News | Rainbows and Clover

I have just been watching a story this week on the news about a young couple who received a spiteful, anonymous note in the mail allegedly from one of their neighbours, who complained about the 'constant crying' of their 11 month old baby. (Who, by the way, came across in the film footage as an adorable, normal, pretty even tempered and adorable little boy).

It got me thinking about the truly deplorable and cowardly behavior of the many people, (I believe the colloquial name is 'trolls'), who spread their deadly venom throughout the world by way of using dangerous and soul-destroying put-downs (to finish reading click here ...)

I am finding lately that my child is kind of right in the middle of a major transition time regarding the things that interest him, which of them are appropriate for him, and which he is clearly 'growing-out' of and I'm wondering where best to look for guidelines that may support my decision making here. He is almost twelve now, with (EEK!!), facial hair becoming visible, and a speaking voice that is a virtual lucky-dip of peaks and troughs, you honestly never know what's going to come out next.

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I have just waved my eleven year old boy goodbye for the school holidays, as it is his dad's 'turn' to have him, as per our court ordered parenting agreement.
I cried a bit at first, prayed a lot for his well-being and protection from harm, and am now sitting on the couch with a comforting cup of tea and a chunk of organic chocolate from the fruit market down the street.
At the advice of many who have done this for  longer than i have, i have many small and middle-sized events planned for the next fortnight, and am also grateful to have quite a bit of work on my agenda to occupy my often overactive brain.

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We’re lucky to be mummies in the modern world. Our generation are one of the first, in Western societies at least, to have daddies involved in the parenting.  In more than just a ‘wait til your father gets home’ kind of way.  My husband has been struggling under the yoke of this modern ‘equality’ in the home since he met me.  He sometimes laments, with a  smile, falling in love with a feminist.  It has given him a role in our children’s lives that is meaningful, productive and healthy.  He knows them, he understands what they eat, the rhythm of their days.  He has walked the halls singing them to sleep and washed the sick from their shivering little bodies. He’s changed nappies and made breakfasts, lunchboxes and dinners, he’s listened to their long-way-around-stories, and read them many more.  He’s a softie about lights out and a push over when it comes to tomato sauce. He’s an awesome Dad.  The kids are so lucky to have him.

Click here to read the article, and to access our 20 point FREE printable daddy daughter to-do list. 

We have a deliciously girlie pinkie purplie scrummy felt giveaway happening right now over on instagram.  A fairy floss felt ball rug (RRP $319.95) and a fairy floss felt heart garland (RRP $29.95) and free shipping anywhere in Australia.  You can enter as many times as you like, but you must tag a different friend each time.

Instructions to enter : SHARE the pic : TAG #nicnacfairyfloss and a friend : Follow nicnacstagram : Winner is picked as soon as we reach 500 followers. 

GOOD LUCK!

I found the baby photo albums this morning. Of course, any excuse to stop…I settled in to the sofa to spend some time reminiscing. I always look at pictures from this time with surprise. Like a spectator trying to understand the family I am seeing. At the time I was barely functioning; so sleep deprived and anxious that my memories are a blurry fuzz. But in the photos, that mother. She looks so happy, so …together. She is holding her babies, smiling and laughing. There are baby bath shots, feeding shots, solids, walking, play time and coffee group shots. Family time and baking and washing folding and all the hallmark Mummy Activities. But Mummy was acting. I remember how it really was, inside my head. I just wanted to cry, with as much feeling as my babies did. Sometimes, I was scarily detached even from my own distress. Sometimes I just felt empty and dead inside, at a time when I knew my babies needed me to feel connected and certain. Looking back I can see how it all happened as it did. There was big stuff going on. My own mother ... click here to read on

What does a good relationship look like when you are parents?

It’s probably a bit different to what it looked like before the kids arrived. Like, an interplanetary timewarp, different. Same people, different planet. Whole new meaning for the word ‘good’.

These days I think love has smoodged over to make room for something pretty important. Like. Those two together are what I call a successful relationship when you are parents. I love you, and dammit, I choose remember why I like you, too.

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If you are embarking on the Small Person Years; the post-nappy, ‘I’m a big kid now’ era, take heart. You may have a child like my first, who announced that she didn't want to wear night nappies anymore. “OK,”I reasoned, “If you can go for a week with a dry night nappy, you won’t have to wear them anymore”. And so it was. Just like that, bless her little cottons. Or your child might be in night nappies or pull-ups for a good deal of their childhood. Or somewhere in between the two. It is a truth universally understood that they won’t be wearing them by the time they are at University. Exhale. My son recently had a whole class sleepover at school. I was so nervous about the bed wet thing. I brought it up with the teacher who said that it was very normal for kids this age to need pull ups.   Many would be sending their child’s pull-ups in with their jarmies. It was so reassuring to hear that my kid wasn’t the only one. If he was my only child, I think I would be quick to blame my parenting failings. But he’s not, so I know that this is less about what you do as a parent than about the individual child’s development. It’s a big relief to know that. Maybe you needed to read that today. It’s not about you.

So aside from acceptance, and giving yourself a break, there are some things you can do to ease the stress of bed wetting. read on ...

 

... But what does she want to do?  Only one thing. The only one thing that she has ever wanted to do.  The only one thing I know nothing about (ouch.  ….any wonder why?!) The only one thing she has ever enjoyed, out of all of them.  My girl will do anything to be near a horse, to ride a horse, to scoop the poop of a horse and pick the hoof of a horse.  At first I didn't encourage her, isn’t horse riding for the elite?  That’s just not us, sweetie.  She persistently begged me from four years old.  Horse themed birthday parties were as far as I went.  But her innate passion wouldn’t give up its grip on her.  She is a horsey girl through and through.  And so, I let go of my other ambitions, I had to.  Horse riding isn’t fiscally friendly!  Read full blog post here

When is the last time you lay on your tummy in the grass?  Made snow angels in the sand? Sat in a mud puddle and squiggled your toes through the goop?  Marvelled at the way the sun shines through a marble or the beauty of rainbows in the overspray of the hose?  Have you jumped on the trampoline or ridden a bike lately?  Have you leaned your forehead on the forehead of a loved one, closed your eyes and felt the gloriousness of their presence?

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What are your stand out memories of your Mum? Was she fun or was that your friend’s mum?

Was fun the domain of your Dad, or your Grandparent? Maybe the fun was for kids only and the grown ups just didn’t do it? 
My Mum used to sing funny songs, with made up, ad-hoc lyrics that always rhymed. We loved them because they were always about us. We loved them because, inevitably, one of the words to rhyme with ‘you’ was always going to be ‘poo’. That was terrifically hilarious when sung by a very proper lady. It’s not like my Mum was constantly fun, but the times she was are shining memories in my childhood. They are the glitter dusted on her personality.

It’s a bit of a palooza, the lunchbox thing. Pre-school mamas are experts at packing up little snack sized, energy rich morsels for their little ones to nibble on.  Little finger-foody, healthy, raw yummies to keep their bubbas happy and entertained.  Nothing fixes the supermarket whinges like a mini compartment snack box, right? But what to do when it is time to send your kid off to school?  What do you need to think about?  Does the lunchbox-fashion-du-jour matter as much at school as it did at daycare?  Is it okay to send them along with their old and serviceable Peppa Pig box?  Should you insulate?