Sometimes I do grown-up tantrums. Things get kicked and swiped and I do a little stamp dance. Nobody gets hurt. But still. I’m not proud. I guess at the root of it are significant issues: stress, lack of time for myself and stuff in my life that isn’t quite right at the moment. Like how work gets the best of me and Maya is left with … Continue reading Twenty things I lose it with because I can’t lose it with my child
Maya is hard to disgust. It’s another one I think she got from her mum. I am mildly disgusting myself and I guess she assumes I’m normal. My own disgust mechanism is a bit faulty. I’m not a big fan of blood and gore. I don’t like documentaries where chimps eat monkeys and even thinking about a caterpillar being consumed from within by wasps that have hatched … Continue reading You lovely undisgustable thing
This cool post by Jess at Wonderoak got me thinking about the things I’ve taught my own daughter without meaning to. Maya thinks and does all manner of stuff that I’m pretty sure she picked up from me when my guard was down (any time outside enthusiastic coffee hour). It’s textbook copycat business. Here is some of her wonky and undesigned learning, good and bad and in no particular order: … Continue reading Leading by shoddy example
This morning, the bathroom mirror informed me that I had a moustache. ‘Yeah, you’ve got a moustache, man. You’ve had it for ages,’ it said. Eeeew. I haven’t noticed people sneaking glances at my upper lip mid-chat. But there it was. They must’ve been wrestling their instincts to the ground: ‘Look at her moustache!’ ‘I’m not looking, you mean bastard.’ ‘You’re gonna look. You’re definitely gonna look.’ ‘Ggggggh. You can’t … Continue reading Why didn’t you tell me I had a moustache?
Dear Paul, I’ve just rediscovered painting and I love it. I never had your talent or your instinctive artist’s eye. But I watched you and learned the basics and what you could do inspired me. Without you, I might still have drawn that shoe made of dots with a 2B pencil under Miss Leigh’s tutelage. I would have had a good crack at the colour wheel in Mr Deacon’s class and I might … Continue reading Thank you for the art, Paul (a note to my incredible brother)
Sometimes I love doing mum stuff. Playing with kinetic sand, facilitating the baking of misshapen biscuits, preparing healthy meals for Maya to ignore and watching my girl develop remarkable new skills and personality. It all feels nourishing, joyful and right. From this place of beauty I produce masterpieces at the drop of a hat: Creative stuff goes down: Fun times roll: But sometimes the opposite is true. The tedium drags … Continue reading Me time makes me nicer
How often does a four year old need to wash? More often than my daughter, I’d imagine. Maya does not like getting clean. She used to look forward to baths. Showers were a real novelty for about a week. And then, all of a sudden, the love affair ended and Maya and hygiene went their separate ways. I realised things had got bad when she went for a week … Continue reading My daughter is a grubby little soap dodger (and I think she gets it from me)