What a ridiculously crazy week!!!! The Little Big Fella has finished his first full week of school (9 days, done and dusted), and I finally had a day at home, alone! And yes, I thoroughly enjoyed it! Although, I did clean the oven for the first time since we moved here (almost two years ago), and I hate cleaning ovens, so I guess saying I "thoroughly" enjoyed it is a bit of a stretch. I do enjoy being able to see through the glass front and seeing that the racks are silver, not black.
Anyway, the Little Big Fella is definitely enjoying school. He got up on Saturday morning and put his school uniform on, and was quite disappointed to be told it was the weekend and he wasn't going to school for two days.
Over the past two weeks it seems like someone (thank you Miss I) has flipped a switch in our son's brain.
On the first day he was writing his whole name (with a little reminder/help). We'd been trying to get him to do that over the entire summer break!
From day one he started telling wildly imaginative stories that take 10 to 15 minutes to tell and are incredibly detailed.
He sat down and coloured in a page, choosing the right colours and basically staying inside the lines. He has never done that before! He'd always pick whatever colour he felt like at the time, colour a little bit, then scribble all over the page, then quit.
He drew a picture of himself, Daddy and Mummy for the first time ever! Previously I've seen him draw eyes, nose and a mouth, but not whole people, and never specifically naming anyone.
Every time we pick him up from school, he's done something different and learned something new and wants to show us what he's done. He's SO enthusiastic!
And then we get home and he wants to practice some more!
The other night we were reading a Spiderman book, and we worked out that he knows most of the letters! Already! In nine days!
We had a parent information session on Tuesday evening and his teacher, Miss I, showed us what the kids will be learning in one term (10 weeks). I was floored! I am amazed at not only the volume, but the depth of what they'll be learning in such a short time. And that they have the capacity to learn that is simply amazing.
Although I know there are negatives, I'm loving that he's in a composite class. There are 24 students in his classroom; 13 Preps, 8 Grade 1s and 3 Grade 2s (I think). The biggest advantage is that that older kids are showing the new Preppies how things work and what they are aiming to achieve. Which, so far, is absolutely inspiring my Little Big Fella.
The other night he sat at the desk and "typed" on the laptop. Then he asked me to read it back to him. He laughed when I read his gobbledegook.
He's had some of the older kids reading to him in class and he's so eager to be able to read himself! And he's very keen for me to read to him each night (regardless of how tired I may be).
The one thing Miss I mentioned he needs to work on at this stage (when I asked her) was not interrupting others when they talk. Which is fair enough. As an only child, we've allowed him to interrupt us, mostly because it's easier. So we've been making a point to help him learn to wait for a break in conversation at home. He'll get there :-)
I'm still waiting for the day he says, "I don't want to go to school today", or, "I have a tummy ache". I know it will happen sooner or later. But I'm so stoked by watching him grow in front of my eyes, and simply be excited about everything.
It is awesome.
Showing posts with label growing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growing. Show all posts
Saturday, 8 February 2014
Friday, 31 January 2014
Starting school
The day had finally arrived. After weeks of asking, and marking days off on the calendar, and talking and preparing, it was finally the first day of school for my Little Big Fella.
At 6:30 a little head popped up beside me in bed.
"Mum. It's school day today!"
Really, I'm pretty lucky he woke that late!
But thus began the interminable wait for 8:15, when the Little Big Fella could finally say "it's time to go, Mum!"
We took the obligatory photos, and a couple of videos (oh shoot! I haven't sent those to Grandma yet! Sorry Grandma! They're coming as soon as I've posted this!).
I took several hundred photos (I love multi-shot!) but still couldn't get a single one with both eyes open! Sheesh!
Side note: don't you think it's crazy that a school with a black and yellow colour scheme specifies white socks in their uniform???? Seriously? Have you ever had a child who can keep anything white clean???
Anyway, following in my own mum's footsteps, I'd decided that the Little Big Fella would make his own school lunch from day 1. So the afternoon before, he made his sandwiches (one with jam and one with honey), put some fruit and yoghurt and some snacks into his lunchbox and put it in the fridge, ready to go in the morning.
Obviously he needed a little help, but even in the four days that he's been going so far, he's significantly improved! And I can see a day in the very near future where I won't be wanted or needed for lunch-making at all!
My mum is a very smart woman :-D
Amazingly, the Big Fella wasn't working until well after school started on the first day so the three of us walked (a whole block!) to school, with the Little Big Fella just about jumping out of his skin with excitement!
As we got closer to the school, the Little Big Fella's hand found its way into mine and I realised he was getting a little nervous, probably because of the large number of people hanging around.
But we found where to put his bag and books, then found and put on his name badge. His teacher said good morning and the Little Big Fella responded without doing his faux-shy act.
Then we spotted his best friend and life was brilliant from that point on. Another friend who will be in their classroom but is in Grade 1 (it's a composite Grade Prep/1/2 class) was asked to help them get settled.
The first bell went and minor chaos ensued. Kids were running everywhere, parents were saying goodbye, teachers and helpers were trying to direct everyone to the right place...
The Little Big Fella gave us hugs and kisses and then he was inside, sitting on the mat beginning his learning career.
And I was so immensely proud of him! He took to it like a duck to water. He wasn't afraid. He overcame his brief nervousness. What more could a Mummy ask for?
And because I knew he was okay, I was okay too. How could I not be okay when I was so proud?
Throughout the day I often wondered what he was up to and what he was learning and who he was playing with and if he had enough food and if he was still okay. And when it got to 2 o'clock I started to get excited! Only half an hour before I could go and pick him up and hear his stories and find out what he'd loved about school.
And he did love it! He'd done some drawing, and he'd written his name, and he'd played with his friends. He showed me the magnet toys in his classroom (ironically, he'd loved playing with those at Super Carer's place when he was so much littler), and where his table was with his name on it.
How could a mother's heart not melt?
After all the loooooooonnnnnnnggggg nights, the hard days, the tears, the struggles, and the laughter, the fun, the games, the highs... we have reached one of the points of evaluation of parenthood and we've done our job - our boy is ready for school and therefore this stage of life without us. Good job parents! :-D
We have just finished our first week (four days) of school. We're a bit tired and overwhelmed by the changes this new life is bringing. So Friday after school was party pie and movies time.
But we've seen our son super-excitedly showing us how he can write his own name (you could basically read it too!). We saw some of his classwork (including a piece about the class rules, where his response was something along the lines of "class rules keep us safe otherwise we'd be dead"). We've learned about "mat manners" and the importance of doing what your teachers tell you. And we found out there's a fridge to put his lunch and drink bottle in.
It's been a huge week! And the coming weeks are going to be just as big, with the start of swimming (both through the school and privately), Kindysports, tuckshop, P&C meetings, and Show and Tell.
It's exhausting, but it's also kind of fun and definitely exciting too. And watching the Little Big Fella grow in such a short time is amazing! I'm loving this new stage of our lives.
At 6:30 a little head popped up beside me in bed.
"Mum. It's school day today!"
Really, I'm pretty lucky he woke that late!
But thus began the interminable wait for 8:15, when the Little Big Fella could finally say "it's time to go, Mum!"
We took the obligatory photos, and a couple of videos (oh shoot! I haven't sent those to Grandma yet! Sorry Grandma! They're coming as soon as I've posted this!).
I took several hundred photos (I love multi-shot!) but still couldn't get a single one with both eyes open! Sheesh!
Side note: don't you think it's crazy that a school with a black and yellow colour scheme specifies white socks in their uniform???? Seriously? Have you ever had a child who can keep anything white clean???
Anyway, following in my own mum's footsteps, I'd decided that the Little Big Fella would make his own school lunch from day 1. So the afternoon before, he made his sandwiches (one with jam and one with honey), put some fruit and yoghurt and some snacks into his lunchbox and put it in the fridge, ready to go in the morning.
Obviously he needed a little help, but even in the four days that he's been going so far, he's significantly improved! And I can see a day in the very near future where I won't be wanted or needed for lunch-making at all!
My mum is a very smart woman :-D
Amazingly, the Big Fella wasn't working until well after school started on the first day so the three of us walked (a whole block!) to school, with the Little Big Fella just about jumping out of his skin with excitement!
As we got closer to the school, the Little Big Fella's hand found its way into mine and I realised he was getting a little nervous, probably because of the large number of people hanging around.
But we found where to put his bag and books, then found and put on his name badge. His teacher said good morning and the Little Big Fella responded without doing his faux-shy act.
Then we spotted his best friend and life was brilliant from that point on. Another friend who will be in their classroom but is in Grade 1 (it's a composite Grade Prep/1/2 class) was asked to help them get settled.
The first bell went and minor chaos ensued. Kids were running everywhere, parents were saying goodbye, teachers and helpers were trying to direct everyone to the right place...
The Little Big Fella gave us hugs and kisses and then he was inside, sitting on the mat beginning his learning career.
And I was so immensely proud of him! He took to it like a duck to water. He wasn't afraid. He overcame his brief nervousness. What more could a Mummy ask for?
And because I knew he was okay, I was okay too. How could I not be okay when I was so proud?
Throughout the day I often wondered what he was up to and what he was learning and who he was playing with and if he had enough food and if he was still okay. And when it got to 2 o'clock I started to get excited! Only half an hour before I could go and pick him up and hear his stories and find out what he'd loved about school.
And he did love it! He'd done some drawing, and he'd written his name, and he'd played with his friends. He showed me the magnet toys in his classroom (ironically, he'd loved playing with those at Super Carer's place when he was so much littler), and where his table was with his name on it.
How could a mother's heart not melt?
After all the loooooooonnnnnnnggggg nights, the hard days, the tears, the struggles, and the laughter, the fun, the games, the highs... we have reached one of the points of evaluation of parenthood and we've done our job - our boy is ready for school and therefore this stage of life without us. Good job parents! :-D
We have just finished our first week (four days) of school. We're a bit tired and overwhelmed by the changes this new life is bringing. So Friday after school was party pie and movies time.
But we've seen our son super-excitedly showing us how he can write his own name (you could basically read it too!). We saw some of his classwork (including a piece about the class rules, where his response was something along the lines of "class rules keep us safe otherwise we'd be dead"). We've learned about "mat manners" and the importance of doing what your teachers tell you. And we found out there's a fridge to put his lunch and drink bottle in.
It's been a huge week! And the coming weeks are going to be just as big, with the start of swimming (both through the school and privately), Kindysports, tuckshop, P&C meetings, and Show and Tell.
It's exhausting, but it's also kind of fun and definitely exciting too. And watching the Little Big Fella grow in such a short time is amazing! I'm loving this new stage of our lives.
Saturday, 16 November 2013
Another step
This week my Little Big Fella took another step in growing up. On Wednesday afternoon, he had his first Prep Transition Day.
Here in Queensland, Australia, children can attend kindergarten in the year before school. In most cases the kindy is a separate location to schools, but sometimes they have their own area in a school.
The first year of "official" school is called Prep and my not-so-little son will be starting that at the end of January next year. To help the kids get used to the school and the routines and rules, they're joining with this year's Prep students for three afternoons this term.
The Little Big Fella is pretty excited about going to school next year. They've been talking about it at kindy and we've talked a bit about it at home as well. And we've spent some time at the school for various events since moving here, including Kindysports this term, the school fair a few weeks ago and other events since moving here last year.
He has a lot of friends at the school already, and knows most of the kids who will join him in Prep next year, so he doesn't seem to be anywhere near nervous about it all.
In fact, when we arrived at Prep Transition the other day he didn't even turn around to look at me when the teacher came out and told them what would be happening. She asked if he wanted to give me a kiss and cuddle! It's such a contrast to dropping him off at kindy, where he still wants me to come in and sit with him for about 10 to 15 minutes before he's happy for me to leave.
We have two more Transition sessions over the next two weeks, and I'm hoping it goes as well as this one!
During the hour he was there, Miss I, his teacher, read them the book, "The Very Cranky Bear". It's one we've borrowed from the Library previously, and I'm certain they've read it at kindy a few times as well. It's a really good book.
They got to do a painting after that, and told Miss I what their favourite part of the book was.
When he came out of the classroom at the end, he was SO excited and wanted to tell me everything they'd done.
Instead of going home (the Big Fella was sleeping), I hung out in the canteen with our next door neighbour. I saw all the Prep kids holding hands with the Transition Preps, going around the school and showing them where everything was. It was gorgeous! I wanted to get a photo, but didn't want to distract the class so you don't get to see how cute they were. Sorry!
Now I need to start thinking about school uniforms, backpacks, pencil cases and so on. Hello Christmas stocking fillers and presents :-D Yep, this marks the start of practical Christmas presents like socks and jocks!!!! Mwah ha ha haaaaah!
Here in Queensland, Australia, children can attend kindergarten in the year before school. In most cases the kindy is a separate location to schools, but sometimes they have their own area in a school.
The first year of "official" school is called Prep and my not-so-little son will be starting that at the end of January next year. To help the kids get used to the school and the routines and rules, they're joining with this year's Prep students for three afternoons this term.
The Little Big Fella is pretty excited about going to school next year. They've been talking about it at kindy and we've talked a bit about it at home as well. And we've spent some time at the school for various events since moving here, including Kindysports this term, the school fair a few weeks ago and other events since moving here last year.
He has a lot of friends at the school already, and knows most of the kids who will join him in Prep next year, so he doesn't seem to be anywhere near nervous about it all.
In fact, when we arrived at Prep Transition the other day he didn't even turn around to look at me when the teacher came out and told them what would be happening. She asked if he wanted to give me a kiss and cuddle! It's such a contrast to dropping him off at kindy, where he still wants me to come in and sit with him for about 10 to 15 minutes before he's happy for me to leave.
We have two more Transition sessions over the next two weeks, and I'm hoping it goes as well as this one!
During the hour he was there, Miss I, his teacher, read them the book, "The Very Cranky Bear". It's one we've borrowed from the Library previously, and I'm certain they've read it at kindy a few times as well. It's a really good book.
They got to do a painting after that, and told Miss I what their favourite part of the book was.
When he came out of the classroom at the end, he was SO excited and wanted to tell me everything they'd done.
Instead of going home (the Big Fella was sleeping), I hung out in the canteen with our next door neighbour. I saw all the Prep kids holding hands with the Transition Preps, going around the school and showing them where everything was. It was gorgeous! I wanted to get a photo, but didn't want to distract the class so you don't get to see how cute they were. Sorry!
Now I need to start thinking about school uniforms, backpacks, pencil cases and so on. Hello Christmas stocking fillers and presents :-D Yep, this marks the start of practical Christmas presents like socks and jocks!!!! Mwah ha ha haaaaah!
Friday, 13 September 2013
Where is the love?
I've seen two programs about trans-gender people recently. In case you're not sure, trans-gender and those who are born with a male or female body, but internally believe themselves to be the other gender.
Let me say, right up front that I don't know any trans-gender people (that I know of), so I am not talking from a position of experience.
The thing that's struck me the most about both of the programs I've watched is the pain of the trans-gender person, and that of their parents.
The trans-gender people suffer from feeling like they're in the wrong body.
They suffer from being so completely different to the majority of society, in a world where difference is awkward or even a cause of abuse.
They suffer as they decide whether to try to make their body match their internal life, and if they do, they suffer from the operations and recovery of the physical changes.
They suffer guilt for feeling like they're deceiving those around them if they don't "fess up" to who they "really" are.
And the parents suffer too. They suffer grief for the loss of the child they thought they had, even if they support them. They suffer as their child is rejected by a cruel world. They suffer for their child as they face complex relationship questions.
I watched a mother on the program this evening, standing with her arms crossed across her chest, telling her son-who-feels-like-a-daughter that she wouldn't call him/her a female name. And I saw the child's soul crushed.
Later in the program the mother took that child shopping for girl's clothes in an attempt to rebuild the bridge over the chasm between them.
And as I sit here writing and reflecting my eyes are welling with tears.
Life is nowhere near black and white. And whether you believe trans-gender people are who they say they are or not, the reality is that they are people. And in all probability, they have suffered. Greatly!
And my tears are not only for trans-gender people, but also for gay and lesbians. Because, although they are much more accepted in society these days, there is still a great deal of fear and loathing.
And whether you believe anyone other than you is born that way, or whether you think their lifestyle is an abomination, or just plain weird, surely the thing that's most important, the issue that is first and foremost, is that they are human beings who suffer pain just like you and me.
You don't have to agree with them. You don't have to join the Mardi Gras parade. You don't have to do anything except treat others as human beings. At the very least, be civil! "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all".
Because by simply holding our tongues, or acknowledging the pain of another, we can make the world immeasurably better.
Let me say, right up front that I don't know any trans-gender people (that I know of), so I am not talking from a position of experience.
The thing that's struck me the most about both of the programs I've watched is the pain of the trans-gender person, and that of their parents.
The trans-gender people suffer from feeling like they're in the wrong body.
They suffer from being so completely different to the majority of society, in a world where difference is awkward or even a cause of abuse.
They suffer as they decide whether to try to make their body match their internal life, and if they do, they suffer from the operations and recovery of the physical changes.
They suffer guilt for feeling like they're deceiving those around them if they don't "fess up" to who they "really" are.
And the parents suffer too. They suffer grief for the loss of the child they thought they had, even if they support them. They suffer as their child is rejected by a cruel world. They suffer for their child as they face complex relationship questions.
I watched a mother on the program this evening, standing with her arms crossed across her chest, telling her son-who-feels-like-a-daughter that she wouldn't call him/her a female name. And I saw the child's soul crushed.
Later in the program the mother took that child shopping for girl's clothes in an attempt to rebuild the bridge over the chasm between them.
And as I sit here writing and reflecting my eyes are welling with tears.
Life is nowhere near black and white. And whether you believe trans-gender people are who they say they are or not, the reality is that they are people. And in all probability, they have suffered. Greatly!
And my tears are not only for trans-gender people, but also for gay and lesbians. Because, although they are much more accepted in society these days, there is still a great deal of fear and loathing.
And whether you believe anyone other than you is born that way, or whether you think their lifestyle is an abomination, or just plain weird, surely the thing that's most important, the issue that is first and foremost, is that they are human beings who suffer pain just like you and me.
You don't have to agree with them. You don't have to join the Mardi Gras parade. You don't have to do anything except treat others as human beings. At the very least, be civil! "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all".
Because by simply holding our tongues, or acknowledging the pain of another, we can make the world immeasurably better.
Sunday, 25 August 2013
Unambitious
Over the past month I've had the privilege of spending time with both of my sisters (unfortunately not at the same time). They are awesome women and I love them both to pieces!
One thing that they have in common is that they're ambitious!
My youngest sister started working in a major department store quite a while ago (maybe 10 years?) and has since worked her way from the shop floor to the office to now being the person who decides what products to sell in one of the departments.
My other sister is currently an at-home-mum, but has her sights set on major event planning. Not just weddings, big parties, business meeting-type events. She's looking at major festivals and shows. She'll be starting study to meet those goals next year.
Then there's me.
I only ever dreamed of being a mum, and maybe a secretary. And while motherhood has turned out to be WAY harder than I ever thought, I still haven't dreamed of anything else for myself.
Until now.
Talking to my sister this week made me ask myself, "why not?".
My answer so far is that my location and my son have caused me to limit my possibilities. But that's not necessary. Between the internet, YouTube, the support of my husband and friends, the reality is that I could do anything!
But what do I want to do?
Looks like it's time for a little dreaming!
One thing that they have in common is that they're ambitious!
My youngest sister started working in a major department store quite a while ago (maybe 10 years?) and has since worked her way from the shop floor to the office to now being the person who decides what products to sell in one of the departments.
My other sister is currently an at-home-mum, but has her sights set on major event planning. Not just weddings, big parties, business meeting-type events. She's looking at major festivals and shows. She'll be starting study to meet those goals next year.
Then there's me.
I only ever dreamed of being a mum, and maybe a secretary. And while motherhood has turned out to be WAY harder than I ever thought, I still haven't dreamed of anything else for myself.
Until now.
Talking to my sister this week made me ask myself, "why not?".
My answer so far is that my location and my son have caused me to limit my possibilities. But that's not necessary. Between the internet, YouTube, the support of my husband and friends, the reality is that I could do anything!
But what do I want to do?
Looks like it's time for a little dreaming!
Tuesday, 2 July 2013
A dream childhood
I sometimes wonder if my son, despite (or perhaps even because of) being an only child, is having a dream childhood.
If I were to ask you what a dream childhood for a boy might look like, what would you say?
Maybe riding bikes? Maybe even motorbikes? Check, and check!
Maybe fishing with dad? Check!
Maybe doing all kinds of handyman things with dad? Check!
Maybe lighting fires (not bushfires, obviously) and learning to play with them (safely)? Check!
Hmmmm, what else goes into a dream childhood???
Dogs! For a boy, you'd just about have to say dogs, right? Check!
Playing in mud and dirt and sand? Check!
Kicking the football around with dad, maybe even with mum too? Check!
Lots of food? Check! A bit of junk food? Check!
Dressing up as superheroes probably needs to go in there too, right? Check! Oh! And movies! Check!
And then there's the stories that I used to be told by my parents about the golden era of their growing up years. I'm sure you've heard similar ones. You know! The story that goes something along the lines of heading out to play with your friends, only coming home to eat or when it gets dark? Running or riding around, playing, getting into harmless mischief, knowing that any of the mums will tell all of you off if you get into not-so-harmless mischief... you've heard that story, right?
Well, the Little Big Fella will now be able to tell his kids those stories because today, at about 10am he raced into the house desperately trying to find me. A couple of the people who live in the cul-de-sac behind us only get to have their kids during the school holidays, and the kids were calling out to the Little Big Fella to join them.
Who could say no?
So off he went! And you know what I felt? Guilt. Guilt! Do you believe it??? I felt guilty because my son wasn't under any single person's direct care.
Are you kidding me???
Thankfully I quickly realised that he was living the dream so I put away my guilt and happily fed him when he came home for lunch, before running out again to play for most of the afternoon.
And when one of his new friends climbed over the fence to play at our place for a while, I fed them jelly (it is school holidays after all), and they played until it was nearly dark and they were called inside for dinner.
At one point, late in the afternoon, myself, my next door neighbour and her backyard neighbour met for a quick chat in the corner of our yards. And we smiled about the fact that our kids are getting to live this dream childhood.
Oh! And if you're wondering what I did with my essentially child-free day, I cleaned the office and planned for our trip next week. Yep! Livin' the dream :-D
If I were to ask you what a dream childhood for a boy might look like, what would you say?
Maybe riding bikes? Maybe even motorbikes? Check, and check!
Maybe fishing with dad? Check!
Maybe doing all kinds of handyman things with dad? Check!
Maybe lighting fires (not bushfires, obviously) and learning to play with them (safely)? Check!
Hmmmm, what else goes into a dream childhood???
Dogs! For a boy, you'd just about have to say dogs, right? Check!
Playing in mud and dirt and sand? Check!
Kicking the football around with dad, maybe even with mum too? Check!
Lots of food? Check! A bit of junk food? Check!
Dressing up as superheroes probably needs to go in there too, right? Check! Oh! And movies! Check!
And then there's the stories that I used to be told by my parents about the golden era of their growing up years. I'm sure you've heard similar ones. You know! The story that goes something along the lines of heading out to play with your friends, only coming home to eat or when it gets dark? Running or riding around, playing, getting into harmless mischief, knowing that any of the mums will tell all of you off if you get into not-so-harmless mischief... you've heard that story, right?
Well, the Little Big Fella will now be able to tell his kids those stories because today, at about 10am he raced into the house desperately trying to find me. A couple of the people who live in the cul-de-sac behind us only get to have their kids during the school holidays, and the kids were calling out to the Little Big Fella to join them.
Who could say no?
So off he went! And you know what I felt? Guilt. Guilt! Do you believe it??? I felt guilty because my son wasn't under any single person's direct care.
Are you kidding me???
Thankfully I quickly realised that he was living the dream so I put away my guilt and happily fed him when he came home for lunch, before running out again to play for most of the afternoon.
And when one of his new friends climbed over the fence to play at our place for a while, I fed them jelly (it is school holidays after all), and they played until it was nearly dark and they were called inside for dinner.
At one point, late in the afternoon, myself, my next door neighbour and her backyard neighbour met for a quick chat in the corner of our yards. And we smiled about the fact that our kids are getting to live this dream childhood.
Oh! And if you're wondering what I did with my essentially child-free day, I cleaned the office and planned for our trip next week. Yep! Livin' the dream :-D
Sunday, 30 June 2013
What luck!
Last week I watched a segment on 60 Minutes about a guy who found his family in India using Google Earth. The basic gist was that he was born in a small town in India, got lost when he was 5, struggled, was adopted by an Australian couple, and when Google Earth came out, used it to find where he'd grown up, then went and found his mum.
The thing about the story that struck me was that it had been advertised as a "lucky chance" that he'd found his home town and mum. "Just like that" was the phrase used.
But when I watched the story, it wasn't "just like that" at all! He'd spent years (about five or seven years from memory) searching along all of the train lines that left from Calcutta (where he ended up). He worked hard all day, spent time with his Australian family, then spent hours every night searching and searching.
That's not luck! That's persistence!
I get to see that kind of "luck" in action regularly.
The Big Fella is definitely a "lucky" guy! I mean, for starters he has me ;-)
But seriously folks.
Let's take a look at just his work life for example. When we first met, the Big Fella was a mechanic for a small, family-owned garage. He worked hard and tried to do the best job, and make the most money for his boss. He was, essentially, the foreman in that workplace and ended up working with them for about 10 years.
Through various contacts, he had the opportunity to work for a high performance workshop. They transformed cars from regular, run-of-the-mill cars, to high performance machines that probably shouldn't have been driven on normal roads!
While he was there he learned how to re-build an engine, mostly in his own time. He worked long hours, studied manuals at home, talked to as many experts in the field as he could and made himself an invaluable employee for his boss. He also talked the fabrication guys into teaching him how to weld well.
While he was there, he had the opportunity to participate in creating an awesome vehicle for the Army's promotion team. They had to design and build it from scratch. Again, there were looooooonnnnnnnggggg hours (several all-nighters from memory), and lots of learning from books and other experts.
When we decided to move north, the Big Fella ended up working in a regular workshop again, making pretty average money, but giving his best to make as much money as he could for his employer.
He ended up working pro bono for a transmission specialist in his lunch hours and after work, learning how to rebuild and repair transmissions. He spent long hours learning from that man, and reading everything he could get his hands on so that he understood everything he could about those machines. Eventually he was offered a position in that workshop.
Later the Big Fella worked for himself, using the skills he had learned to build a great little business. He worked long hours and did everything he could to satisfy his customers.
One of those customers told him about the train driving job. And now we're here. He's making good money. We get to do some fun stuff because we live in the country. Yeah, he's "lucky".
Some people will always look at "lucky" people and bemoan that their own life is no good. They don't see the hours of effort that have gone into making that "luck". They don't see the sacrifices along the way. They don't see the discussions and painful backwards steps and the wondering if it's all worth it.
They don't see that "luck" is often made, not granted.
I wonder what kind of "luck" you're making today? What will the efforts that I put in today, effect in my future? What will the lessons I'm learning right now translate to? What kind of "luck" do I want in my life? And what am I willing to do today to make it happen?
The thing about the story that struck me was that it had been advertised as a "lucky chance" that he'd found his home town and mum. "Just like that" was the phrase used.
But when I watched the story, it wasn't "just like that" at all! He'd spent years (about five or seven years from memory) searching along all of the train lines that left from Calcutta (where he ended up). He worked hard all day, spent time with his Australian family, then spent hours every night searching and searching.
That's not luck! That's persistence!
I get to see that kind of "luck" in action regularly.
The Big Fella is definitely a "lucky" guy! I mean, for starters he has me ;-)
But seriously folks.
Let's take a look at just his work life for example. When we first met, the Big Fella was a mechanic for a small, family-owned garage. He worked hard and tried to do the best job, and make the most money for his boss. He was, essentially, the foreman in that workplace and ended up working with them for about 10 years.
Through various contacts, he had the opportunity to work for a high performance workshop. They transformed cars from regular, run-of-the-mill cars, to high performance machines that probably shouldn't have been driven on normal roads!
While he was there he learned how to re-build an engine, mostly in his own time. He worked long hours, studied manuals at home, talked to as many experts in the field as he could and made himself an invaluable employee for his boss. He also talked the fabrication guys into teaching him how to weld well.
While he was there, he had the opportunity to participate in creating an awesome vehicle for the Army's promotion team. They had to design and build it from scratch. Again, there were looooooonnnnnnnggggg hours (several all-nighters from memory), and lots of learning from books and other experts.
When we decided to move north, the Big Fella ended up working in a regular workshop again, making pretty average money, but giving his best to make as much money as he could for his employer.
He ended up working pro bono for a transmission specialist in his lunch hours and after work, learning how to rebuild and repair transmissions. He spent long hours learning from that man, and reading everything he could get his hands on so that he understood everything he could about those machines. Eventually he was offered a position in that workshop.
Later the Big Fella worked for himself, using the skills he had learned to build a great little business. He worked long hours and did everything he could to satisfy his customers.
One of those customers told him about the train driving job. And now we're here. He's making good money. We get to do some fun stuff because we live in the country. Yeah, he's "lucky".
Some people will always look at "lucky" people and bemoan that their own life is no good. They don't see the hours of effort that have gone into making that "luck". They don't see the sacrifices along the way. They don't see the discussions and painful backwards steps and the wondering if it's all worth it.
They don't see that "luck" is often made, not granted.
I wonder what kind of "luck" you're making today? What will the efforts that I put in today, effect in my future? What will the lessons I'm learning right now translate to? What kind of "luck" do I want in my life? And what am I willing to do today to make it happen?
Thursday, 27 June 2013
Will we survive?
You might remember that a few weeks ago the Little Big Fella managed to cut his finger with a steak knife whilst trying to open a packet of tortillas by himself. He learned that scissors are a better option.
Earlier this week the Little Big Fella was trying to do a handstand off the trampoline onto the concrete. Obviously the fact that I'm telling you about it means that he was unsuccessful. He learned that the grass is the best place to practice handstands.
Last night my darling son (again) couldn't wait for me to use the facilities while he was dying of hunger. He got a scone (Americans call them biscuits) from the freezer, put it on a plastic plate and put it in the microwave. First thing I knew about any of this was when I exited the loo to be told something about smoke, although I didn't decipher that part immediately.
"All right, show me what you've done", said I.
I was guided to the kitchen, to discover smoke pouring out of the microwave.
The next 5 minutes were spent throwing the black scone and melted plate over the balcony onto the grass and trying to get smoke out of the house, whilst waving a placemat at the smoke detector to shut it up.
The Little Big Fella has since learned which one button on the microwave he is allowed to push (our start button will set the time to 30 seconds).
But all of this makes me wonder if any of us will survive to his adulthood. No doubt there will be broken bones in the future, especially given the new motorbike skills he's developing. I'm wondering if there'll be electrocutions, loss of digits or limbs, all manner of (hopefully minor) fire incidents...
Then there's the reality that I am now a heart-in-mouth parent. Watching my little boy get a few wobbles on that bike was very stressful!
But, the flipside of it all is that my "little" Big Fella is not going to be little for long. He's learning how to do things for himself (albeit the hard way). As well as food-related independence, we've been teaching him some letters of the alphabet while he's on holidays from kindy. And he's soaking it up like a sponge!
So I guess now is a significant learning time for the Little Big Fella, and it would probably be smart for us to make the most of that. Because soon he'll know it all ;-)
Earlier this week the Little Big Fella was trying to do a handstand off the trampoline onto the concrete. Obviously the fact that I'm telling you about it means that he was unsuccessful. He learned that the grass is the best place to practice handstands.
Last night my darling son (again) couldn't wait for me to use the facilities while he was dying of hunger. He got a scone (Americans call them biscuits) from the freezer, put it on a plastic plate and put it in the microwave. First thing I knew about any of this was when I exited the loo to be told something about smoke, although I didn't decipher that part immediately.
"All right, show me what you've done", said I.
I was guided to the kitchen, to discover smoke pouring out of the microwave.
The next 5 minutes were spent throwing the black scone and melted plate over the balcony onto the grass and trying to get smoke out of the house, whilst waving a placemat at the smoke detector to shut it up.
The Little Big Fella has since learned which one button on the microwave he is allowed to push (our start button will set the time to 30 seconds).
But all of this makes me wonder if any of us will survive to his adulthood. No doubt there will be broken bones in the future, especially given the new motorbike skills he's developing. I'm wondering if there'll be electrocutions, loss of digits or limbs, all manner of (hopefully minor) fire incidents...
Then there's the reality that I am now a heart-in-mouth parent. Watching my little boy get a few wobbles on that bike was very stressful!
But, the flipside of it all is that my "little" Big Fella is not going to be little for long. He's learning how to do things for himself (albeit the hard way). As well as food-related independence, we've been teaching him some letters of the alphabet while he's on holidays from kindy. And he's soaking it up like a sponge!
So I guess now is a significant learning time for the Little Big Fella, and it would probably be smart for us to make the most of that. Because soon he'll know it all ;-)
Monday, 24 June 2013
Overcoming fear
I think the Little Big Fella had just turned two years old when he got his first bike... motorbike, that is. The Big Fella bought it and "tested" it at work:
.jpg)
And the Little Big Fella loved it from Day 1!
He literally did (and does) sit on it and pretend to be riding!
So either the Big Fella or I would jump on the back with the Little Big Fella and take him for rides around the yard, or just up the road to a big paddock, or around the lagoons.
At that point he was riding a pushbike with a handle on the back. He couldn't steer in a straight line, so we had to "adjust" his trajectory for him.
Over time he's gotten great at riding his pushy. He and I used to ride along the Esplanade on our bikes, and he even got to the point of riding over the ramps at the park.
When he ruined his "old" pushbike (I'm not sure toddler bikes are designed for skate ramps), the Big Fella bought him a really good BMX-style bike. It's tough and should last for at least a couple of years. Unlike his previous bike, which had back-pedal brakes, this one has handle-bar brakes.
During our rides together on the motorbike, we'd gotten to the point that the Little Big Fella did the majority of the steering and throttle control.
So now the Little Big Fella had developed the ability to ride in a straight line, and the ability to use handle-bar brakes, and an understanding of how to use the throttle. In theory, he could ride his motorbike all by himself.
In theory.
The problem is, he was too afraid.
The Little Big Fella had the skills he needed, he just needed the confidence in his abilities.
The Big Fella tried forcing the Little Big Fella to do it on his own. But that seemed to make him more afraid. He tried coercion, to no avail.
How do you help someone overcome their fear?
Sometimes the solution is to build that confidence little by little.
The Big Fella somehow got the Little Big Fella to sit on the motorbike all by himself. That in itself was a bit of a feat!
Then Daddy got his son to keep his feet on the ground and move forward just a foot.
And then a little bit more.
And then a couple of big steps.
And then a couple of metres.
And then along one side of the yard.
And then he was off! (Cautiously.)
The dogs thought it was great fun running around with him (possibly the most exercise they've had in a little while!).
The Little Big Fella was so impressed with himself!!!
Daddy started riding my pushbike around to keep up with the Little Big Fella, but then decided that his big motorbike was a much better idea!
The Little Big Fella wanted to show me, and then he wanted all his friends to come around and see him do it. And then he wanted to ride all yesterday, and all of today, and will probably ask first thing tomorrow morning!
The Big Fella was so impressed and excited that he called his parents, then my parents (who are part of the Ulysses) to brag.
It is definitely a momentous day in my son's life!
The whole process got me thinking a bit about fear though. The Little Big Fella had what he needed to move forward, but fear stopped him for months! And I wonder how many times I've let fear hold me back. And how many times others have helped me moved forward, little bit by little bit, until I realised I could do it on my own!
Maybe it's time to take a leaf out of my son's book and overcome a little (or big) fear.
.jpg)
And the Little Big Fella loved it from Day 1!
He literally did (and does) sit on it and pretend to be riding!
So either the Big Fella or I would jump on the back with the Little Big Fella and take him for rides around the yard, or just up the road to a big paddock, or around the lagoons.
At that point he was riding a pushbike with a handle on the back. He couldn't steer in a straight line, so we had to "adjust" his trajectory for him.
Over time he's gotten great at riding his pushy. He and I used to ride along the Esplanade on our bikes, and he even got to the point of riding over the ramps at the park.
When he ruined his "old" pushbike (I'm not sure toddler bikes are designed for skate ramps), the Big Fella bought him a really good BMX-style bike. It's tough and should last for at least a couple of years. Unlike his previous bike, which had back-pedal brakes, this one has handle-bar brakes.
During our rides together on the motorbike, we'd gotten to the point that the Little Big Fella did the majority of the steering and throttle control.
So now the Little Big Fella had developed the ability to ride in a straight line, and the ability to use handle-bar brakes, and an understanding of how to use the throttle. In theory, he could ride his motorbike all by himself.
In theory.
The problem is, he was too afraid.
The Little Big Fella had the skills he needed, he just needed the confidence in his abilities.
The Big Fella tried forcing the Little Big Fella to do it on his own. But that seemed to make him more afraid. He tried coercion, to no avail.
How do you help someone overcome their fear?
Sometimes the solution is to build that confidence little by little.
The Big Fella somehow got the Little Big Fella to sit on the motorbike all by himself. That in itself was a bit of a feat!
Then Daddy got his son to keep his feet on the ground and move forward just a foot.
And then a little bit more.
And then a couple of big steps.
And then a couple of metres.
And then along one side of the yard.
And then he was off! (Cautiously.)
The dogs thought it was great fun running around with him (possibly the most exercise they've had in a little while!).
The Little Big Fella was so impressed with himself!!!
Daddy started riding my pushbike around to keep up with the Little Big Fella, but then decided that his big motorbike was a much better idea!
The Little Big Fella wanted to show me, and then he wanted all his friends to come around and see him do it. And then he wanted to ride all yesterday, and all of today, and will probably ask first thing tomorrow morning!
The Big Fella was so impressed and excited that he called his parents, then my parents (who are part of the Ulysses) to brag.
It is definitely a momentous day in my son's life!
The whole process got me thinking a bit about fear though. The Little Big Fella had what he needed to move forward, but fear stopped him for months! And I wonder how many times I've let fear hold me back. And how many times others have helped me moved forward, little bit by little bit, until I realised I could do it on my own!
Maybe it's time to take a leaf out of my son's book and overcome a little (or big) fear.
Monday, 17 June 2013
What do you DO all day???
Okay, we've had our little rant about giving the guys a break and letting them be men. Now it's time for the stay-at-home mums.
Before I had the Little Big Fella, I wondered what stay-at-home mums did. I mean, it doesn't take that long to clean the house, does it? I could do it in a couple of hours on the weekend, after a full week at work, no worries!
And babies sleep so much! What on earth could mums do all day???
Although I kind of knew that it wasn't as easy as it seemed, I had quite a delusional concept of life at home, looking after the kids. I expected it to be pretty cruisey, and that keeping the house in immaculate condition, providing hours of educational entertainment for my child/ren and cooking wonderful, nutritional meals, all on a tight budget (obviously required because I wouldn't be working) would be a cinch!
Ha!
(Yes, that was definitely an Edna Krabapple impersonation!)
Turns out that being an at-home mum isn't as cruisey as it seemed (how's that for understatement, mums???).
Let's start with that new baby. Yeah, the one that takes an hour to feed, burp and change their nappy, then is ready to start again two hours later. Do that 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for say... a few months, and tell me how you're keeping it together. Oh! And have you been to the bathroom today? Lucky you! Had a shower this week?
So baby finally gets into some semblance of a routine, and you're getting a combined total of 8 hours sleep a night (seriously, that feels like being on speed!). But now baby is starting to move! All of a sudden, all those "trinkets" (read: CDs) aren't safe where they've been living, so the house suddenly gets a makeover.
Because, as much as you thought you'd just teach your child/ren not to touch, it turns out that saying "no" every 5 seconds is really annoying, and you actually need to do other things (like use the facilities, or cook dinner).
And because baby won't stay where you put him/her, and baby likes to put everything in their mouth, you feel the need to clean the floor after every meal, and several extra times a day if it rains (how does grass get inside when it rains, when no one has even been outside???).
And now baby is a toddler. They toddle over to the massive bookshelf and try to climb it. They toddle outside and attempt to navigate the stairs. They toddle around the side of the house and climb the lattice until they're higher than your head (hello my gorgeous nephew!!!!).
So you're attempting to keep your child/ren alive, whilst still trying to use the loo and/or cook dinner (mothers develop an incredible ability to do multiple things by this time).
Meanwhile, you're attempting to keep the house somewhere near liveable (you gave up immaculate the day your child was born!), and trying not to drown under Mount Washmore.
I thought that when the Little Big Fella went to kindy, I'd have some time to myself. Apparently I was still deluded.
Let me give you an example of a fairly typical day at this point in our lives:
I get up at 6 and start putting the dishes away to help myself fully wake up. I make my breakfast, and the Little Big Fella's, then after we've eaten I clean up. Then it's downstairs for about 20 minutes for my workout. The Little Big Fella watches a bit of TV, or sometimes comes down and talks to me, or tries to workout with me (always entertaining).
Then it's back upstairs to shower, dress, and do the last minute things before we officially start the day. I also dress the Little Big Fella (normally takes about 10 minutes because he has issues with "focusing" - I'm starting to think that toys in the bedroom is a bad idea).
Most days it would now be time to head out somewhere - kindy, or playgroup, or just to go check the mail. The rest of the morning is my most productive time and includes a selection of the following:
Before I had the Little Big Fella, I wondered what stay-at-home mums did. I mean, it doesn't take that long to clean the house, does it? I could do it in a couple of hours on the weekend, after a full week at work, no worries!
And babies sleep so much! What on earth could mums do all day???
Although I kind of knew that it wasn't as easy as it seemed, I had quite a delusional concept of life at home, looking after the kids. I expected it to be pretty cruisey, and that keeping the house in immaculate condition, providing hours of educational entertainment for my child/ren and cooking wonderful, nutritional meals, all on a tight budget (obviously required because I wouldn't be working) would be a cinch!
Ha!
(Yes, that was definitely an Edna Krabapple impersonation!)
Turns out that being an at-home mum isn't as cruisey as it seemed (how's that for understatement, mums???).
Let's start with that new baby. Yeah, the one that takes an hour to feed, burp and change their nappy, then is ready to start again two hours later. Do that 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, for say... a few months, and tell me how you're keeping it together. Oh! And have you been to the bathroom today? Lucky you! Had a shower this week?
So baby finally gets into some semblance of a routine, and you're getting a combined total of 8 hours sleep a night (seriously, that feels like being on speed!). But now baby is starting to move! All of a sudden, all those "trinkets" (read: CDs) aren't safe where they've been living, so the house suddenly gets a makeover.
Because, as much as you thought you'd just teach your child/ren not to touch, it turns out that saying "no" every 5 seconds is really annoying, and you actually need to do other things (like use the facilities, or cook dinner).
And because baby won't stay where you put him/her, and baby likes to put everything in their mouth, you feel the need to clean the floor after every meal, and several extra times a day if it rains (how does grass get inside when it rains, when no one has even been outside???).
And now baby is a toddler. They toddle over to the massive bookshelf and try to climb it. They toddle outside and attempt to navigate the stairs. They toddle around the side of the house and climb the lattice until they're higher than your head (hello my gorgeous nephew!!!!).
So you're attempting to keep your child/ren alive, whilst still trying to use the loo and/or cook dinner (mothers develop an incredible ability to do multiple things by this time).
Meanwhile, you're attempting to keep the house somewhere near liveable (you gave up immaculate the day your child was born!), and trying not to drown under Mount Washmore.
I thought that when the Little Big Fella went to kindy, I'd have some time to myself. Apparently I was still deluded.
Let me give you an example of a fairly typical day at this point in our lives:
I get up at 6 and start putting the dishes away to help myself fully wake up. I make my breakfast, and the Little Big Fella's, then after we've eaten I clean up. Then it's downstairs for about 20 minutes for my workout. The Little Big Fella watches a bit of TV, or sometimes comes down and talks to me, or tries to workout with me (always entertaining).
Then it's back upstairs to shower, dress, and do the last minute things before we officially start the day. I also dress the Little Big Fella (normally takes about 10 minutes because he has issues with "focusing" - I'm starting to think that toys in the bedroom is a bad idea).
Most days it would now be time to head out somewhere - kindy, or playgroup, or just to go check the mail. The rest of the morning is my most productive time and includes a selection of the following:
- food shopping (How can two small words equal such a big task??? Drive to the shop, no worries. Select the food, yeah, okay. Go through the register, starting to get stressed out if I have the Little Big Fella with me. Drive home, okay. Drag the bags upstairs. Put everything away, whilst being hassled about everything from putting on a superhero suit, to eating something, to watching a movie, to visiting friends, to going to the park...)
- clothes washing (Again, two small words that equal a big job)
- vacuuming
- mopping
- putting stuff away (There's always plenty of that to do, even though we've downsized so much and have such a little house)
- dishes
- food preparation (I try to prepare a bunch of things at the start of the week so that I have easy food on-hand)
- changing the bedding
- cleaning the bathroom
- putting more stuff away (I told you, there's always plenty of this to do!)
- more dishes
- whipper snipping and mowing (because of the Big Fella's hours, I end up doing this about half the time.)
- cleaning the car, inside and out
- feeding the dogs
- washing and flea-treating the dogs
- putting stuff away downstairs or outside
Now, if you separate those tasks out to the days of the week, they don't seem like that big a deal, right? But now add a pre-schooler with no siblings. A pre-schooler who is really getting ready for big school. A pre-schooler who is starting to get bored at home!
Now we need to add in the millions of requests and interruptions! Things like those listed in the food shopping note - superhero costumes (at least 4 changes every day, sometimes 4 in 15 minutes!), movies, friends, food, drink, toilet assistance (some of those costumes can be tricky!), can we go to the park? Can we visit my friend? Can we go to the toy store? Can I have something to eat (literally every 5 minutes when he's having a growth spurt)? I want to watch Batman. I want to look at costumes (online, mind you!). Mum, I'm hungry.
Are you annoyed yet? Try having that as the constant soundtrack to your day for a few days. How about a couple of months? And then try to get something done. Try going to the bathroom and being interrupted by a pre-schooler who needs the only toilet in the house and can't go on the grass because he needs to do...
Yeah, we won't finish that sentence.
Well! We've made it to lunch time! Congratulations!!!! Now we get to have the "I don't want that" conversation (which will be repeated at dinner time). It generally goes with the "I've made it for you and that's what you're having" soundtrack.
Now, considering that we're modern-day mothers, we also think it's important to attempt to educate our children and provide them with rich, learning experiences. Because "good" mums do arts and crafts with their kids, and cook with them, and teach them their letters and numbers before they go to school, and sing songs, and read books, and play. And then we also want them to socialise (and, yes, we want to get a break from it all too).
If we're lucky (and no, I'm not anymore) our child/ren will have an afternoon nap and we'll get a bit of time to sit down without being jumped on or demanded of, or catch up with a few people on Facebook, or read a bit of a book, or catch up on the housework that needs doing that didn't get done this morning.
Late afternoon, for us, is often outside. It normally includes me taking the washing off the line, while the Little Big Fella plays in his sandpit or with the dogs, or jumps on his trampoline, or plays with the little girl next door. Often it will include a ride to the park to play with whoever is there, while the mums have a chat.
Then it's home to prepare dinner. For most mums this is a stressful time of day. You're attempting to make a nutritious meal for your family, but being interrupted, or "helped", or it might just be that everyone has run out of patience for the day.
Dinner, because it's so nutritious, will probably include the "I don't like that" conversation with at least one person.
Then it's time to have a shower or bath and put the lovely little munchkin/s to bed. I'm super lucky in this one because the Little Big Fella enjoys his shower, and when he's tired, he's happy to go to bed (in fact, he's grumpy if there's not a bed to go to).
But even with this "dream" child, there's the inevitable nights where he'll be up and down, or calling for me to "come sit with me, Mummy", or just not tired and can't fall asleep.
And then, even though he sleeps through the night, there's the nights where illness or bad dreams interrupt sleep.
See, being a mum isn't "hard" per se. But being on call, 24/7 is. And even when someone else is looking after your child/ren, you still wonder about them: How are they going? Are they having fun? Are they behaving? Have they made friends? Should I really have let him go to kindy today, because he had a bit of a runny nose? Is he going to be too hot/cold? Will he be okay with those pants, because they have a zip?
And our expectations of ourselves are often ridiculously high.
So, when you come into the home of a stay-at-home mum, and the floors aren't quite clean, there's dishes all over the sink, toys scattered everywhere, and people looking a little disheveled, don't think "what do you do all day?". Because it's possible that it hasn't been the best day, and said mum already feels like a failure right now.
Or she's decided that today is about spending time with her kids, rather than making the house "presentable".
Or maybe she just decided that she needed a "mental health" day, and the TV has been on all day so she could read, or spend some time on Facebook, or maybe, just maybe, go to the bathroom in peace ;-)
Saturday, 30 March 2013
Turning 4
A couple of days ago my Little Big Fella turned 4.
It's official.
He's now a "big boy" (according to him at the very least).
And because I'm blogging, I get to be the soppy mum for a minute and say I'm so proud of who he's turning out to be.
He's smart and funny and entertaining and fun to be around. He can be generous and exceptionally loving. He loves playing with his friends, but is also happy to play alone (lucky really, given that he's an only child!).
He's just as anal as me about things being done "right". He's very good at demanding to be heard (especially if I'm on the phone or talking to someone else) and he generally knows what he wants.
I'm enjoying watching him change and grow and discover, and I wonder what kind of a "big boy" he'll be, and what kind of man.
Anyway, enough of the self-gratifying reflections, let's get on to the good stuff!
The night before his birthday, the Big Fella and I blew up a few balloons and hung them in the living area, and I put the present from us and from one set of grandparents on the table.
When he woke up and came to the living area he was stoked by the balloons! Amazing how something so small can be so exciting when you're that young :-)
Then, of course, he saw the presents and was into it!!! We started with the one from the Big Fella's parents.
Obviously the Little Big Fella had to have a go too :-D And he LOVED it! No doubt that book will be regularly referenced in the future!
Well, as much fun as planes are, there was another present to open so we dragged the Little Big Fella back to the table to see what was there.
Insert side story here:
The Little Big Fella has been thoroughly enjoying the few dress-ups that he has over the past few months, so I'd considered buying him another one for his birthday. But I hadn't gotten around to it.
So last week I was looking at super hero costumes online. You know, Iron Man, the Green Lantern, Spiderman... I couldn't decide which one I thought my son would like best, so I decided to get him involved.
I sat him on my lap and we looked through a few pages of boys costumes. He was quite taken with the Green Lantern... until he saw...
Yep, it is! Darth Vader! Not a Jedi costume, but Darth Vader. This is what he chose out of all the superheroes we looked at!!!
Of course, he had to try it on and show himself in the mirror straight away :-D
When we got home from playgroup, the Big Fella had been to the post office and discovered another present for the birthday boy. This one was from my parents.
It was an Iron Man 3 figure with car and guns and it got an absolute workout! It almost got taken to the park in the afternoon, but thankfully I was able to talk the Little Big Fella out of that one.
The Easter event at the park that afternoon was great fun too. Funnily enough, the Little Big Fella thought it was his party in the park! He got to play with his best friend, and plenty of his other friends. They had sno cones (crushed ice with incredibly sweet coloured syrup) and fairy floss and a little jumping castle!!! And the Little Big Fella won a prize for the Easter hat he'd made in playgroup that morning!
Talk about a massive day!
Originally I'd planned to have a couple of the Little Big Fella's friends over for a small party, then have a cake at the park for everyone. But because of playgroup and then the Lions event, I'd decided not to.
But the Little Big Fella kept talking about having his friends at his house for a birthday party, so I decided to go ahead and have one.
Unlike previous parties, I didn't want to spend weeks (months) preparing for it and wanted to make it pretty simple. So I made a superhero cape for each of the boys, got some cardboard masks, a Spiderman pez dispenser and a bag of teddy biscuits and made that the party bag, intending to give it to each of the boys as they arrived.
As well as the balloons we'd put up the day before, I stuck some streamers around the place and that was it for decoration.
For food I just did a plate of fruit, a bowl of chips (crisps), and some party pies and sausage rolls with sauce.
Well, unfortunately the party with a few friends didn't quite turn out as expected.
The Little Big Fella's best friend went camping first thing on the day of the party.
Another friend woke up with a tummy bug that morning so couldn't come.
The third friend's mum had booked an appointment with the hairdresser so couldn't get to the party.
So only one friend (and his sister) ended up coming. And they had a great time and the Little Big Fella thought it was awesome! He even took off his Darth Vader costume and let his friend try it on!!!
It was definitely the most laid back party I've done so far, but apparently it was still a success! Hip, hip... hooray!!!!!
It's official.
He's now a "big boy" (according to him at the very least).
And because I'm blogging, I get to be the soppy mum for a minute and say I'm so proud of who he's turning out to be.
He's smart and funny and entertaining and fun to be around. He can be generous and exceptionally loving. He loves playing with his friends, but is also happy to play alone (lucky really, given that he's an only child!).
He's just as anal as me about things being done "right". He's very good at demanding to be heard (especially if I'm on the phone or talking to someone else) and he generally knows what he wants.
I'm enjoying watching him change and grow and discover, and I wonder what kind of a "big boy" he'll be, and what kind of man.
Anyway, enough of the self-gratifying reflections, let's get on to the good stuff!
The night before his birthday, the Big Fella and I blew up a few balloons and hung them in the living area, and I put the present from us and from one set of grandparents on the table.
When he woke up and came to the living area he was stoked by the balloons! Amazing how something so small can be so exciting when you're that young :-)
Then, of course, he saw the presents and was into it!!! We started with the one from the Big Fella's parents.
Now, the Little Big Fella hasn't made paper planes before, so didn't really understand what his new (BIG) book was about. The Big Fella just happened to have picked up a foam plane the day before but hadn't put it together or shown the Little Big Fella. So to give him an idea of what you can do with paper planes, he made up the foam one.
Obviously the Little Big Fella had to have a go too :-D And he LOVED it! No doubt that book will be regularly referenced in the future!
Well, as much fun as planes are, there was another present to open so we dragged the Little Big Fella back to the table to see what was there.
Insert side story here:
The Little Big Fella has been thoroughly enjoying the few dress-ups that he has over the past few months, so I'd considered buying him another one for his birthday. But I hadn't gotten around to it.
So last week I was looking at super hero costumes online. You know, Iron Man, the Green Lantern, Spiderman... I couldn't decide which one I thought my son would like best, so I decided to get him involved.
I sat him on my lap and we looked through a few pages of boys costumes. He was quite taken with the Green Lantern... until he saw...
Yep, it is! Darth Vader! Not a Jedi costume, but Darth Vader. This is what he chose out of all the superheroes we looked at!!!
Of course, he had to try it on and show himself in the mirror straight away :-D
That costume stayed on him almost literally all day! And most of the next day too!
He wore it when we went to playgroup (and unfortunately accidentally hit one of the kids with his light saber).
He wore it when we got home and for the afternoon.
And he wore it when we went to the park for an Easter event held by our local Lions club.
Suffice to say, he's happy with his birthday present :-)
When we got home from playgroup, the Big Fella had been to the post office and discovered another present for the birthday boy. This one was from my parents.
It was an Iron Man 3 figure with car and guns and it got an absolute workout! It almost got taken to the park in the afternoon, but thankfully I was able to talk the Little Big Fella out of that one.
The Easter event at the park that afternoon was great fun too. Funnily enough, the Little Big Fella thought it was his party in the park! He got to play with his best friend, and plenty of his other friends. They had sno cones (crushed ice with incredibly sweet coloured syrup) and fairy floss and a little jumping castle!!! And the Little Big Fella won a prize for the Easter hat he'd made in playgroup that morning!
Talk about a massive day!
Originally I'd planned to have a couple of the Little Big Fella's friends over for a small party, then have a cake at the park for everyone. But because of playgroup and then the Lions event, I'd decided not to.
But the Little Big Fella kept talking about having his friends at his house for a birthday party, so I decided to go ahead and have one.
Unlike previous parties, I didn't want to spend weeks (months) preparing for it and wanted to make it pretty simple. So I made a superhero cape for each of the boys, got some cardboard masks, a Spiderman pez dispenser and a bag of teddy biscuits and made that the party bag, intending to give it to each of the boys as they arrived.
As well as the balloons we'd put up the day before, I stuck some streamers around the place and that was it for decoration.
For food I just did a plate of fruit, a bowl of chips (crisps), and some party pies and sausage rolls with sauce.
Well, unfortunately the party with a few friends didn't quite turn out as expected.
The Little Big Fella's best friend went camping first thing on the day of the party.
Another friend woke up with a tummy bug that morning so couldn't come.
The third friend's mum had booked an appointment with the hairdresser so couldn't get to the party.
So only one friend (and his sister) ended up coming. And they had a great time and the Little Big Fella thought it was awesome! He even took off his Darth Vader costume and let his friend try it on!!!
It was definitely the most laid back party I've done so far, but apparently it was still a success! Hip, hip... hooray!!!!!
Friday, 8 February 2013
Times are a-changing
This week was the Little Big Fella's first "full" week (3 days) of kindy.
On Monday he cried when I left. As in, bawled his poor little eyes out. Gosh that's hard for a mother to take! Even though you know he's going to be fine, and will probably stop crying as soon as you're out of sight, it tears at you.
Of course, by the time we picked him up that afternoon, the Little Big Fella was telling us how much he liked kindy and that he'd had a good day.
As we were getting ready on Tuesday morning, the Little Big Fella turns to me, with a quivering lip and says, "Mummy, I'm going to be shy at kindy today".
I turned to him and asked, "why? You said you had a great time at kindy yesterday."
After a little discussion about the things he likes at kindy, and the kids he plays with, I suggested that he try not being shy at kindy and see how that goes. He reluctantly agreed.
At kindy I signed him in and we put his things away. One of his friends came over and obviously wanted to play with him, so I encouraged the Little Big Fella to play, said goodbye and walked out. I didn't hear him cry, but thought there might have been a quivering lip.
On Wednesday morning at kindy I signed him in and we put his things away. He dragged me over to the reading room, where another boy was doing a puzzle. The Little Big Fella watched and then tried to help (I'm not real sure the other boy wanted help, but what's that got to do with anything???). When the puzzle was done, my Little Big Fella turned around, gave me a kiss and a cuddle and said, "Mummy, it's time for you to go now".
Have you ever had conflicting emotions? Right then, mine were an internal fist-pump, and my heart breaking (okay, I'm being a little melodramatic - but I did feel slightly rejected).
I think I might have found the right words to explain what's going on. For almost four years, I have been everything to my Little Big Fella, and he has been almost everything to me (Big Fella not excluded, of course!). Now, all of a sudden our lives are beginning to diverge. Of course it's a necessary, healthy thing, but it's still a bit of a shock to the system!
On Tuesday, on a whim the Big Fella and I decided to go to our closest major town. We got to spend almost six hours exclusively together!
There were no interruptions, there was no whining, there were no additional requests for the bathroom when we only went 5 minutes ago!
We even got to go to an Irish pub and have lunch together! It was SO pleasant! We even got to order food that the Little Big Fella probably wouldn't eat without complaining (and certainly not without making a huge mess!). Bliss, I tell ya!
I attended a CWA (Country Women's Association) meeting this week as well. The CWA is all about supporting people, especially women and children, in rural environments. They do all kinds of things, depending on the area and the needs they become aware of.
After my stay in our old town in December, I realised that I need to be doing something that helps people in one way or another. Because the playgroup will be using the CWA hall, a few of us decided we'd join the CWA and try to contribute through that avenue.
Speaking of the playgroup, I've been enlisted as Treasurer for this year. And I'm looking forward to being a more formal part of that group.
I've also applied for work, and even if I don't get this particular job, I'll be looking more seriously for part-time employment.
Last year I feel like I was kind of treading water - waiting for the move, slowly getting to know people here, working out how things work around here, waiting for kindy to start.
This year I feel like changes are happening that mean I'm moving forward again. And I think I'm ready for that :-)
On Monday he cried when I left. As in, bawled his poor little eyes out. Gosh that's hard for a mother to take! Even though you know he's going to be fine, and will probably stop crying as soon as you're out of sight, it tears at you.
Of course, by the time we picked him up that afternoon, the Little Big Fella was telling us how much he liked kindy and that he'd had a good day.
As we were getting ready on Tuesday morning, the Little Big Fella turns to me, with a quivering lip and says, "Mummy, I'm going to be shy at kindy today".
I turned to him and asked, "why? You said you had a great time at kindy yesterday."
After a little discussion about the things he likes at kindy, and the kids he plays with, I suggested that he try not being shy at kindy and see how that goes. He reluctantly agreed.
At kindy I signed him in and we put his things away. One of his friends came over and obviously wanted to play with him, so I encouraged the Little Big Fella to play, said goodbye and walked out. I didn't hear him cry, but thought there might have been a quivering lip.
On Wednesday morning at kindy I signed him in and we put his things away. He dragged me over to the reading room, where another boy was doing a puzzle. The Little Big Fella watched and then tried to help (I'm not real sure the other boy wanted help, but what's that got to do with anything???). When the puzzle was done, my Little Big Fella turned around, gave me a kiss and a cuddle and said, "Mummy, it's time for you to go now".
Have you ever had conflicting emotions? Right then, mine were an internal fist-pump, and my heart breaking (okay, I'm being a little melodramatic - but I did feel slightly rejected).
I think I might have found the right words to explain what's going on. For almost four years, I have been everything to my Little Big Fella, and he has been almost everything to me (Big Fella not excluded, of course!). Now, all of a sudden our lives are beginning to diverge. Of course it's a necessary, healthy thing, but it's still a bit of a shock to the system!
On Tuesday, on a whim the Big Fella and I decided to go to our closest major town. We got to spend almost six hours exclusively together!
There were no interruptions, there was no whining, there were no additional requests for the bathroom when we only went 5 minutes ago!
We even got to go to an Irish pub and have lunch together! It was SO pleasant! We even got to order food that the Little Big Fella probably wouldn't eat without complaining (and certainly not without making a huge mess!). Bliss, I tell ya!
I attended a CWA (Country Women's Association) meeting this week as well. The CWA is all about supporting people, especially women and children, in rural environments. They do all kinds of things, depending on the area and the needs they become aware of.
After my stay in our old town in December, I realised that I need to be doing something that helps people in one way or another. Because the playgroup will be using the CWA hall, a few of us decided we'd join the CWA and try to contribute through that avenue.
Speaking of the playgroup, I've been enlisted as Treasurer for this year. And I'm looking forward to being a more formal part of that group.
I've also applied for work, and even if I don't get this particular job, I'll be looking more seriously for part-time employment.
Last year I feel like I was kind of treading water - waiting for the move, slowly getting to know people here, working out how things work around here, waiting for kindy to start.
This year I feel like changes are happening that mean I'm moving forward again. And I think I'm ready for that :-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)