#452 First Mother’s Day celebration at kinder

Oh man. Another Phil Collins moment.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment, all my life.”

True story. Like I have literally been looking forward to the day that baby girl brings home artwork and painting, after artwork and painting, from her kinder days. Like, actually, the very first painting she did at kinder, Hubbie and I were so excited, we decided we would FRAME IT.

So it comes to reason that when I heard they were doing an afternoon tea in celebration of this Sunday’s upcoming Mother’s Day, well, I was in my element.

And so that afternoon happened, today. Upon arrival, I was first given a hand massage by baby girl (heart tearing open)

We then did a shared hand-painting exercise, where we painted each others hands in varying colours and pressed it onto some paper as a future keepsake (our hand size comparison – so darn cute!)

We shared in some scones and biscuits as a little mid-activity treat (because sugar makes everything better)

The kids ran around, before they sat down with us parents to hear a story of a Mummy, turning into a monster when her kids don’t listen to her (highly, highly appropriate)

The kids then sang an “I Love you Mum” song, and I nearly burst out into tears at baby girl’s actions of hugging and blowing a kiss to the song’s words (I was tickling the roof of my mouth like CRAZY here*)

And then finally we got goodie bags, which contained a pot plant, and a handmade card from our kids (finally, presents!)

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There was also the portrait our littlies drew of us, and can I just say ‘Picasso!’

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Totally, no. She is 3. Still, I will cherish those squirls on a round face as my humanly representation, for a LONG time.

And like she really knew what it was all about… at two moments during the book reading, baby girl left her spot on the floor with all the other kids, and came to sit on my lap, and gave me a deliberate, and distinct, KISS on the cheek, accompanied by a great big warm hug.

And just like she does so often, in every day of our lives, she stole my heart all over again.

My heart is all torn up today, in the absolute bestest way possible :):):) And tonight’s sunset is a perfect metaphor for its blushing state.

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(*To prevent yourself from crying, tickling the roof of your mouth with your tongue is said to keep you from bawling like a baby… does it work? I think I am always too busy trying to inconspicuously do it, that my mind immediately becomes preoccupied with being so-not-obvious, and in doing so I forget I’m an emotional wreck… so there’s your answer) 😉

 

 

#401 Wiggles Band-Aids

I should really be grateful for my parents and my sister coming to visit us today. It has been way too long since my parents were over, and I was so excited to show the fam around, and head out by the bay into the still and fresh air, and say “here’s home.”

But no. Instead I am grateful for freaking Wiggles Band-Aids.

Because not even 15 minutes after their arrival, baby girl decided to bolt, Usain style, around the corner of the house, for no other reason other than she is a toddler and running is as normal to her as is refusing bedtime, wanting to eat chocolate, and deciding that Mum must not shop in peace. (For any non-parents that are confused, that means all of the above are NORMAL).

She tripped and fell on the uneven path out the back (one of our 1 billion to-dos on our no-existing to-do list) and scraped both her palms, so much so that skin was now missing. It didn’t look too bad – sure there was blood – but still, knowing that the skin had ripped off, even if ever so slightly, I knew it would be stinging.

And then there was the crying. Sure, she is a dramatic one, but she is also a trooper. She is tougher than some boys, and will normally get up after a fall, dusting herself off. That is how we raised her – ‘no fuss, up you go.’

But she would NOT stop.

I don’t think she was use to the constant stinging pain. Nothing would help, yet eventually after screaming the house down, we tried washing her hands, and also, applying Band-Aids.

She has never to this day, allowed Band-Aids on her. Which has made my life hard at times, because when I want to help cover a wound she’s gotten, she will scream “no!” ’til red in the face, and continue to wail. And cry. And moan. And scream.

While I rip my hair out trying to figure out how to help a girl that doesn’t want help.

But, after the application and removal of 8 Wiggles Band-Aids (this was due to the fact that as soon as they were on, they had to come off), we succeeded. Her last pair went on about midday, and thank God they’re still on. She’s napping with them.

Thank F&^% for themed Band-Aids. I don’t know what I would have done without them today.

#291 She comforts me

I was really upset. Crying made it better. Well, it was more sobbing, the kind of body-shaking, throat choked up, watery squinted eyes, high-pitched squeaks escaping from my lips type sobbing.

I hate to cry in front of her. Not because I think it shows weakness. No. I worry that she will worry too much about it, about me, and she is so young, so innocent and naïve about the world. It kills me to think it, but she will come across her own disappointments, letdowns and frustrations, to have to worry about mine now.

But baby girl climbed up on my lap. She grabbed my face and held it still, willing me to look her square in the eyes. Almost like a “hey! calm down, look at me” type action.

We met eyes. Mine were sad. Hers were curious and testing.

But within moments both our gazes matched. Happy. Relieved. Thankful.

I’m so grateful for what this inspiring girl brings to me on a tough day. She is little, yet no one else can turn my frown, upside down 😦 🙂

#290 I know her, and she is my best friend

I am grateful that I know my baby girl. Not just know her, in the way that you know someone’s eyes, the way they walk, their favourite show or even how they sleep on the same side every night.

I mean, I know her. I know the way she breathes. The way her heart beats. I know what she is thinking, and what she is going to do before she even does it. I know she runs to me whenever she needs something, and I am the only one that can fix it. No one else.

I know her inside out. I know when something is wrong. Like today. She has been sick lately, and we had a big day, which made it physically hard on her, despite her unfailing never-stop-play attitude. I knew what she needed at the end of the night, when she was crying her eyes out, exhausted. I took her to her room. I listened to her.

I didn’t use the excuse of her being tired, or unwell, to ignore her pleas for help. So many people do. “They don’t know what they want,” they argue. I disagree. She knew, I listened, and I am so grateful that I know this. Because by knowing this, it really shows that I know her.

Of course I do. She is my Angel. My beautiful girl. My cheeky monkey. My best friend, and my everything. In fact I think I am so lucky, in having a girl. Having a girl, means I get a best friend for life. Without question, she is immediately, with no reservations, wholly and completely my best friend. And I am immediately, with no reservations, wholly and completely her best friend in return. No matter what, this girl will always be in my corner, as I will always be in hers. Because she came from me, and I made her. The bond is never ending.

(It’s been a hard night. I really needed this self-speech tonight. At least I have someone).

#261 Sister’s phone call

She knew I was going through a hard time. Still, despite how busy and run off her feet she is, she called me this morning to see how I was.

That meant a lot.

We talked for a LONG while. I shed some tears, and also, many frustrations. We talked about the issues at hand… and though for some things there were avenues to be explored, with others it was just the good ol’ fashioned way: sit it out.

Sit in the crap, and know it WILL pass.

And that was it. I mean, it wasn’t just it. It was all, everything to me. But the conversation which probably went on for about an hour, didn’t magically solve all my problems. It was just having someone listen to, validate my feelings and emotions, and just having someone care. Someone try to think of how to make my life easier. Someone to actually give a damn. To go out of their way to help.

That someone is my sister. I am God damn lucky to have her.

And the phone call was well-timed. Although I had been emotional, I went on with the rest of my day in a newer light… thinking of the words she had said in the phone call, thinking of her…

Often it’s hard to be a glass-half full gal. Because when you’re down, you know you should get yourself up, get out of the funk, try and move on… and this acknowledgement is worse, as it makes you feel even unhappier that you are upset in the first place. You should know better, you tell yourself.

What’s gold, is having someone like my sister around. Because when my positive vibes aren’t flowing, she is there to lend me some of hers.

And all it took, was a phone call.

#246 Declarations of love no.1

She was especially needy. She had knocked into too many things to count today, and then she had fallen over and scraped her fingers when the empty rubbish bin she was trying to push up the driveway slipped. Concrete against soft toddler hands. Blood and peeling skin. Crying and crying. Man my heart cried for her.

And now at the end of a trying day, she wrapped her arms around me, pressing our faces close together, side by side. Hubbie watched nearby, and asked smiling “do you love Mama?”

“Da,” she replied, squeezing me tighter.

Awwww. Love, love, love.