Three children

It was winter last week (with thick snow only two hours away!) and it's full-on summer this week. The weather's confused and so are we. I've been back and forth digging out winter clothes that I thought wouldn't have to come out again until next year. Now it looks like I can definitely put them back.

I stay in when it gets to the thirties, otherwise it starts to fry my brain and whatever smidgen of patience and capacity I have for listening to my children just dissipates in the hot sun. I start madly scrambling around looking for a way out and I start to panic.

Panic is what I almost did two weeks ago when it reached 35 degrees. I had promised the boys a trip to the Reptile Park if they sat quietly while I took pictures of the sourdough bakers for my deadline later that day. A promise is a promise. Even if I didn't know how hot it would be. Thick sunscreen and wide-brimmed hats did nothing to stop the panic from creeping in. But something else did.... Sprinklers. I scooped Kian out of the buggy, took my shoes off and told Luca we were going to get wet together. We ran in and out till we dripped. After a quick cuddle with a koala and a pat of the Galapagos tortoise, we were dry again. So we did it again. Kids joined us and parents thought I was a little crazy.

Water saved the day yesterday too, when my long-haired pair were starting to drive me loopy inside the house. I found some shade on the decking, filled their wading pool and gave them empty laundry bottles and straws. They played together for almost two hours, only coming in to ask for chalk to draw on the outside of the house. We kept Sydney wet and she took shelter in the shade of the trampoline. She was too hot and bothered to ask for a walk.

It was blissful for once, listening to running water and the sound of my children giggling without anyone tormenting Sydney and without Sydney nagging me to go out.

That is, until I discovered Kian bent one of my hydrangea flowers and Sydney lopped it off with her tail. Until Luca had a pee in the pool and Kian started to drink it by the bottle. Until Kian decided to feed all his chalk to Sydney. And until they decided to dig up the garden and pour mud all over Sydney's kennel and themselves... When it wasn't bath night.

It's like having three children out there sometimes. Except it's nothing like having three children.

I've found myself wondering lately what that would be like.  Would it tip us over the edge or would it complete the picture?*





* I can wonder all I like. It's still very much a 'no, thank you' from my spearfisherman.

Why isn't parenting more obvious?

There's plenty about being a parent that comes naturally to me.

I instinctively know what to feed them. I know that good food has a big part to play in their childhood, just as it did mine.

I know to love them, to give them plenty of cuddles and to listen.

I know to read to them every day and nurture their love of books.

I know that less will always reward them with more.

As they've grown, I instinctively know that a slower, longer childhood is right for them. And that they should spend time in the garden watching food grow.

I'm very grateful to have instincts like these. No matter what anyone says or what I see, I am never swayed. It's so comforting to have that instinctive backing. To know what is right.

What doesn't come naturally to me, though, is huge and fills me with guilt. Every. Single. Day.

I don't know how to deal with the fighting, the mood swings, the episodes of rage. Instead of waiting for calm to creep back in, for them to find their centre, then talking about it sensibly, I get sucked in and swept along.

I've been reading how sibling conflict is an opportunity for communication. But I'm failing miserably. (Unless raising my voice counts as communication?)

If it was a four-year-old Kian clashing with Kian as he is now, I imagine I wouldn't get so caught up. Kian is more resilient and he moves on quite quickly. I imagine I might even let them sort it out for themselves. But it always feels so much deeper with Luca. Uncontrollable. Intense. The distress lingers and it affects everything. It's the highly sensitive thing that I still know very little about.

This morning, as I baked cheese and chive muffins to fill their lunch boxes, I realised that instead of feeling proud and grateful that it's easy for me to wake up and rustle up something delicious for their lunch, I felt niggled that I'm only really doing part of my job.

Filling their tummies and reading to them and loving them is only really part of the job. It's the easy part. It's easy to bake and cook from scratch (for me, anyway). It's easy to read. It's easy to cuddle and be close. Because it's calm and enjoyable. It's easy to parent when you've got calm and enjoyable.

It's hard when everyone is overwhelmed and angry, in a struggle. I wish I could better tune in and know exactly what their needs are and how to talk and nurture them back. That's the hard part and I wish it were more obvious.

 

I wish it were more obvious: tuning into my child and being able to connect and work out what they really need on an emotional level and being able to think 'you're acting this way because..., so all I need to do is this', and know in my heart of hearts that I'm doing a great job.

I know, as parents, we're human too, carrying all sorts of issues that still need resolving. I accept that, and I know nothing is ever perfect, but I'd like to feel – just once – like I can pat myself on the back.

I find myself wondering if it'll all turn out OK. In spite of all this stuff that isn't obvious to me.

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What was obvious to me today, though, was I needed music and I needed to make banoffee pie. So I danced in the kitchen to Michael Bublé, and when the boys came home, we danced some more.... (before several moments like the kind I describe above).

And now, I have a bowl of buttery, biscuity, sticky and creamy. Where it's going to end up is very very obvious.*

Do you struggle with the emotional stuff too as a parent? Do you have one child you always worry about? Do you wish more of parenting was instinctive so that we didn't have to spend our spare time reading advice?**





* I'll post the banoffee recipe tomorrow.

** Speaking of which, I have a copy of Simplicity Parenting here from the library thanks to a mention from Greer. But it's been sitting on the coffee table for a week. Next to Tessa Kiros' Apples for Jam. Guess which one seems to fall into my lap first. 

Winter

Everyone we talk to says it's been long and cold.

I say it's glorious.

What say you? Tell me I'm not alone.




I also say I need to pay closer attention to my son's fringe when I'm cutting it.

A secret muddy puddle

The lull is passing.

I packed two changes of clothes. Flannels. Bottles filled with warm water. Two sets of bowls, muffin tins and wooden spoons.

We were off for a walk and heading for the mud.

There are lots of puddles near us. But only one passes the squelch test.

It's become our secret muddy puddle.

Luca was, well, like a pig in mud. Pigs would love this, was the first thing he said. His friend, little piglet, was joining in all the fun. Apparently.

I watched as he made me chocolate cake, chocolate muffins and a chocolate roll.

I expected – and wanted – Kian to do the same. I was prepared, for heaven's sake. I was hoping to watch Kian, especially, wallow about, throw clumps of it at his brother. Have a mud fight. Even play in the watery puddles. Anything.

He took a few steps towards the action. Very steadily. Then turned right around.

There was a moment of stirring, but it was just a moment. And I had to bring the mud over to him.

Yoghurt gets smeared and rubbed in at the table. Dog bowls get played in and poured all over each other. Food under the table gets squished and fondled.

Mud in a field?

Not when Mummy wants me to. And not when she's all prepared like that.

They KNOW. That's what it is.

Sydney got muddier than anyone. She doesn't play the same toddler games.

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Celebrating 100

I've reached 100 posts.

Can't believe it's been a year since I began my little blog!

I started Finding that place called Home as a way of recording family life. I'm only one year in, but I'm already thinking about where I want to take it.

I've written about family, our home and early childhood. I've also shared my gardening journey and what it will mean to me to have an abundant kitchen garden. I still want to write about all these things, because they are my life. Every day.

But I want to set the tone as it becomes clearer in my mind. The same purpose I had when I landed that job at the BBC feels like it should be the same purpose here.

To share my joy of food. To uncover great food.

Food and people.

So really it's still the same. Family. Like-minded souls. Kindred spirits. Around a table.

In case you've just joined me (welcome, by the way!), here are 100 moments from the past year.

I hope you'll join me for the next 100.


My technical advisor (aka my handsome spearfisherman) has just informed me that my rss button has been going to the wrong link. So that might be why some of you have missed a few posts. If that's you, easiest thing might be to click on whichever leaf button takes your fancy. Up in the top right-hand corner. See? Or if you like, you can join me on Facebook (which I'm still getting used to!).

Cuddles * Our own sashimi * Kian on his bike * Beach walk after Avoca Markets * Firescreek Winery *
Luca at the beach

Winter sun * Choc cupcakes * Playing with cans and string * Swimming with Kian * Lilies in our deep dark wood * Kian posing * Brothers on the seesaw * Fun in the deep dark wood * Best vegetable lasagne 

Trotting fun * Homegrown basil * Noise with saucepans * Watering the worms * Digger watching * A stroll with Sydney * Brotherly love * My first hydrangea

Green and red tomato chutney * Luca harvesting * Perfect passionfruit * No-churn strawberry ice cream *
Kian up to no good * My favourite way to see presents * Graeme's latte art * A pensive moment *
Summer fruit salad

A special trip on a trike * Homemade sign * Luca and an eastern rock lobster * Dinner * Kian chasing geese

Organic sourdough * Spinach at home * Kian climbing * Mucking about on the decking * Watering the brassicas * Mr and Mrs Shadow * Trying to grow basil from a cutting * Helping in the garden * Climbing high * Pant pant * Holding on tight to my cuddlebug

Autumn colour * Morning catch * Two brothers * Sydney Botanical Gardens * Amazing light at Terrigal *
Summer sun * Sydney's birthday

Family outing * Slow food * Luca catches a fish * Turning four * Rough and tumble with friends

Enjoying a party * Picking flowers * Sticking leaves * Sharing a muslin * Heavenly jonquils * Winter day out *
Kian's 1st * Snorkel and fins * At the pool * Cheeky grins * Crabbing at our favourite spot * Helping Daddy clean and fillet the fish * My beautiful mum and I

'Luca', made out of things from the garden * Pinning it on the door with Auntie Jennifer * Frangipani in our garden *
I love the Avoca markets * Oh so cheeky

Lazing about * Crabbing in winter * Putting together Kian's toddle truck *
My first mud crab with Opa * Straight into the water fully clothed

A week's worth of dinners * Watching Daddy fillet * Posing with Opa and the mud crab we just caught *
Christmas morning rainbow

My three boys * Playground fun * Our tomato glut * A much-loved umbrella *
A different way with paint * Crawling outside

Squelch squerch * Kian playing fetch * Smiles * Warm crumble * Pink rhubarb * Blocks at home




Today

It's supposed to be my day. My day to relax and be quiet and do very little.

I haven't really relaxed (one day I'll learn how), I haven't been very quiet and I've got two hours before I have to pick the boys up and I'm panicking about what I still have to do.

Not relaxing because: instead of a quiet walk this morning, Sydney barked most of the way at walkers above us on the cliff's edge.

And not quiet because: I've been talking to Steven from Cocopure who, along with his wife, make gorgeous coconut butters using virgin coconut oil and raw natural ingredients (cacao, cashew and vanilla). They're heavenly.

Plus I chatted to Karl Johnson from Over the Moon milk about his old-fashioned, full-cream milk that hasn’t been homogenised or diluted, and Gloria Cox from Leaning Oak Winery & Dairy about her fresh and soft-ripened goat's cheeses (and how her goats are all pregnant at the moment and won't be kidding till July, so there's little in the way of milk. Had to had that bit in, because even though it doesn't mean anything to anyone else, I love hearing producers talk about their animals and what the seasons mean to them).

They'll be featured in a recipe piece I'm doing for Breeze magazine in their next issue.

So... not as much quiet as I normally like when the boys are away, but when it comes to talking to artisan food producers and food, I could literally chat all day.

Fun with Sydney in the park

It was just Luca and I on Thursday. We took Sydney for a walk in the on-and-off rain, and Luca raced me between trees. He beat me every time.

When I was too worn out to run, he mucked about with Sydney. They really are very good friends. A lot of the time, she can be hard work. Trying to find the time to walk her... And keeping her and the boys happy in such a small back garden is very challenging.

But when I see her and Luca play together... I mean, really play, when he's not whinging at her taking his toy, or when she isn't giving up the ball quick enough for him to throw... I forget all that, and I forget how mean he could be to her as a toddler.

It's blissful to watch. They get into a rhythm, and it's just the two of them.

Linking up with Kellie from 1000 Homes of Happiness - sharing and celebrating our little people at play with nature...

Book ledges, fun with Grandma and pooch's birthday

Don't you love this way of displaying books?

Image via here

Image via here

Luca's book collection is resembling a small village library, and they no longer fit in the Ikea baskets we bought a couple of years ago. Plus with Kian in his room every minute of the day, his books are getting trashed.

I came across this tutorial and got to work straight away. Well, alright, I got to work nagging he-who-works-with-the-wood. For those of you who'd like a bit more detail, I do know he had a 150mm x 19mm plank of wood and put it through his table saw to get two different widths, plus he had a 40mm x 19mm length to use as the lip.

We chose to glue and screw to make it stronger (and because I'm an instant gratification kind of gal, and I didn't want to wait around for glue to dry).

Whilst it may look like I know what I'm doing here, I really didn't. Graeme only let me do one or two.

After a quick sand...

I gave them an initial prime with a dollop of the pale blue colour I wanted, followed by a proper coat of paint.

(Really isn't fun to have the one table in the house used for Luca's craft, three meals a day, my little projects and household paperwork. It's driving me mad.)

Graeme wanted to fill the screws, but I was happy with them as they were.

Ta da!!!! What do you think?

I just love them. Course, two was hardly going to fix the problem. But it's a start. Two for Kian next.

Yes, yes, I know Ikea have very smart $10 picture ledges, but Ikea is quite a distance away. I hate driving, I hate traffic, and I'd much rather stay at home and clear the table umpteen times between licks of paint.

Speaking of Ikea, look what I picked up in a garage sale at the weekend for $5 each! They were initially meant for the boys. One each. But I'm not sure now. I think I like them too much. 

Mum is here for a month. It's already going so quickly. With family living overseas, there's usually a period of adjustment, getting used to each other again. But the boys behaved like Grandma lives just around the corner. Instant cuddles, kisses and conversation. For that I'm grateful. 

Cuddles with Kian...

And baking with Luca...

Luca making butterfly cakes for Sydney's 6th birthday. She enjoyed every last crumb. Plus the bone he bought for her. Plus the fish that Graeme caught that morning. One spoilt little doggie.

Happy birthday pooch.