320::366

 

An afternoon snack of home-made raspberry sorbet on a hot day = lots of mummy brownie points. A handful of frozen raspberries, a dollop of yoghurt, a couple of blocks of ice. Blended together, served in small tubs, somehow almost as much ended up on the seats and patio tiles as it did in the children’s mouths. Two weeks, and several moppings, later, and the red marks on cream tiles are just about faded away. Lesson learnt – next time, we eat on the lawn.

 

{and please excuse the typo in the tag line, it’s actually the photo 320}

bookworms {235::366}

Walking in to preschool, a table filled with books greeted us, and a sign announced the book fair as part of book week. Master Three raced over, and right on top, lay a Dinosaur Hot Wheels book, quickly snatched up into eager young hands and cuddled against his chest. “I has the Dinothaur book, pwease, mummy? I LOVE dinothaurs!!”, the big blue eyes looked into mine, pleading. Reluctantly, he lay it back on the table, not convinced that the book would still be waiting for him tomorrow when we came again, and mummy would come prepared with some money and buy it for him. Leaving in the afternoon, he gazed longingly at the table, and then, as we passed another family at the gate, the tears started. Those people were going to buy that dinosaur book, he was sure of it. Upon our return, of course, there was no dinosaur book, but thankfully, right at the bottom of the spare box inside, we found the last copy, and he grinned all the way home, his brand new book not leaving his hand for a minute. Of course, Mater Five and Little Miss needed books too. Just like their mama, all threee are bookworms, and as soon as we arrived home, all three scattered, and were soon absorbed in the stories, the silence broken only by the whisper of turning pages.

 

{joining in this week with Thankful Thursday, because I am so thankful to have such wonderful children, and that they love nothing better than a story. Or ten.}

wordless wednesday

Alternately titled, Where Did My Baby Go? Little Miss thinks she’s big enough to walk like her brothers on the school run.

the one where the boys tidy the toy room.

 

Arriving home in the dark, I dump my bags on the bed, and sneak down the hallway to softly kiss my babies as they slept. Leaning over Master Five, little arms sneak around my neck and he pulls me close, telling me how he missed me. Master Three stirs, and begs me to lay with him, just for a moment, he’s having trouble sleeping, though the sleepiness in his voice and the steady breathing as I’d entered the room gave the lie to his ruse. But still, I lay with him, snuggling in close. I kiss him goodnight, and tiptoe into Little Miss’s room, and leave a whisper of a kiss on her cheek, willing her not to wake. I make my way back to the loungeroom, and passing the toyroom, can’t help but be impressed at the incredibly clean floor. Then I walk into the room…

 

Bench Monday :: getting my quilt on edition

Master Three has asked for a new quilt, an orange one. And so the pile of orange fabric on my desk grew larger and larger, and with the final pieces arriving from a friend, I was ready to start cutting. Every day, he looks and checks if the pile has grown, and is very anxiously awaiting the next stage. This is going to be one bright quilt, get your sunglasses ready!

 

i’ll remember

“Pway twains, mama?” a small boy would ask, and so I’d get down, and we’d set up the track, and around and around we’d go. The boy grew, the fmaily grew, and the train collection grew. Then the house grew, and suddenly the train set that had become a summer toy, while the only room to play it was on the deck, suddenly became an all-year-round-take-up-the-toyroom toy. Four years since that first set, and that small toddler is now a tall lanky kindergarten boy, and yet, he still turns those big brown eyes at me, engine in hand, “Would you please come and play trains with me, mummy? Because you make GREAT tracks!”

I know, in years to come, when I’m old and doddery, and my memory starts failing, these are the moments I will cling to. Of a small boy or two on my lap, and a multitude of tracks, trying to cuddle and build at the same time. Of a tiny girl coming running through the door, and the boys grabbing their trains, and laying on the tracks “HOLD ON TO YOUR TRAINS, HERE COMES THE ELSA STORM!!!”. Moments upon moments, built as steadily and logically as one track piece after another.

 

nostalgia

Like so many nights before, a child’s cry pierces the darkness, and drags me from my bed. I go to our daughter, and pull her up to me, as her arms wind around my neck, and together we make our way up the hallway. We sit on the lounge, and just like before, she curls around my body, cheek to chest, listening as my heart beat soothes her back to sleep. Sucking her thumb, instead of nursing as she once did, but the comfort of her mama’s closeness is enough to soothe her. Her breathing slows, sleep creeps in, and she fights, murmuring to me, and then, as she always did when she nursed, and contentment overtook her, her tiny hand reaches up, lays against my cheek, and starts stroking, as sleep wins the battle.

 

 

{well, if you’d been up all night chatting to mama, you’d need a post-breakfast nap too!}

 

 

wordless wednesday :: day 206

I am trying hard to get back into blogging here, but the days are slipping away so quickly! I’m still plodding along with my project366 – this photo is yesterday’s, a little snap of what I found in the children’s shower when I went to clean the bathroom!

albert

Meet Albert (pictured here with James my pop’s box brownie).

 

 

Unloading the car after school, I sent Master Five off to the mailbox as I unclipped Little Miss and get her sorted. He bounded up as I unlocked the front door, and held out the express post satchel. My mind whirred, what had I ordered now? Nothing sprang to mind, and I flipped it over, looking for a return address. There it is…Oh, yes! A message a week or too back, from a friend. Her mum had an “old school light meter thingy” and would I like it? Having been looking on ebay for a meter, I jumped at the chance. And now here it was. Oh what fun I’d have this weekend, I thought, as I pulled it from the package, and unwound the bubble wrap. And then my jaw dropped. When she said old school, she meant not just a light meter, but an OLD light meter. And he still works. I have the loveliest letter from my friend’s mum, recounting her memories of slideshows with her dad, from whom the meter had originated. In excellent condition, complete with well kept instruction manuals, Albert is the perfect addition to the collection. And every time I see him I smile, for the kindness of almost-strangers, and also, for the power of the internet and the wonderful friendships it can launch. To B & P, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for allowing me to share in this little piece of your family’s history. Albert is already well loved, and will be very well cared for. (Don’t he and James just look made for each other?)