Good Night, Two Year Old


Good night my little two year old.
Tomorrow you will wake and be three.
You will smile and clap and giggle at Easter eggs and presents.

You are a beautiful, bubbly, impatient, helpful, petulant,  intelligent tiny human being.

You are so petite that people are surprised When they hear you talk.
You speak so clearly and youhave a way with words.
You are so adorable it hurts.
Everywhere we go, you get comments on your blonde curls. Your smile. Your cheeky laugh.

It all went by in the blink of an eye.
When did you go from a tiny little baby in a hug-a-bub, keeping me awake at all hours to a little three year old as of tomorrow, that climbs into my bed in the middle of the night, voice all muddled with sleep asking for s snuggle and curling in against my stomach.
You still can curl up in the space where you were once held in my belly.
Seeing you like that, feeling you there, you’re still just a baby.
My beautiful, gorgeous, fantastic, impulsive, hilarious baby.

You just amaze me. Every day you say something new, do something new, something sweet.
You love your brother with all your heart and you would do anything for him, as much as he drives you to tears.

I can’t even say how much you complete my family baby girl.
And tomorrow, you’ll wake up my 3 year old. A new day. A new year. New journeys.
You’ll be in my arms as long as you fit, and even after that.

I love you.
Happy birthday.


Children; Life’s Little Awkward Moment Makers

So the other day we’re sitting at Nanna’s dining table with Lola and Dex was tiptoeing along the edges of tiles nearby.
Talking about their genitalia – as children are often inclined to.

Lola informs Nanna “I’ve got a vagina. and Dexter has a penis!”
To which Dexter adds “Yep! I do!” And wiggles in our general direction to emphasize the point.

Lola then sits and thinks for a second before telling Nanna “And Daddy has a BIIIIIIIIG penis!”
Because obviously everyone’s bits need to be discussed at the dining table.

Not to be outdone though because the next day:

In the parent’s room at the local shopping centre and we’re in the toilet 0 the one that has the small toilet and the big toilet.
Lola was on the little toilet and Dex was on the big toilet.
Dex had finished so I decided to do a wee also.

Once Lola had finished, we washed our hands and we’re walking out and Dex loudly says “Lola’s got a little vagina. Mummy has a BIG vagina. Little vagina’s don’t have hair on them.”


Geez, thanks guys.

P.S. These are things we discuss at home. We always talk about how it’s not appropriate for anyone to touch your vagina or penis. About how it is yours and yours alone and to tell either Mummy or Daddy if anyone touches you and makes you feel yucky.
We don’t shame any particular body part and all parts are talked about openly.

Priority Shift


This is what I woke up to this morning. my two amazing, beautiful children who had come into bed for snuggles. They climbed in at 6 am we slept until 8.

Last night, I felt a shift in my priorities.
As parents we are told so often to slow down, enjoy the time we have with our children because all too soon they will be grown up and they will be the ones who are too busy for us.

Last night, Dolores was crying at about 11:45pm and I went in to settle her. She just wanted a cuddle and didn’t want to be put down. I started getting frustrated and thinking about all the things I needed to do, the cleaning, the getting ready for work, the food prep, my course. I laid down on the bed, to put her to sleep, not because I really wanted to, but because it would be the quickest way to get back to what I needed to be doing.

Last night, as I laid there, with her warm weight on top of me, the weight of her body on my chest and her breathing slowing and rhythmic until she fell asleep, I realised this was exactly what I needed to be doing. This was a moment that would never come back. We would never have this day again. There would be others perhaps, but not this one.

And if I didn’t take that moment, who knew when the next one would be? How could I imagine anything was more important than my child being comforted to sleep in arms that will hold her no matter what.

Last night I realised that indeed, the vacuuming really will be there tomorrow. The clothes will be there, lunches can be bought, deadlines can be extended. But this? This beautiful fleeting moment? I may have never had that again. Especially if I didn’t take the chance when it came.

And so I will have these moments. And my vacuuming will wait. because although I am a lot of things, I am also a mother. And being a mother is the most important role I have.


The Really Important Things








I have been going to the gym a lot lately.
Pretty much every day to be honest. If I don’t do things like that every day, I find it easy to make excuses and it just falls to the wayside. If I get into the habit of going every day… Well, hopefully it sticks.

But I’ve found that I get so busy I miss the really important stuff.
It’s not really that important how many calories I burned at the gym on Saturday – not in the big scheme of things.

What is really important is the four glorious hours spent at the beach with my children when I decided “Stuff the housework” and packed our swimmers and towels (without them seeing, because the endless questions in the 20 minutes between packing/leaving and getting to our destination would have been too much) and we went to Boambee Bay.

The kids had an absolute ball.
I had an absolute ball.

And today, when it’s rainy and both kids are a little sick and a lot feral I can think about how great Saturday was.
And I can distract them with questions about what their favourite part of the day was.

It was definitely worth it.
The mess will wait.
At least if we’re not home, it won’t be added too 😉