No Second-Hand Shame...

When I first found out I was pregnant, a huge shopping expedition was planned. We chose all our baby furniture and accessories. We didn't think twice about buying it all new. 

We didn't spend thousands on a bedroom suite like others I knew, but it was all new. The only thing  that we borrowed was the bassinette, mainly because it was the one my mum used for me and it had sentimental value. I would never have considered going to a second hand shop for anything for my baby.

Even second time around with Alex, most of his baby clothes and wraps were new because the boy stuff was just differnt from girls and so cute!

I don't know when the shift happened. I don't know where or how my views on second hand stuff changed. But changed it has.

As I have said in previous posts, Megan is smaller than one of her Mother's Group friends and gets some beautiful clothes and shoes passed on to her. Alex also gets clothes, jackets, and runners passed along from the older boys in our group, and they both get bits and pieces passed along from their older cousins.

The clothes aren't always the style or colour I would usually choose, but since they are free and the kids need them, I'm not complaining! Kids clothes are expensive and they grow out of them so quickly, the clothes are usually in great condition.

Some I pass right along to younger boys or girls in the group or even to the Salvos, but since the kids need clothes to play and get messy in for crèche, even the most loved clothes usually go straight into the cupboard.

I'm thankful for the time and money that's been saved from getting things second hand. We usually package a size or season of clothes up and pass them on to each other during our weekly Mother's Groups, so it is usually delivered to our door!

It's like a mini-Christmas opening the bags up...wondering what I will find this time!

And it is so lovely to see the clothes I have bought, sadly packaged up when my kids outgrew it and
passed on, getting another life on the younger kids.
I'm glad my pride has allowed us to

I hate playing...

I hate playing...I wont win mother if the year award now, my secret is out.

I realise this is a bad thing...I'm a terrible mother. I know how important imaginative play is. I encourage my kids to do it often...as long as I don't have to join in!

I can't sit for longer than a few minutes building towers or saying "brmm, bmm" as I drive a car along a felt road. My attention span for puppet shows is about 60 seconds and I cringe at being the shopkeeper. I am happy to eat the pretend cake, but ask me to help cook it and I'm outta there!

Don't get me wrong, I love hanging out with my kids. I could WATCH them doing all those things for hours. I'll make suggestions and "ohh and ahh" in all the right places, taste creative culinary delights and watch when my attention is demanded...I just don't want to join in.

I'm not all bad...I don't think. There are great things I do with and for the kids. We sing all the time, I collect cereal boxes and bottle tops for constructions, I push swings, read books and even ocassionally (very occasionally) I'll jump on the trampoline. I know the things they'll need for when they start school so I introduce those things slowly.

I'm a great facilitator, not a great participant. Guess I need to work on that to put Mother Of The Year back in my sights!

Spring...!!

I happily waved goodbye to Winter yesterday, and welcome Spring with open arms today. I didn't have high hopes for the warm weather, but was pleasantly surprised.

With sunshine and warm days, I can legitamately kick the kids outside and say "Stay out there and get fresh air."

They happily potter around, pull out EVERY outside toy from the toy box and then play with the same 2 or 3 they always do. Then of course, they leave all those toys scattered around the garden, to be sneakily carried away by our plastic-loving dogs to quietly chew and ruin under a bush!

Sunshine also lends itself to picnics and lazing around, both of which I suggest at every glimpse of blue sky. Today was no exception :)

Here are some selfies (self-portraits) we took at lunchtime today, under the lovely Spring sky.

Look at that Sun glare...Proof!!!

Except this time the glare chopped my head off!

Got him!!!!!!!

So beautiful...

Always a character....that rubber face should get him into Showbiz!

Mucking around :)

Really like this one....

What are the chances of another day like this for Father's Day tomorrow???!!!??!!?!?!?!?!

It takes a village...

The old saying goes…”It takes a village to raise a child” and I wholeheartedly agree. The idea that kids need more than just a Mum and a Dad to become a happy, well-rounded person really appeals to me.

I believe that children need the role models of more than just 2 people. They need to know the personalities and values of others to help form their own personalities and values. They need to understand that there are rules in different places and situations and they have to learn and follow those particular rules. They need to love and trust a range of people, and understand that there are varying degrees of love and friendship.

I was a bit disappointed that I didn’t live in a village for it to help raise my kids, until I realised that I kind of did. Suburban sprall, iPads and Kindergym…a far cry from traditional villages and old-time upbringings.

But despite the modern spin on it, we still live in a village-ish way. There are a variety of people who look after my children. People who feed, discipline, teach and love my two ratbags. None of them live next door, or even live in the same street. Those people range from grandparents, aunties and uncles, to childcare workers and friends.

I trust each of them to be fair but firm with my kids. I have no trouble with them disciplining my children, even if I am around. Their house=their rules. Megan and Alex know what they are and aren’t allowed to get away with and I think that is fine.

I am not a hunter/gatherer of yesteryear, leaving my youngun’ with the village elders while I catch today’s dinner. But I am a working mum and I can call on these people at short notice to help me to care for my brood. And I’m sure they know I would do the same for them.

So…I’m going to change the old saying just a smidge, to suit today’s world and our lifestyle…

“It’s take a suburban cohort of age-varied people, to fairly and firmly raise today’s young people”

Nah…doesn’t have the same ring to it, does it? Let’s stick with…

“It takes a village to raise a child”!!!

That Love Drug......

Love is a strange thing. It comes in all shapes and sizes...and degrees.

I wasn't prepared for the love I feel for my kids. I love my husband, my parents and family, my friends. But that love does not even come close how I feel about my children.

The love tends to swell and surge when I get cuddles, kisses or out of the blue "I love you"s. Despite it sometimes driving me nuts, I do love that they need me to give comfort when they are upset and no one else. It's like a drug that I just can't get enough of.

I remember when my the first of my friends became a mum and said the cliched "I'd walk in front of a bus to save my baby!" At the time, I thought 'ok, you probably would'. When Megan was first born I got a taste of what she was talking about. I loved my baby and would do anything to protect her. Same when Alex came along.

But it wasn't until they got a bit older, developed delightful personalities, that I realized that not only would I walk in front of a bus for them, I'd do it deliberately and decisively! Now they are older, I feel the world would be a much sadder, darker place without them in it, so I'd need to do something to stop that.

I thought this was important to document, the way I feel about my children, they way I can't get enough of their smiles and giggles. I'm sure in 10-12 years when I'll be traveling those fraughtful teen years that I will want to look back on the toddler/preschooler days with a bit of nostalgia.

Thankful...

Tonight I watched a TV report on premature babies, and the fight and struggle that they and their families face. To say I was crying was an understatement!

The strength of these parents was incredible, and the heartache I felt for them was indescribable. To be called in to hospital to say goodbye to your tiny baby is something no parent should ever have to do.

I was lucky enough to only have healthy, full-term babies and both have been free from any major medical dramas, despite Alex trying to give himself head injuries at every opportunity! 

But I know parents that haven't been as fortunate, families that have had to deal with the possibility of losing their tiny baby; giving birth at 34, 30 and 28weeks. Some babies have flourished, some have had more of a struggle but pulled through. They still face challenges that being born prematurely brings.

Watching this TV segment, and thinking about those babies made me SO thankful for my healthy children, asleep in their beds. Thankful that they haven't had to fight for anything other than toys. Thankful that the only heart troubles they have suffered is being heartbroken at being told "No!". Thankful that every breath they have taken has been easy and unaided. 

I am also thankful that I don't need to be as strong as the families of premmie babies. I am in awe of their strength, but certainly not envious of it.

Photo journalling...

Here is what has been going on for us in the last few weeks... told in in pictures!



We went to the Icehouse in Docklands a few weeks ago.
The kids had a ball and we were itching to get skates on. We will be back!!

Megan's hair is very slow growing, so we are impressed by the length at the moment

 

Gymnastics is the flavour of the month at the moment- spurred on more by the Olympics.
So we joined Kindergym and the kids are loving it.



Megan's drawings are getting more and more recognisable

No amount of alpahbet pasta is convincing either of them to eat dinner

When mum is too slow to get out of bed on the weekend, Alex is happy to get his own!