No.1 Dad did the running around, as I was uncharacteristically busy with my own socialising and a first aid course. So, off they went. By the second party Little Brother must have been feeling a bit weary half way through as he was found asleep on the stairs! He was popped into bed, then woken for the cake. When I asked him later, if he'd got a bit tired, he denied all knowledge of the event. 'I thought about having a sleep, but then I decided to just keep playing'.
Then they have both become big fans of the play date. Can I go to someones house? Can he come and play at our house? Its never ending, and while it's nice to know they are sociable and have friends, it will be a relief when they have their own phones, cars and organise themselves. Although I guess that will bring with it a whole new set of worries - I'll be relegated from social secretary to Facebook stalker.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Morning Wake Up Call
Mum! He's got a piece of lego stuck up his nose!
was the call I woke up to the other morning. It certainly got my attention as I leapt out of bed and rounded the corner to find the yeller - Big Brother - looking very excited and the lego inhaler - little Brother - looking very sheepish. And sneezy.
Obviously the lego was irritating his inner linings cause it kept making him sneeze - but not hard enough to dislodge the block.
What ? How? Why? - these questions left my mouth unfinished and unanswered...who knows why a 3 year old does these things? Certainly not the 3 year old, and they cannot be expected to understand the adult logic of why we do not stick lego up our noses.
Big Brother kindly tried to explain ' He had it sitting in his hand and he sniffed it up! By accident!'
Little Brother was remarkably calm, despite the sneezing and the drama, and tried to get it out by poking a finger up the nostril in question a few times. Which helpfully pushed the lego piece even further in.
So, with Dad holding Little Brother (down), I found my tweezers and managed to encourage the small circular brown snotty lego brick out of the small pink quivering nostril. Little Brother was very brave even with his Brother jumping about behind me yelling ' This is so GROSS! ' and ' I can't believe it! I can't watch! THis is SO gross!'
After all the drama was over we had a small discussion about how we never put toys or things (that aren't for food or medical purposes, I nearly added, then just left it at 'things') into the various holes in our bodies. Lesson learnt, I hope.
was the call I woke up to the other morning. It certainly got my attention as I leapt out of bed and rounded the corner to find the yeller - Big Brother - looking very excited and the lego inhaler - little Brother - looking very sheepish. And sneezy.
Obviously the lego was irritating his inner linings cause it kept making him sneeze - but not hard enough to dislodge the block.
What ? How? Why? - these questions left my mouth unfinished and unanswered...who knows why a 3 year old does these things? Certainly not the 3 year old, and they cannot be expected to understand the adult logic of why we do not stick lego up our noses.
Big Brother kindly tried to explain ' He had it sitting in his hand and he sniffed it up! By accident!'
Little Brother was remarkably calm, despite the sneezing and the drama, and tried to get it out by poking a finger up the nostril in question a few times. Which helpfully pushed the lego piece even further in.
So, with Dad holding Little Brother (down), I found my tweezers and managed to encourage the small circular brown snotty lego brick out of the small pink quivering nostril. Little Brother was very brave even with his Brother jumping about behind me yelling ' This is so GROSS! ' and ' I can't believe it! I can't watch! THis is SO gross!'
After all the drama was over we had a small discussion about how we never put toys or things (that aren't for food or medical purposes, I nearly added, then just left it at 'things') into the various holes in our bodies. Lesson learnt, I hope.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
The perils of overpopulation
7 Billion people on the planet and 7 caterpillars (and counting) on our swan plant. Like Earth, it is heaving with fat little fuzzy nibblers, gradually eating the one thing that sustains their existence.
One fat cat jumped ship last week, and humped its way over to a neighbouring hebe. He chewed on his new host for a day then settled down for a lengthy sleep/meditation on the miracles of self transformation. Its never to late to change our footprint, it seems.
Every day the children and I find ourselves out at the plant, checking out for the new caterpillars, looking at the destruction and marvelling at the chrysalis, hanging there glistening with dew drops. Its such a lovely conversation starter - on life and death and benefits of eating your greens.
Big Brother has been oogling the chrysalis, willing the butterfly to burst out. Little brother has been seeing how close he can get to wiping past the plant on his bike. I cannot bring myself to commit caterpillar genocide, to nobly save the strong to continue the species and all that. Little Miss doesn't have the same concerns, she likes to poke 'em. She doesn't mean to hurt them of course, but I hear her out there squealing with delight as she spots them with her pointy finger 'Doh! Doh!'.
Lets hope we get a couple of butterflies to flutter by us, and a few seed pods left at the end of the season of feasting to plant next year. Pity we can't just save a few bits of dirt and grow another planet too.
One fat cat jumped ship last week, and humped its way over to a neighbouring hebe. He chewed on his new host for a day then settled down for a lengthy sleep/meditation on the miracles of self transformation. Its never to late to change our footprint, it seems.
Every day the children and I find ourselves out at the plant, checking out for the new caterpillars, looking at the destruction and marvelling at the chrysalis, hanging there glistening with dew drops. Its such a lovely conversation starter - on life and death and benefits of eating your greens.
Big Brother has been oogling the chrysalis, willing the butterfly to burst out. Little brother has been seeing how close he can get to wiping past the plant on his bike. I cannot bring myself to commit caterpillar genocide, to nobly save the strong to continue the species and all that. Little Miss doesn't have the same concerns, she likes to poke 'em. She doesn't mean to hurt them of course, but I hear her out there squealing with delight as she spots them with her pointy finger 'Doh! Doh!'.
Lets hope we get a couple of butterflies to flutter by us, and a few seed pods left at the end of the season of feasting to plant next year. Pity we can't just save a few bits of dirt and grow another planet too.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Mother's Little Habits
One of the joyful mothering habits that I am trying to break at the moment is eating up children's leftovers. It started with my first baby - I happen to really like stewed apple and banana mushed up with avocado.
Now there are 3 plates of scraps at every meal. What a waste! Luckily the boys eat quite well and if you've ever seen our daughter eat, you'd be saying, what scraps? She has a wonderful appetite, and combined with her independent nature she likes to work her way through using spoon, fork or fingers to ingest everything she can lay her hands on.
We are actually looking for something that she will refuse to eat - but we havent yet discovered it - she has happily consumed blue cheese, a mild curry, drunken prunes (marinated in red wine), and artichoke hearts. Lettuce she gives a suck on for a while then tends to discard it with a look of 'whats the point?'.
She keeps a very good eye on the boys meals to check they aren't getting any special tidbits, and usually is watching me like a hawk in the kitchen as I open the fridge. 'Ta?Ta?TA?'
If she eventually does become full, she lets fly - the crusts, the scraps, the porridge and spoon and the plates - all gets the overarm treatment.
Which is why the other day I found myself under the dining table picking up scraps - before I could stop myself I popped that wafer thin slice of cupcake into my mouth, followed by a piece of orange lego !
Yep, its definitely time to break that particular habit.
Now there are 3 plates of scraps at every meal. What a waste! Luckily the boys eat quite well and if you've ever seen our daughter eat, you'd be saying, what scraps? She has a wonderful appetite, and combined with her independent nature she likes to work her way through using spoon, fork or fingers to ingest everything she can lay her hands on.
We are actually looking for something that she will refuse to eat - but we havent yet discovered it - she has happily consumed blue cheese, a mild curry, drunken prunes (marinated in red wine), and artichoke hearts. Lettuce she gives a suck on for a while then tends to discard it with a look of 'whats the point?'.
She keeps a very good eye on the boys meals to check they aren't getting any special tidbits, and usually is watching me like a hawk in the kitchen as I open the fridge. 'Ta?Ta?TA?'
If she eventually does become full, she lets fly - the crusts, the scraps, the porridge and spoon and the plates - all gets the overarm treatment.
Which is why the other day I found myself under the dining table picking up scraps - before I could stop myself I popped that wafer thin slice of cupcake into my mouth, followed by a piece of orange lego !
Yep, its definitely time to break that particular habit.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Happy new year, and happy easter
In case I don't get around to sending Easter greetings, I am adopting the most efficient method and sending out my best wishes now. Those on the Christmas card list may receive the card I wrote in December sometime around April so please backdate any information as pertaining to the 2010 year. As for those who kindly gave us a Congratulations on your new daughter present (Dec 2009), your Thank you note is included in your Christmas card that may or may not,as I said, arrive. In Easter.
So much for all the resolutions. The main resolution I made this year is To Blog. Weekly.
There was also a few other half hashed resolves - No purchasing without premeditation, Wear more dresses (and Peta Mathias says a woman over thirty should NOT leave the house without lipstick), Get all tax returns in on time, and one rash Christmas day decision to only ever drink Moet. Sadly for the champagne/lipstick industry, those have faded like the fizzy from an open bottle of Lindauer.
There is something about a New Year that makes you want to up your game. And read self improvement books. As a very-happy-to-be-at-home-mother, I am resolving to enjoy my blessed life and revel in the chaos and challenge.
(Something about reading self improvement books that make you suddenly start spouting conversation like 'I'm resolving to embrace the now')
Top books read this New Year
You Sexy Mother, by Jodie Hedley-Ward
Don't sweat the small stuff, and its all small stuff, by Richard Carlson
Crucial Confrontations, by Kerry Patterson, Joseph Grenny, Ron McMillan and Al Switzler
Rework - change the way you work forever, by Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson
and next I'm working myself up for Rich Dad, Poor Dad by Robert T. Kiyosaki (The byline is very enticing : "what the rich teach their kids about money that the poor and middle class do not")
Meanwhile my babies are delightful and well, not really babies any more.
So much for all the resolutions. The main resolution I made this year is To Blog. Weekly.
There was also a few other half hashed resolves - No purchasing without premeditation, Wear more dresses (and Peta Mathias says a woman over thirty should NOT leave the house without lipstick), Get all tax returns in on time, and one rash Christmas day decision to only ever drink Moet. Sadly for the champagne/lipstick industry, those have faded like the fizzy from an open bottle of Lindauer.
There is something about a New Year that makes you want to up your game. And read self improvement books. As a very-happy-to-be-at-home-mother, I am resolving to enjoy my blessed life and revel in the chaos and challenge.
(Something about reading self improvement books that make you suddenly start spouting conversation like 'I'm resolving to embrace the now')
Top books read this New Year
You Sexy Mother, by Jodie Hedley-Ward
Don't sweat the small stuff, and its all small stuff, by Richard Carlson
Crucial Confrontations, by Kerry Patterson, Joseph Grenny, Ron McMillan and Al Switzler
Rework - change the way you work forever, by Jason Fried and David Heinemeier Hansson
and next I'm working myself up for Rich Dad, Poor Dad by Robert T. Kiyosaki (The byline is very enticing : "what the rich teach their kids about money that the poor and middle class do not")
Meanwhile my babies are delightful and well, not really babies any more.
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