A Very Bloggy Morning Tea at Typically Red

I'm sitting by the fire at Greer's place, Typically Red, this morning. A cup of tea in hand and hopefully a slice of cake coming soon. I'm reminiscing about what cake looked like as a child.

It's lovely here. You should come over. Great conversation, lots of storytelling and there's a rather fabulous giveaway. All for a very good cause.

See you there...




20/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Luca: We're into pirates. We make pirate ships out of boxes, we draw them on paper and there's much digging going on in the garden looking for treasuRRRR. Luca and Graeme even built a treasure chest out of leftover wood in the garage last weekend. I realised this week my nifty origami boat-making skill needn't stop at boats;  I made someone a pirate hat. It didn't fit, no matter how big a piece of paper I used, so we used yarn to secure. Luckily, Daddy came up with the eyepatch to make sure this person looked like a pirate... and not a nurse. (It was only when I uploaded this photo that we noticed his 'hook' – so in character.)

Kian: A morning walk with Sydney. He played a game of throwing his hands in the air and crashing down on the sand. I'm working hard to keep his layers on. We can't work out whether he doesn't feel the cold or if he's just plain stubborn. I know what the answer is when I sneak into his cold bedroom and see him all tightly curled up, his hands and feet tucked underneath him, his socks and blankets strewn across the floor.

Previous 52 posts

My favourite from the 52 family: I love seeing children climb trees and play in nature – this one of Bella at Little Buckles is truly beautiful.





A season of contrasts

Happy is Graeme working from home, going out for a coffee just the two of us, walking along a deserted beach, the cold sand rising between our toes, a scarf wrapped around my neck.

Happy is this season, bright and so very blue, the sun blinding you as it sets. That fresh start to the mornings has a zing to it and an energy that puts a spring in your step, while the cool early evenings come round so soon with skies so clear – we've been turning all the lights out inside to gaze at the moon's silvery light.

Happy is finding good ingredients where I least expect them and turning them into a slow-cooked stew that bubbles away for hours. An effortless meal that everyone enjoyed.

It's realising there's barely an hour before sunset and whisking the boys to the ocean after preschool and chasing them up and down the shore.

It's a fine bottle of red with that slow-cooked stew.

It's finding a place ten minutes away where wooden fences and liquid ambers line quiet country roads and horses run up to you from people's front yards. Amazing colours, crisp leaves aplenty to throw in the air and children lying down to hide amongst it all.

But hang on. That's not the whole truth.

Happy isn't a season that has seen more sick days than well days. Happy isn't being rendered voiceless and weak from a throat that flares for over a week, disappears for a few days only to come back again twice over, with two courses of antibiotics and now possibly a third. Happy isn't jumping amongst all those leaves knowing that I'd overdone it and sensing that I was about to come down again.

Happy isn't cancelling weekend plans that I'd been looking forward to and facing yet another week of raising my two lively children in the state I'm in, facing all the questions I have.

A couple of mantras I'm practicing to ease my frustration:

It's alright not to know the answers. They will come.

Give it time.

And my favourite...

I still have a mother's day facial and massage to book... with the best therapist I've ever come across. She'll come to my house once the boys are in bed with her mobile salon, wrap me in a fluffy robe and slippers, play her music and feed my skin with organic goodness and those magic hands of hers. I wish it were mother's day every month...

How do you cope when you have so many questions whirring around your head? What do you do to ease frustration? And have you been to play in autumn leaves yet? 




19/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Luca: He insisted on wearing his new $1 beanie to preschool, just as he insists on wearing odd socks wherever he goes. I couldn't resist asking if I could take some pictures. I ended up with some beautiful shots.

Kian: One of our favourite bays. The boys dug in the mud for crabs, fed two hungry ducks and ran along the pier. We sipped coffee and nibbled on all-butter croissants.

Previous 52 posts

My favourite from the 52 family: pretty ringlets, a pretty face and a pretty top – all belonging to Sage at Fields of Sage.




Two winners

It was easy coming up with the question for the giveaway, but I had no idea how hard it would be to choose two winners. I loved reading through what makes you Slow Heart Sing. So much of what you wrote resonated with me, and some of your words brought more than a tear to my eye.

With the giveaway now drawn to a close, I'm so grateful that I get to keep all your beautiful words here on the blog. I have read and reread them. These aren't just comments; a lot of them are your stories, your whole lives condensed into a few sentences – what makes you tick and how you like to live.

But how do I choose? Because as I type this exact word, I've yet to choose anyone. All I've done is jot down all your words that jump off the screen. Words that I can learn from, words to inspire.

waking up early and sitting out in the chilly air

connected to everyone and everything in the universe

the music is constant

the gratitude shows in his eyes

helping women get back to birthing with a calm confidence

realising the miracle that our children are

writing by my heart

helping people connect and become enthused about conservation

eating a meal that nourishes rather than just fills

dreaming of the children we might be lucky enough to have one day

we can change the world through our children

a generous soul can enrich the life of another through random acts of kindness

people that will continue to make this world a wonderful place for my children

watering the garden... a moment of total and utter bliss

helping my grandma as she expertly weeds, prunes and lovingly cares for her flowers

weeding the garden and my mind

my son reaching up to hold my hand... how much longer will he do this?

the slow realisation of dreams coming true

finding the time to remember and celebrate me

talking about family, creativity and documenting our flawed yet beautiful lives

being showered by a moment of pure clarity, gratitude and peace

one big heart beating with others... connecting, knowing that this is what love and life is about

taking steps to change my life to make a better life for my children

my baby on my chest, my little girl and husband by my side

creating a home that is nourishing my daughter's soul as well as her body

See what I mean? I would genuinely love to send you all something.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for sharing what you have.

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Winner of the first collection is Helen. 

Winner of the second collection is Ros (Anonymous).

Congratulations to the both of you! As it's taken me so long to get to this point today (!), I'll send you both emails tomorrow with the details.




School and creativity

I've been trying to write a few words on this ever since I wrote To school or not to school. But the words never came, at least because I didn't feel I had any answers. I've been torn, confused, anxious and generally unsettled.

Should we homeschool? Could I cope? Are mainstream schools the right place for Luca? Which school? Will he get to make sense of the world through his creativity as much as he does at home? Would he thrive with a curriculum that leans far too heavily on literacy and numeracy? Is there such a place where creativity and literacy are regarded as being equally important?

These questions and more have been whirring around my head for months. But we have resolved one thing: we've put the homeschooling idea away for good now. Despite the lovely emails I've received from homeschooling families hoping to encourage and inspire me and despite the amazing blogs I follow from homeschooling mothers, it's not the right path for Luca or for us.

I've had the courage to explore and really delve into other options, because I believe there are always more choices besides the straight-there approach that is often presented to us. The strong tendency I have (don't accept unless it feels absolutely right) is serving me well here.

And then there was the really big question: how will we ever get him to like the idea of 'big school'?

One day as we were driving behind a school bus, he was eager to learn about who gets on school buses, why parents don't get on, what the roads would look like if there were no school buses, how much fun they are... Then out of nowhere,

Luca: Why do some children go to school when they're five?

Me: Because they're ready to go.

Luca: Why didn't I go to school at five?

Me: You didn't feel you were ready for big school yet.

Luca: When will I be ready?

Me: I don't know, maybe when you're almost six? (Hoping, praying, with fingers and toes crossed, that I'd said the right thing.)

Luca: Yes, when I'm six. But can I come and visit the schools with you to see which one I like?

I felt an instant wave of relief, and I felt happy. Happy that we put school off and happy that we haven't pushed the school issue. The mere mention of big school has made him frown and turn inwards; sometimes it's a desperate 'I don't want to go' and other times his behaviour over the course of that day and the days that follow says it all. He had no wish to join friends that had started school this year.

All this has changed now. I'm breathing so much better and we're talking about the prospect of school.

He knows I've been to visit several schools already. I've called and made appointments with the Principals and asked for a tour each time. I feel my way around the school, and note how it measures up based on any flutters I feel and information I glean. We've narrowed it down to two schools but we're not in their zones. If, despite all my efforts, he doesn't get in (and there are only ever a handful of out-of-zone places on offer), we're prepared to move at the end of the year so that he does.

Just like my mum – who was told by the one school she wanted in the south of England that all classes were full for my year and my sister's year, and that she'd have to take us elsewhere. She made an urgent appointment and marched into the Principal's office with both of us by her side, impressing upon him that we'd be an asset to his school, waving our Egyptian school reports in his face and demanding that he find room for us.

He did.

I'll do the same. I'll show them his incredible works of art, the way he interprets stories on a page. I'll talk endlessly about his beautiful spirit, his thirst for knowing and his kindness towards others.

I have faith that it will work out and I have faith we'll make the right decision, but I need to have faith that the system won't deaden his imagination and creativity. Right now, that's my main worry.

Education isn't about getting on that school bus and sitting in a classroom all day (like I did as a child). I know that our job, as parents, to educate won't be any lighter come next year; it'll be more important than ever if we want to nurture his spirit and that wonderful individuality of his.

Do you struggle with the traditional approach to education for your children? How do you compensate? How do you keep imagination alive when they're at school for five days and come home tired?  





18/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Luca: The day before he pumped for yabbies in the lagoon with Daddy and Opa. He inspected his bucket of goodies as soon as he rose this morning and couldn't wait to play with them, nippers and all. Three generations headed out once again to fish, using the yabbies as bait. Luca was in charge of the bucket, naturally.

Kian: He was a little cautious of those nippers, but he wanted to fish like everyone else. Grabbing the second fishing rod, he waited patiently with Opa... And just before we were about to leave, a little whiting. His very first fish.

Autumn Giveaway

My favourite from the 52 family: that mesmerising picture of Lola with the light catching her face over at Typically Red. Greer's blog was one of the first I started following two years ago when I first discovered this world. Today I realise I'm going to meet this lady at long last. In twelve days' time I'm going to run up (she suggests in slow motion) and give her a big hug. I wonder if she'll have a cheesy triangle in her handbag somewhere for me?




17/52

"A portrait of my children, once a week, every week, in 2013."

Luca: Another ear infection so he couldn't get wet, but that didn't stop him chasing other people's bubbles and running barefoot along the shore. We found anemones, climbed around the rock pools and ate sandy grapes. Exactly a week later and two sets of sandy, salt-crusted clothes are still sitting outside on the doorstep. I'll get to them, I keep thinking.

Kian: Barefoot on the grass. I wonder sometimes why we bother buying shoes for this one. He takes them off whenever he can. Very rarely do I bring him home with the sandals on his feet. Reading the importance of walking barefoot to earth ourselves, to anchor and calm, I wonder if perhaps Kian instinctively knows what he's doing. I won't sigh the next time he hands me his shoes and runs off. Perhaps I should do the same.

My favourite from the 52 family: a heart-shaped face with big, big eyes and perfect lips over at Inked in Colour. So captivating.

Come and enter my giveaway for cooks, gardeners, kids and lovers of clean, natural living...