This week I'm grateful for... play dates

Unsurprisingly, a couple of people unfollowed me after yesterday's post. I'm not supposed to know that, am I? I'm not even supposed to care, right? Okay... moving right along...


This week I'm grateful for...


169. Play dates - I do love shuffling mine off to someone else, but I especially love having the players at our place. The privilege of watching what my Tsunamis get up to with their friends is one I relish. So, yes, I am a Spy Mum (but apparently not very good at it according to Cappers who caught me lurking!)


170. Takeaways - We like a trip to Maccas as a treat (mandatory when we are on the road to Gran and Pops, apparently) and LOML and I enjoy a home delivery from a favourite restaurant most weeks, but that's pretty much it for us and takeaways. But tonight we're off to a mate's place for takeaway pizza and it's just such an easy, welcoming way to entertain that I can only say 'more please!'.


171. Childhood - for the reasons above and all the rest of the reasons that make my heart swell. Watching our children find their place in the world is magic. I recall being considerably less concerned about my own childhood than I am about my children's... there's something in that...

So, what's making you smile today? Add your Grateful post to the list below (and please, we love you, but it really does matter that your post is one about being grateful, not just a random), add the button (grab the code from my sidebar and paste it into your post) and pretty-please add a link back to the list. Then pop over to visit other bloggers who are spreading a little sunshine.



[Image by Anna Moller and found on Momfilter]

Children´s Day - August 22, 2011: The Value of Childhood...

A childhood  is value and valued. If it is filled with playing and magic, it has considerable positive influence on the development of the entire life. A neglected childhood may not be rescheduled at a later date. Unfortunately, there are millions of children worldwide who are growing up in the vicious circle of poverty and thus cheated of their childhood - but that's another topic.

Also a lot of children living in a so-called affluent societies have extremely difficult childhood experiences.  Parents want their children to have better carreer abilities than they had themselves. This sometimes let them forget about the other needs (such as internal skills) of the little ones. Children have human needs - but they also have additional needs unique to their particular situation. For most parents, children's play is just that — diversion or entertainment. But playing is much more and can help children develop social skills, physical strength, language skills, self-esteem, and more. Watching a child playing you become eye- (and ear-) witness of many really magical scenes! It is a profound responsibility of parents and carers to provide for  all these needs. 

'I remember going to the record studio and there was a park across the street and I'd see all the children playing and I would cry because it would make me sad that I would have to work instead' ~Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson, who literally grew up on stage, wrote a very impressing song about this very topic. He described "Have You Seen My Childhood" as the most intimately personal and autobiographical of his career.

Have you seen my childhood on YouTube

Music producer Bruce Swedien worked with Michael Jackson to record that song.
He spoke with CNN's Don Lemon about the experience.


Bruce Sweden speaking to CNN´s Don Lemon about working with MJ

"Have you seen my childhood"  was used in the film "Free Willy".

The poignant lyrics provide insight into  Michael Jackson´s life, which -in parts- was sad and also had painful aspects. Several lines are particularly heartwrenching.
In his pleas for understanding, he reveals self-awareness of how his life was pointed out to the public to be peculiar and eccentric du to his attempts to regain his childhood. Thrust into performing and a public life practically since birth, his life really was devoid of a childhood. He was formed, admired, then ridiculed by the media. He lost so much without anyone or anyplace in which to find shelter from the world...

Lyrics: "Childhood"

Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for the world that I come from
'Cause I've been looking around
In the lost and found of my heart...
No one understands me
They view it as such strange eccentricities...
'Cause I keep kidding around
Like a child, but pardon me...

People say I'm not okay
'Cause I love such elementary things...
It's been my fate to compensate,
for the Childhood
I've never known...

Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for that wonder in my youth
Like pirates in adventurous dreams,
Of conquest and kings on the throne...

Before you judge me, try hard to love me,
Look within your heart then ask,
Have you seen my Childhood?

People say I'm strange that way
'Cause I love such elementary things,
It's been my fate to compensate,
for the Childhood I've never known...

Have you seen my Childhood?
I'm searching for that wonder in my youth
Like fantastical stories to share
The dreams I would dare, watch me fly...

Before you judge me, try hard to love me.
The painful youth I've had

Have you seen my Childhood...
(~ Michael Jackson)

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Black and yellow and... map

I'm back wearing my interior-design cap (as we do from time to time, no?). I showed you my inspiration for the girls' new upstairs bedroom a little while ago.

Here's what I'm thinking for my boy. I find boys much harder to decorate - both home and body...

A giant wallpaper map on one wall...

... with blackboard walls everywhere else (will the chalk dust drive me nuts?) with white trim. Of course I plan to artistically write inspiring messages every other day in my spare time.

With hits of yellow for some sunshine. I'm thinking of painting the bed bright yellow and along with a pillow slip or two, that will do the trick.

No, I'm not planning to put a hot babe in his room, but see how great yellow looks with black and white. Just ask the bees!

Yes, I can recreate this on the blackboard...

I think it will be a room that takes him through the rest of this childhood and into his teens, when no doubt the wall map and bed will also be painted black and that will be the last we see of him!

Do you think boys are harder to decorate for? 

What sort of theme would you recommend?

[All image credits can be found here]

Missing them

This is where I missed my family the most.

By the lake in Daylesford, I imagined us laying the table with the old pink and green kilim that we picked up on travels through Turkey. Setting out our worn green tupperware containers most likely filled with 'the usual' ham and rocket quiche and wholemeal (shhhhh...) choc chip cookies. A bag of apples, uneaten because I will have forgotten the knife and 'moon chips' are the only way to go. A fight would break out between Maxi and Cappers over who gets to sit where, ending only after the Badoo elbows out the pair of them and plonks herself front and centre. You don't argue with an entire Badoo.

After brunch the Tsunamis would get busy chasing the creek behind us, climbing up and down the hill while they floated sticks and sank stones. LOML and I would gaze across the stillness of the lake, holding hands and counting our blessings.

This is where I missed my family the most.

Do you enjoy family picnics? Got a favourite spot to share?

This week I'm grateful for... books

Aunty Al and her two junior burgers have been up to stay with us this week. What a laugh we all had - especially the children as the five of them tore through the homestead, breaking everything in their path. Yep, that was pretty funny indeed. Aw, what does it matter when both the destruction and  noise levels are so high that you just know your children are writing the story of their childhood. When I was young, our cousins would come to stay and we would...

So, this week I'm grateful for...

151. Visitors - I make no secret of the fact that I'm not a big fan of routine. What better way to spice up the week than have fun (and funny) people to stay?

152. Books - Even better when my guests love books as much as I do. Al, Aunty Coo and I decided that what we needed more than a night on the tiles (sorry Woogsy) was a night perusing cheap books at the local Lifeline book fair (as you do). Open until 9pm, by the time we settled the kids, ate some dinner and found the darn place we had all of 27 minutes to snap up approximate 53 children's books each. It was a book buying frenzy, let me tell you. And I'm still recovering from the bizarreness of the Lifeline staff... but that's another post entirely.

153. Little gems - And would you believe that among my 53 snapped-up-in-seconds books was a little gem of a children's book called The It-Doesn't-Matter Suit written by Sylvia Plath and published posthumously in 1996. Sylvia Plath does children' books! How random! I do love a book fair!

So, what's making you smile today? Add your I'm Grateful For post to the list below (and please, we love you, but it really does matter that your post is a Grateful one and not just a random), add the button (grab the code from my sidebar and paste it into your post) and pretty-please add a link back to me. Then pop over to visit other bloggers who are spreading a little sunshine. 

[Image by note.worthy found on Flickr]

Kapow!

Check out the Pink Supergirl costume Gran and Pops got for the Badoo's birthday. How Supercool is that!

Inspired by the antics of the Badoo's new alter-ego, all three Tsunamis were soon practicing their best Superhero moves on the trampoline.

Kapow! (Please ignore the singlet tag indicating that the singlet is on back to front and instead check out Maxi-Taxi's 'when is it my turn to act crazy in front of the camera face' in the background there...)

A Superfrog leaping, can you believe? (Ho hum, says Cappers, picking at a loose thread on the tramp cover.)

All three Superheros were soon dead for reasons known only to themselves.

Do you have a trampoline? What sorts on things do your children get up to at playtime? Any fake deaths?

Is eight too young for a Facebook account?

So, my reputation as a Parenting Expert is growing and I have received an email from a confused parent looking for some advice.

What tha?

My response was, in a nutshell, "Have you met me?"

Now, we all know that I'm just plain lucky the Tsunamis appear to be nourished, unbroken and, well, alive... so Dave and I decided that the best approach would be to harness the collective parenting might of the Maxabella lovelies instead. And, naturally, I get to put in my own two cents as well.

See, Dave's eight year old son wants a Facebook account. His friend has one so he wants one. He already likes playing Farmville on his Mum's account (so that's who's out there throwing pigs at each other). His Mum is happy for her son to have a Facebook account of his own, provided that it is heavily sanctioned and monitored. Dave's concern is that starting the boy up when he is too young risks exposing him to to cyber-bulling and adult content that might kill his interest in social networking forever.

My two cents is that if you have to heavily sanitise or monitor a product before giving it to your kids, the product is too old for your kids. Full stop. Why start them up so young on a product that was obviously made for an older audience (and admits that's the case by requiring that you have to be older than 13 to use it).

And Dave, it starts with Facebook at eight and then where does it go?

Over the course of three generations, 'being a child' has been squeezed down by canny marketers from being 0 - 18 (up to the 1950s) to being 0 - 12 (up to 1952 when Bill Haley and those busy American marketers invented the concept of the 'teenager') to being 0 - 7 (in the nineties when the 'tweenager' came along). There's not a lot of time allocated to just being young anymore; not involved in or even knowing about what 'society' even is. And I stress that during that time of rapid social change, it has been no secret that physically, emotionally and mentally our children have struggled to keep up with the marketers*. Keeping up with this 'society' we've created is literally killing our kids.

We know all of this as parents, yet we continue to allow our children to do things to 'keep up' with the other kids. Big corporations who want to sell our kids stuff are pretty much deciding what the rules of 'up' are and 'other parents let their kids follow those rules, so it must be okay.'  But while we're freely handing over the responsibility of raising our children to 'other parents', they are ironically thinking they are handing over the responsibility to us. The net result is that the peer group is raising itself, following rules made up by some company wanting to make a profit out of them, while we foolishly judge the success of our parenting on whether our children are an accepted part of this ungodly mess. Like deers caught in headlights, what a trap we have found ourselves in.

Because, oh, we know that there are worse things than not fitting in. There are worse things than not keeping up with a society gone mad.

This debate has, of course, been going on for generations and each generation has upped the ante on their parents. And as much as we remember the manipulative techniques we used to pull on our own parents, we remember even more strongly that desperate longing to fit in when we were kids / teens / tweens ourselves. The outcome is that more than ever, our generation has a struggle on our hands to resist the 'but she's doing it' pleas and just say no to our kids. It's unbelievably hard because our immediate reaction is that our child will be lonely and bereft if we don't let them do what everyone else is doing.

But what if everyone else decided that enough was enough as well?  What if we all got together at our individual schools and agreed an array of things that we promised we won't allow our children to do? A formal manifesto that we promise we will do everything we can to abide by. A difficult manifesto to agree on, of course, but if we could manage it, wouldn't it take away a little bit of the steering power of the peer group and those marketers... just a little?**

While I genuinely think that most of our children are going to grow up just fine despite what our superficial, materialistic, sexualised, celebrity-obsessed society is doing to them, more and more of them won't. We need to use our brains, not our hearts on this one. Think beyond the immediate gratification of our darling children and look at what's on the road ahead. Because right now it looks to me that there's a massive pile of deranged bullshit on the road ahead and we're all in danger of hurtling right into it.

What do you think about Dave's dilemma? Is an eight year old too young?

Would you create an agreement with parents on some values you'd all agree to for your group of kids?

* This is just one article siting the damage that our society it doing to our kids. There are so many out there, it's frightening.

** I made this up, but I'm liking this idea more and more. If you agree that it's got legs, I'll expand on it and get something together that we can work on as a group. I would then be more than happy to be 'Patient X' and try out our manifesto on the P&C at my children's school... please let me know what you think of the idea.

[Image found here, source unknown.]

Heelllo Autumn!

Fears that Autumn had passed us by were put to rest on the weekend. What glorious weather! We went for brunch at our favourite cafe and then across the road to a secret little neighbourhood park that no-one ever seems to go to but us.

Crunchy leaves under-foot soon become a mist of confetti.

Leaves in the mouth, leaves in the ears and, oh, what's that! Leaves in the nose!?

Washed down perfectly with a sunny orange and a little Cappers cheer.

One day you'll regret your refusal to pose for a picture, Badoo. When you come all sad to Mumma saying "why are there more pictures of Maxi and Cappers than me?" I will remind you of this day.

Can't I just get ONE decent photo of all three of you? Just one?

Ah well, two outta three ain't bad.

Are your children willing models? Or do they go crazy and refuse to comply like mine?
Any tips for getting them to be 'nice'?

Nuclear Power

I had a great time meeting up with my Mum and Dad and siblings on Saturday night. Al and MultipleMum had just been to the AustBlogCon, so after a quick catch-up on who's who in the bloggy zoo, we were free to just hang out with The Rentals and my youngster brother (aka TICH). It had been years since it was just the six of us sitting around the dinner table. Just like old times, except that despite my most persuasive efforts, Mum and Dad refused to move their chairs around to the heads of the table, so it wasn't quite like the old days, but, hey, close enough.

What a privilege it was to step away from my every day responsibilities and regress, just a little. Not parent-me or wife-me or even grown-up-me. Just a sister and a daughter basking in the company that has known and loved me my whole entire life. We were silly beyond words, occasionally serious (religion! again!), always scathing of anyone who dared to hesitantly raise an opinion that differed from the gang. Ah, family.

There is something deeply comforting about my nuclear-six. My marriage is a beautiful one, my darling children aren't going anywhere, but there was a comfort-level on Saturday night that I felt cocooned by. These are my people.

They know me. They grew me.

Have you caught up with your nuclear sans new family lately? 

Do you have a good time together? What do you usually talk about?

[Image by Amanda Gilligan]

The extra-curricular child

Mrs Woog wrote a great post today about the cost of raising children and the extra-cost of raising extra-curricular children. Hear hear, Woogsy!


The pressure on children and ourselves to be all singing, all dancing, all languages, all sporty, all musical, ‘all rounded’ uber-people is just incredible these days. I have always been very good at bypassing the kindergyming, jumping jacking, bee bop a wop bop todder classes. I just turned a blind eye to those sweet little ballerinas and the cute little boys with footy socks up to their armpits. But when the Tsunamis started school this year I found myself planning the following timetable:


Breathe in.

Mondays – (Maxi) Italian, 3.30pm at school.
Wednesdays – (The Badoo) Kinder dance, 10am / (Maxi) soceer training, 3.30pm at school
Thursdays – (Cappers) Jazz Ballet, 3.30pm at school
Fridays – (Cappers and Maxi) Brightsparks drama and dance, 3.30pm at school
Saturdays – (All) Swimming, 10 am at home / (Maxi and Cappers) Karate, 12 noon up the road / Soccer match, whenever, wherever


I kid you not, I'd even filled out the necessary 28 pages of enrolment forms I was that serious! I quickly came to my senses and talked to the children about what they really, really wanted to do. This eliminated soccer for Maxi before I even finished my sentence. Okay, so we won’t worry about pushing him into the ‘team sports’ thing for the third year in a row. Then I red penned the rest indiscriminately, arriving at the actual Term 1 2011 timetable.


Fridays – (Cappers and Maxi) Brightsparks drama and dance, 3.30pm at school.
Saturdays – (All) Swimming, 10 am at home / (Maxi and Cappers) Karate, 12 noon up the road


Breathe out!

How do you feel about all the extra-curricular activities available these days? Do you put a limit on your children’s activities? How's our taxi driving job working for you?

[Image via weheartit, please let me know if you know the original source.]

______________________________________________________________________

Edit: I wrote this post this morning to publish later in the week; read Woogsy's post in the arvo; edited my post to include a link to her; and then hit 'Publish' instead of 'Draft'.  Have you ever done that? So here we are with two posts in a day! And you will note from the date at the top that Blogger thinks it's 9/2 so what's that all about anyway! Ah well, enjoy! x

The only child

It's awful to admit... but I've always had a bit of a prejudice against only children.

Argh, don't kill me! I've worked hard to rid myself of this evilness but I will admit to still being a little suspicious of onlies. Isn't that just so nuts? It's actually hard to admit because I know it's probably going to (unintentionally) offend some parents of an only child. But I can't shy away from it and just know that I have never knowingly been actively prejudice towards an individual about anything in my entire life.

So I'll press on.

When I was small enough to not think badly of myself for thinking this way, but big enough to actually give it some thought... let's say I was ten... I remember thinking that the only children in my class were really needy. They just didn't seem to know how to be an easy friend. I distinctly remember being pressured to be friends with a girl because she told me she didn't have any sisters like I did. I felt sorry for her, we hung out, I was rigid in her company.

Later I decided that only children were really hard to get on with because they didn't seem to know how to share like other kids did. A lesson that I was taught from dot had to be told again and again and again to the onlies. Yes, the stereotypes surrounding 'lonely onlies' seemed present at an early age.

Then, when I grew up a bit, I realised that a lot of my childhood feelings towards onlies boiled down to jealousy. I wished I didn't have to share either. I wished that I had all of my parents' attention like they had theirs. I wished it was just me, me, me. Me. Me.

I think we've all wished that at some stage.

Later, I dated an only child. The pressure. I know it wasn't intentional, but his parents were both just so into him and being his girlfriend was such hard work. I realised then that only children have pressures that I would most likely never understand and certainly would never know.

Now that I'm a grown up I still have my prejudices. They're hard to get rid of. I boast that I can pick an only child adult on sight (which is bollocks, but then prejudice is always bollocks). Deep down I still think only children are a little bit grabbier than the rest of us. I still think they learn a lot of lessons that the rest of us learn quickly and simply through our siblings much harder and sometimes later: sharing, humility, conditional love, managing anger... stuff. But I also note that only children are often better at stuff than the rest of us too. They seem more creative, worldly, independent, starry. Of course, many times they are also far more generous and humble than those of us with hordes of siblings too. I've definitely learned that!

These days I also know that the majority of people don't set out to have just one child. (Even the woman who told me years ago that they had decided to only have one child so they could 'focus' went on to have another some eight years after the first... which I think we can all admit was as very good thing indeed.) Some do, of course, and I am always interested to hear their reasoning (and I promise that I will listen without judgement!). But most don't. Most have a heartbreaking story or two that goes with having just one child and I'll bet that story is part of the reason why only children grow up to be so darn amazing.

These days, despite my suspicions, I realise that it takes all kinds of families to make up a wonderful society. And I'm quite certain that 'lonely onlies' aren't really so lonely after all.

What made you decide to have more than one child or just the one? Are you an only child yourself? Do you think it even matters?

________________________________________________

I rewound this post at Weekend Rewind on 6.8.2011

[Image via weheartit]

What kind of mother?

As Max returns to school and Cappers gets ready for her big first day at Kindergarten tomorrow (!!! oh yes !!!), my thoughts turn to what being an 'older child' mother is all about. Once our babies grow bigger, meeting the physical and developmental needs tends to give way to the more organic, character building stuff.

When I think of my own mother and the way she raised me (along with my Dad, but this is about Mum), I think:

She was wise.
She really listened to me.
She liked trying new things.
She believed in me and she made me believe in me too.
She made me feel loved and secure.
I didn't want to disappoint her.

My mum is, of course, still all these things and so much more. Our relationship has grown up along with me, but the list above is how I remember my childhood with her. One thing I know, she had a special relationship with her four children both as a 'unit' and as individuals. She found the time to forge a unique bond with each of us.

I still have enormous respect for the sheer 'goodness' that has always been in Mum. She always knows what the right thing to do is. Her influence was real and genuine, a huge positive force without being manufactured or contrived. Of course, she had her flaws - this is not a Disney movie after all - and sometimes her flaws were all I could see! But not for long. She was herself and no other.

I have been thinking a lot about how I would like the Tsunamis to remember their own childhood mumma. What would I like them to think and say about me?

My Best Mum descriptors at the moment are:

She was wise
She really listened to me
She was always dreaming up new ideas and new experiences
She made me feel loved and secure.

These descriptors are the foundations for building the kind of mum I try to be. They help me to focus on what is important to me and hopefully my children. I work daily on being this Mum.

Is this something you think about?
How would you like your children to remember their own childhood mum?

[Image via weheartit]

This week I'm grateful for... that pool

Hot weather, plants drooping, cicadas rattling. A lull descends.

I'm off work for two weeks. Last week of school holidays, first week back at school. Cappers is soon to be a Kinder Kid! She is champing at the bit to get in there and give this school thing a go. Maxi is schlepping about the place, terrified to go back there because he's been told he will have to 'work' in first grade. Not even 'work hard', just 'work'. The threat of actual effort is enough to send him into his own kind of lull.

But I'm going to enjoy this time with my darling, crazy, needy, loving Tsunamis, oh yes I am!

This week I'm grateful for...

 1. Our pool - I never thought I would come to love that great big water-sucking, algae-growing time-and-money-pit that came with the house. But when I see the Tsunamis leaping joyfully off the edge and swimming for hours like healthy, happy kids should... sheesh, yeah, I love it.

2. Bloggy friends - we meet so many fabulous people on these blogs of ours. It amazes me, then, that there are some people that you just 'click' with and you become firm friends even though you've apparently never met 'in real life'. Sorry, um... this is our 'real' life, isn't it? Or do I have another life somewhere that I'm unaware of? Spooky.

3. Our camera - Imagine not having 10000 images of our children on file!

[Image is of Cappers... look at me, Mum!]

So, what's making you smile today? Grab my I'm grateful for... button from my sidebar if you like, add your I'm Grateful For post below and please add a link back to me in your post. Then pop over to visit other bloggers who are spreading a little sunshine. Happy day to you!

Enter the Chinese Mother

Maxi-Taxi decided that it was time he starting riding his bike without training wheels.

I thought: "Hallelujah, Mr Six Year Old. It's a miracle!"

I said: "What a good idea!"

The session, which began with LOML patiently trying to teach him balance, rapidly went from excitement that the training wheels were off, to horror that he had to actually do something in order to stay upright, to "I'm never riding my bike again" defeat. Two times up a straight path without training wheels will do that to a boy.

He storms off across the park and flops onto a picnic table. Face like thunder.

My attempts to softly cajole him off the bench and back on the bike were met with comments such as "It's stupid", "I can't", "It's too hard", "I'm stupid", "You're stupid", "I hate my bike". My approach to this sort of negative talk has always been to say things like"Don't say 'I can't', say 'I'll try'" (and, of course, "We don't use words like stupid"!) and gently, gently (lest I break their fragile self-esteem cocoon) ease the child back to the task at hand. If all attempts to guide them back failed, I tended to give them a pep talk around "Tomorrow is a brand new day and you will feel better about trying again then" and babbling on about all the ways we'll make it fun.

Today, however, I had learned of a new approach.

Enter the Chinese mother.

"Max!" I said sternly. "I won't listen to you talk about yourself that way. It's not true and I won't have it. Now get yourself over here and get on your bike."

"No!"

"Max, I'm not going anywhere. I know you can do this so I'm going to stay right here next to your bike for as long as it takes."

"No!"

"You're not going anywhere either. We're staying here until you get back on the bike. You might not get your balance and ride today, but you're at least going to try. I know you can do this, so I'm prepared to wait."

"No!"

"I'll be right here, Max. I'm happy to sleep under the stars tonight with your bike as a pillow."

Five minutes pass.

"No!"

"I'll be right here, Max. Setting up my tent."

Five minutes pass.

"Grrrrrr...."

"Waiting for you, Max."

"Grrrrrrowwwwl!! OKAY THEN!" A small boy stomps his way across the park and collapses next to the bike. "I'm not getting on."

"It's not okay to give up. I know you can do this if you just keep trying." He gets on.

LOML starts to guide him, he pedals and gets a rhythm going, suddenly I hear the shout, "He's doing it!".

"I'm doing it!"

His face is alive with freedom and achievement as he pushes on for five pedals, six, seven... I go nuts with excitement - he's actually doing it!

He does two more times up and down the straight. LOML holds him and then lets go. Max pushes, he swooshes, he flies. Falls off the second time. Calls it a day. But he's done it, he's actually done it.

Thank you, oh thank you, Chinese Mother.

[Image by Sherry at Corporate America Runaway]

What should we really be afraid of?

As we settle into the January holidays, I seem to be seeing more and more posts from parents who are so protective of their children that they won't even let them play in their own front yard. They seem to want to protect them from… life. I’ve previously written about ‘free-range Tsunamis’, so I think it’s pretty clear that I am not an over-protective, ‘helicopter’ sort of parent. But, I've definitely felt the grip of 'what if?...'

What if I let my child play in the front yard and someone comes by and takes him?
What if I let my child cross the road by herself at the crossing and she gets hit by a car?
What if I let my child ride his bike around the block and he doesn’t come back?
What if I leave my child with a carer and s/he abuses her?

All stomach-plunging events that may or may not happen. I certainly can’t fight the logic of many parents who say “I may be over-protective, but I won’t risk my child’s safety”. However, I’m still not convinced that this is a healthy attitude because I simply do not believe a parent’s only job is to protect their children. Our job is far harder than that. Our job is to teach our children how to protect themselves and to help them develop into well-rounded, confident, content people while they’re at it .

The 'helicopter parent' seems to be a phenomenon of our generation. On the whole we were allowed a lot more freedom as children than we give our own kids. But I know in my heart of hearts, that the world is no more dangerous a place than it was when I was a child. It’s a different sort of place, of course it is. It’s a busier and fussier and larger sort of place. It’s a place full of traffic and people and noise. It’s a place echoed in broadcast so we don’t just know what’s happening in our street but also in a street four countries away. It’s a place of so much information and misinformation that we also know the smallest details about what’s happening in that little street far, far away.

These things are definitely factors that contribute to feeling that our children are more unsafe. But we’ve also become better at seat belts, helmets, soft-surface play, airbags, street crossings, stranger danger, life jackets and car seats. We’re less likely to drive drunk, drive when fatigued or drive when we’re no longer capable. Our childcare workers are background checked, they don’t smoke around our kids, they check on them every 5 minutes when they are asleep to help prevent SIDS and they apply sunscreen every two hours.

Really, we’ve gotten so much better at so many safety issues that what our fears really boil down to are those rare, random events – those stomach plunging, terrifying events - that we foolishly think we can control if we just kept a better watch on our kids. But sadly most abuse, abductions and child murders are committed by family members, not strangers in the big, bad world. A statistical fact that we might want to hide from so we blame 'the unknown'. Yet, if we face up to it, we realise that our best defense is surely setting firm boundaries with our children about what is acceptable and what is not acceptable. Letting them know that they are loved unconditionally. Opening our ears and our hearts when we are listening to the things that they are telling us. Then allowing them the freedom to exercise their own intuition and hone their own self-protective instincts.

We spend our days telling our kids that they are unbelievable human beings with much to offer and our nights telling them that they can slay monsters. But what are we really teaching them? We may think that we keep our worries and stresses away from them, but they are masters of perception and they know, they always know.

Look at the above ‘what if?’ scenarios and ask yourself what your child is thinking.

There are monsters in our front yard waiting to pounce on me.
I’m not capable of looking out for myself.
I can’t be trusted to make decisions.
People want to hurt me.
I need to be fearful.

I don’t know about you, but I think this sort of inner-dialogue is too high a price to pay for ‘safety’. You can’t always be ‘safe’, but you can be confident, assertive and resilient in the face of danger. You can learn amazing skills that help keep you from harm. You can discover and challenge your own personal limitations. You can meet life-changing people that you greet with a friendly smile. You can be open to trying new things, maybe on your own, definitely when you’re ready. You can know that you are the sort of person who can work things out for yourself, formulate a plan, think a new thought, explore a new world. You can be sure that even though challenging things might happen, you are more than capable of rising up to those challenges and conquering your world… with a little help from your loving parents, of course.

Do you think you've found a good balance with your own children? What do you worry about most for your children? Would you like to be less or more protective?

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I rewound this post on 15.1.2011

Down in the holiday trenches

I'm 10 days into being at home every day with the Tsunamis and I'm a quivering wreck.

Oh, okay then. Maybe not a wreck, but I'm quivering.

What on earth do I do with these fireballs of energy all day? Activities, I can do. We've done beach, lagoon, pool, beach, zoo, putt-putt golf (dear god, we did putt-putt golf) and parks. It's this 'at home' business I can't get my head around. I mean, we all have to be at home sometimes, right? Right?

They won't watch much tv (believe me, I've tried) and they are really, really fast painters. In fact, they do everything at speed so activities I think will be good for an hour or more are over in 5 minutes flat. I feel like my days are permanently stuck on fast forward while they break the land-speed for playdohing and then they hit the pause button and just watch me.

"What are you doing, Cappers?"

"I'm watching you, Mummy."

"Wouldn't you rather play with your dolls?"

"No."

I've tried booting them out the back door and telling them to come in when it starts to get dark. But even I know that I'm pushing my luck when it's 7am and they're, you know, 2 years old. Maybe if it wasn't daylight savings?

Do tell me. Pretty please with vodka on top. What do you do with your children all day?

[Image via weheartit - please let me know if you know where it came from]

This week I'm grateful for... treehouses

Let's talk about treehouses. I saw three boys of about 11 making a fort in a paperbark gum in the bush yesterday. Watching them was great fun (particularly for the Tsunamis who were busy taking notes to attempttheir own tree-top  fort - in about five years time, kiddos!). It could have been any era, any country, any Summer... some things are just timeless.

So, this week I'm grateful for...

1. The simple things - high in a tree, building a house, lost shirt, big brown belly laughs, a rope to pull up the big planks, a tireless friend scooting up the little ones, pushing and shoving with mudsoaked hands, hot work, a bottle of cool water waiting on the ground, waiting to tip over a protesting friend.

2. Fabrics - a quick cut with the scissors and a tablecloth, some bunting, a gift wrap, a mermaid tail, a headband, endless possibilities are born.

3. Skipping - is there anything more joyous than a child learning to skip?

Finally, if you can spare a moment, please join Jelly Shane's Girl Power initiative to help out My Pear Tree House.


So, what's making you smile today? Grab my I'm Grateful For... button from my sidebar if you like, add your Grateful post below and please add a link back to me in your post. Then pop over to visit other bloggers who are spreading a little sunshine. No hurry - we're all about laaaaazy Saturdays. Link is open all week. Happy day to you!

Note that this will be the last Grateful Saturday linky for 2010... by all means, keep being grateful while I take a little Christmas break. I will see you all bright and cheery in January! Merry merries to you.

[Image via weheartit]

When the whole world is a gallery

There's something about The Badoo. She's into everything. I've had three toddlers in the house over the past six years and number three is, without a doubt, triple the trouble of the other two.

I didn't really need to "baby proof" the house for Maxi or Cappers, but suddenly six years into parenting I'm down at Bunnings clearing out their stock of powerpoint plugs and cupboard guards. Once she drew all over the walls with a black permanent marker. Along the hallway, into her siblings' rooms, through the bathroom, up the stairs. The house looked like a massacre scene in a black and white movie.

She was roused on, of course and sent to her cot. She can't handle being yelled at - she just goes to pieces. It's hard to stay angry at that cute little face when the bottom lip starts to drop, but a massacre made it easy. She was sent to the cot for 5 minutes and every time I checked on her the lip would drop and the tears would flow. She knew she'd gone too far.

Or so I thought.

Five minutes after she was sprung from her cot, the builder popped over to measure up some bookshelves. The Badoo (who is usually extremely shy of strangers in general) took him by the hand and led him to the scene of the massacre . Like an artist surveying her first gallery exhibition she proudly gestured to the walls. "I did that," she beamed. "It's a road."

What were / are your toddlers like? Did you get the big tantrums or the cheeky mischief? How on earth do you manage?

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[Image features wallpaper from Land of Nod]

Things I learned this week including that hipsters are hysterical

This was the week where I wasn't retrenched then I sort of was and then I sort of wasn't and then I definitely wasn't. What a rush.

I've learned a few things along the way...

1. Laughter really is the best remedy. Check out Unhappy Hipsters to see why I still have a smile on my face despite the dreadful week I've had... they are so funny (even though they clearly don't get the joke!).

2. Also keeping me smiling is the resillience of children. Maxi-Taxi's "Battleaxe Fairies" made me realise that whatever happens, self-belief and creativity will get our kids through most things. Just like they've seen their parents through the worst from time to time.

3. Change is good, change is appreciated... but sometimes it sucks the very life out of you.

4. I know it's 'back', I know it can look good, but I just can't like wallpaper.

5. Eating four pieces of a chocolate, maple syrup, kit kat and marshmallow Christening cake is not very condusive to weight loss. The scary thing is, I don't think I really learned this. I think I will probably do the same again next time I encounter the same oozing, lucious, sticky sweetness... darn!

How was your week? Did you learn anything new to share?

[Image by Crisobal Palma via Unhappy Hipsters]

The fairy Collection (updated)

At her recent Christening, The Badoo received a Tinkerbell dress, DVD and doll from her Zia Lucia.* Maxi-Taxi was fascinated by the story on the DVD and then overjoyed when he discovered that Cappers already owned two Tinkerbell dolls. Instantly, he had three fairy dolls, which is all Maxi-Taxi needs to be off and away into the Land of Imagination. That boy just loves a Collection.

This morning he cautiously asked what I thought of him taking the fairy Collection into school to play with at Big Lunch.  The conversation went a little like this:

M-T: I'm thinking of taking in the Fairy Collection to school to play with at Big Lunch.

Me: That sounds fun. (Thinking: Oh dear lord, does he not want any friends?)

M-T: Well, I don't think the boys will want to play with them...

Me: Hmmmm... maybe not. (Are you crazy? I'm not usually hung-up on gender specific toys, but believe me you'll be the laughing stock of the entire boy part of the school!)

M-T: They might laugh at me.

Me: They might. (What, is he reading my mind now? He's SUCH a strong, confident, loving... of course he's not reading my mind... different child...)

M-T: I could play by myself, or with the girls... no, not with the girls, but by myself.

Me: Yes, that could be fun. (There is nothing wrong with playing by yourself at school. There is nothing wrong with playing by yourself at school. There is...)

M-T: So should I take them in?

Me: Well, you know the boys might laugh and want to play something else but you've decided you could play by yourself... so you can make your mind up knowing what you know.

M-T: Okay, I'll take them in.

Me: Good decision (Oh no). You'll enjoy playing with them (ALONE). Just grab a bag to put them in... ah, okay, the pink bag is a good idea. (Forgodsake we have to have a pink bag too!?). Enjoy yourself, Sonshine.

And off to school he went.

And I sit here wondering... how is my boy doing?

* Zia never misses an extravagant gifting opportunity!

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Postscript



How the boy was doing...

Okay, so apparently Tinkerbell and Friends have poisonous wings that kill you as soon as they brush past your face. And their eyes shoot out bolts that paralyse your body and make foam come out of your mouth. And they like wrestling. They are battleaxe fairies.

Apparently, the boy brigade couldn't get enough of them...

[Image via tumblr Please let me know if you know the source so I can credit it properly!]

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EDIT: Yay we found the source of this fab photo. It's by Scott Wills and the sweet fairy dust was made by his talented wife Thanks for letting me know. Tumblr and weheartit are the place to go for unsourced photos. Not good!