#879 Wiggly World Cup

The Wiggly tradition continued today.

Us BIG kids (sis and I), took the little kids along the beachside for yet another mid-year intimate (1500 kind of ‘intimate’) Wiggles Show. It was amazing as usual, and every time I see this group I just love them more and more.

IMAG1922

IMAG1950

The karma they are getting from making so many children and their parents happy… that power will be able to bring peace on earth in the near future.

It is, truly something special.

And although there were new memories made, like baby girl handing her bouquet of flowers to Lachy, and my nephew getting his own special signed card from all of the Wiggles themselves… something else is at the forefront of my mind, a small moment, that is actually a pretty BIG moment, that nonetheless has me feeling super grateful and happy.

It also, like the Wiggles shows we attend so reliably, has to do with tradition, family, and love… but this moment can perhaps only happen every 4 years, and even then it is not guaranteed.

This lack of opportunity and the fact of pure chance, is what trumps the other moments of the day.

I am of course, talking about the World Cup 🙂

I was awake early this morning for yet another nail biter, though I didn’t anticipate it was going to turn out that way. Croatia were playing against England, and they were down 1-0.

From the way they were playing, I honestly didn’t have high hopes. I was feeling under the weather, super tired, and was questioning if I should have a TV in the bedroom rather than only the lounge room, just so I could fall asleep easier after the fact… when Croatia suddenly levelled when they scored a goal.

Immediately, things changed. Fast forward to extra time, and they scored yet another goal, bringing them in front of England.

I lost my mind.

Goals are hard to come by in soccer. I jumped up on the couch, throwing the cushion around, whispering “yes yes yes!” in a high-pitched tone. Hubbie had just joined me for his breakfast before heading off to work, and looked incredulously between my out-of-control display, to the TV, his luck at having walked in on exactly the right moment to see the winning goal.

There were 11 minutes to go. It wasn’t over. But like I said, goals are hard to come by in soccer.

As we sat there, Hubbie and I, staring at the screen in stupefied shock and all of my World Cup dreams realising before me, we heard some movement behind a door.

We stared at the closed door off towards the bedroom side of the house, and then saw as the handle slowly turned, and baby girl stick her head out from behind it.

She had found us. My celebration as quiet as I had tried to be, had woken her. It was super-early for her to be up, but there was no chance in hell I was going to put her back to bed when there was history-making soccer to be watched.

So in true responsible parenting-style… she stayed up with me.

I rugged her up with throws and blankets, she stared at Hubbie at I in a kind of shock at us sitting on the couch and reacting to TV as strongly as we were, so early in the morning… and then as I explained to her that Croatia were winning, and what was going on, and that Mummy didn’t always get up at crazy hours to jump on the couch over a ball on the TV… she relaxed a little, started mucking about a bit more, and took it all in.

And it was then, that I realised.

She is almost 5. This will surely be her first World Cup Soccer memory. Walking in to find Mum and Dad excited and Mum losing her shit on the couch, over one of the countries she resides from.

And that there. What a beautiful memory. And it means so much to me now, as I know what it will mean to her in the future. Because I’ve had those same memories, and I continue to.

As I’ve said it before… the outcome really doesn’t matter… because it’s the memories that WIN over everything ♥♥♥

davor-denkovski-703054-unsplash

Photo by Davor Denkovski on Unsplash

#873 Her love of pasta

I know kids generally love eating carbs. Plain foods, with not much discernible taste. Bread. Rice. Cucumber. Corn. Potatoes.

I have always loved my carbs, and believed myself to be of Italian descendance in a past-life, so strong was my love for durum wheat flour mixed with eggs/water.

But baby girl? Her love of PASTA not only amazes me – it fascinates me, baffles me, and it heavily amuses me.

And it follows that something that should humour me, should also be something I am grateful for. 🙂

This girls antics are hilarious. She celebrates the knowledge of pasta being made for dinner at night, like a lottery win! Just tonight, when she saw the packet beside the stovetop, she shrieked “YAY PASTA!” grabbed the packet and hugged it to her chest before kissing it over and over and over and over again.

Oh gawd.

It is really so sweet. And I find it so because it brings things back to basics, showing that the fact she is so happy about really, such a simple thing… it highlights her young age, and represents her naivety.

Both things I long to keep forever.

But in absence of ignorant youthfulness…. there will always be pasta 😉

IMAG1610

#866 Dancing in another place, with my loves

It’s not a good thing when you stave off dancing for a considerable length of time.

And I don’t mean the boppy, jump up and down kind of baby girl’s fave dance group Pnau. Nor am I talking of the swaying sensations of Hubbie’s preference Sia, or the hip-shaking rhythms of my, Ricky Martin.

No. What I’m referring to here is the funky feet of folk.

Folk dancing. It is a whole other dance, rhythm and culture all of itself. When you grow up listening to it, it surrounds your family parties, and you partake by dancing along to it whole-heartedly at these festive get-togethers, it creates the very important foundation of shared family love, memories and ALL the happy times.

This time however, it wasn’t in our kitchen. Sure, baby girl and I were present, but Hubbie was at work.

We were in a lounge room. Not our lounge room. My OLD lounge room. And the third person present was my Dad.

We were at my parents place.

🙂

Baby girl loves to put it on. There is a small stereo in the lounge room, with a permanently placed folk cd inside. She turns it on, winds up the volume, and happily starts jumping along.

How happy that makes me, that at only 4, that type of music is already engrained into her.

“Come on Mama, dance!”

I tagged along.

I should warm up, right? When ever there we do any kind of ‘warming up’ as we call it, it’s usually because some big family event is coming up, and we need to get our cold dancing feet fired up and ready.

But today the only warming up was done for just thatwarming up. It was cold, there hadn’t been a get-together to get us jumping in ages, and yet I still felt the urge to get the blood pumping, knowing it would help the chills of this, our June day.

I started jumping beside baby girl, with no real rhythm, just to make her happy.

“Come on Deda!”

I looked at my Dad, all comfortable and cosy on the couch. There was as much chance of him getting up to join us as there was in the day moving above 20 degrees.

“Baby girl, leave Deda, he is resting.”

He looked to agree with that statement as I said it, but then as I kept on leaping in the air with baby girl, I saw him get up, and start to –

one two, one two three, one two three, one two three

He was dancing!

“Good job Deda!” I yelled to him.

Baby girl smiled in happiness, and on he, and now I, inspired by his professionalism in the act, kept on going, doing it the right way

one two, one two three, one two three, one two three

Our feet kicking the in air, moving from left to right and left again, and baby girl telling me all the while –

THAT I WAS DOING IT ALL WRONG.

Sure honey. Because she’s the folk-dancing boss.

So I copied her kicks in the air from side to side and left to right, and suddenly she was much more impressed.

(Face palm).

But for those few moments, the three of us mucking about, folk music in the air, legs kicking around wildly…

I reckon the room temperature DID reached 20. 😉

 

#862 K2 Swimmer

It’s such a simple thing that has me feeling grateful today. It is about growth.

Baby girl has been doing swimming lessons now for just under 2 months. She shares the class most of the time, with a boy, and a fellow girl, who I can only say is slightly younger than her just based on her size. Although younger, this girl can swim with her head in the water, legs kicking furiously, for almost half a lap. She has clearly been doing this for a while.

Monday nights are crazy, in that half of the Peninsula is there at the swim school between 3 and 6pm, all the lanes packed full of classes containing kindergarten and primary school-aged kids, all with varying levels of skill and ability.

And as these lessons take place, so too do you see the ‘walkers.’ The swim teachers who aren’t in the lane, but they are doing their rounds, their walk-a-bouts, checking attendance when they approach each teacher, and also, from time to time, checking the children’s progress.

It was baby girl’s class’ turn today.

She approached baby girl’s teacher, and from my position I could see them exchange some words – suddenly baby girl was in the water, and demonstrating how she could push off and kick with her kickboard. They nodded in understanding, but then I didn’t see the rest of baby girl’s progress, as she moved from my view behind a huge brick pillar.

I watched the other children partake – both the boy with permanent goggles on his face, and the younger, feisty girl. They both did longer laps, kicked for a decent duration, and were able to travel a greater distance than baby girl. I mean, it made sense. They had been doing this longer.

Sure, she could put her head under water. She didn’t get worried when her face got splashed on. And she was getting amazing at her floating, even doing it by herself! She just wasn’t as skilled as the other two yet, in travelling a lap-type distance.

I watched the ‘walker’ give some positive encouragement to the kids when they were done. She high-fived each of them, and then headed on over to us parents, to give us the update.

I was the last parent to get the news.

“She’s doing great!” she exclaimed to me. “She’ll be moving up a level!”

Really? I thought. I’m the first to praise my child, but also I am not blind.

“Wow!” I said out loud. “That’s great!”

She went on to explain that from baby girl’s K1 level, her goals had been to make four kicks with a kickboard – that was achieved today, and with her other skillsets, was now able to move to K2.

“She’ll still stay in that class, as it is both K1 and K2,” she went on. “But she will be going home with a certificate today.”

Oh. Now it made sense.

As the ‘helper’ headed off to review more kids, I was beaming. Rapt. Next time baby girl looked over at me, I gave her not 1, but 2 thumbs up.

I was so proud.

It was such a simple thing, yes. But as I always say, the simple things are the most important.

And though it may seem like an everyday, average event…. the feelings I got were far from. 🙂

#835 4 year-old kinder progress

There were a lot of notes I made in my head today. All while watching baby girl.

Firstly, I love it the most when she doesn’t know I am watching her – this is for anything. Whether it’s playing with her toys at home, or playing at kinder, I gain so much by watching her nature and character unfold when she doesn’t know I’m there.

Today I watched her interact with others. As I walked towards the kinder gates, I watched her learn in the yard as she dug in the garden. I watched her run around and bolt from kid to kid, even more excitedly so since there was a visiting choir from a nearby primary school come to show off their talents, and let’s face it, try to gain more enrolments from our kinder kids in the process.

I watched amused, as she put up her hand with few others to volunteer and play some instruments – this is a room of primarily grade 1 to grade 3s – I was impressed. My girl, not intimidated? Wanting to go up there and give it a go?

I watched as she later found a friend, and they wrapped their legs around each other in a hug so that they were swaying back and forth on the swing together. I hung back, smiling, as it reminded me of my own neighbours and I at that age, swinging at our local park.

I watched with OCD-pride, as she found a toy in the sandpit, and promptly took it to its correct location at the dollhouse table.

And then as I was leaving with her for the day, I threw in a casual line to one of the teachers: “How is she going?” We were alone in the foyer. There was no one to distract her from answering.

“She’s excellent.”

Phew. Sure, she paints more than she cuts up bits of paper she said… but that’s a fun thing I’m sure we can work on together 🙂

A day where I was made grateful for my daughter’s  progress. In confidence, in learning, in playing… and in Life.

(This post comes a day late due to technical difficulties posting it from home 😉 )

 

#833 The Craft Table

What do parents want most from their kids when they are out at a function/party/catch-up?

To behave? Well yes that is to be expected…

To not go psycho/over-dramatic/warped in a tantrum-throwing way? Duh.

To eat their food so as not to be left irritated, flat and needy? Hell yes.

To not overdose on the sweets and be high as a kite for hours afterwards? (We want this but try avoid sweets with clever kids around).

But let’s really think. What would make parents the MOST happiest at a function with their kids?

Why, something to keep their curious hands BUSY.

IMAG1183

There is possibly no greater sigh of relief (other than the closely-contested exhale we do when we see kid-friendly chips, chicken and pizza on the party menu) than when we see our children will be kept happy, entertained and BUSY, for an infinite amount of time.

Because it means us as parents get to chill out too.

Today at one such function, it was just the basics: play doh; colouring in; and stickers. Nothing fancy, all old-school.

And yet it kept my girl entertained for the ENTIRE time.

All together now… EXHALE.

#830 Kinder kid cuddles

As she was walking down the path out of her kindergarten today next to me, there were shout-outs from behind her.

“Bye bye (boy name!)”

Baby girl turned, and despite her name not being called (instead it was the boy in front of us) she yelled back “bye bye!”

I laughed at baby girl’s selective hearing, and then was even more amused when the girl who had called out yelled –

“Wait baby girl, I need to give you cuddles!”

I watched, smiling, as the girl ran to baby girl and enveloped her in a hug from behind, almost lifting her in the process. The tallest in her class, baby girl stood there smiling, not moving or responding to the hug… but just enjoying the moment of being loved.

Her classmate ran back to her Mum, and baby girl spotted another boy classmate of hers – she ran up to him and hugged him from behind just as she had been, giving him a tight bear hug.

“Bye (insert boy name!)”

Oh man. Hilarious yet slight embarrassment. She’s starting young. But then again so did I (I didn’t say that… 😉 )

I’m really loving these kids 🙂