Morning play

There is a certain perfection in the fine summer morning. The air is warm and inviting, yet still crisp and refreshing. The sun beams happily and brightly down, yet the fear of burnt skin is far less intense. Energy levels are relatively high.

And so it was this morning! We walked to work with Brendon, parting company at the duck pond. The ducks benefited from the bread that had gone mouldy in our hotter and moister than usual kitchen. They had quite an appetite (which always makes duck feeding more fun), as yet unsated by the bread brought by the hordes of children who arrive by morning tea.

We proceeded to the playground, which was happily deserted. Here's Orla in the swing watching Isabelle and Aidan below her in the shade on the seesaw.

After a play we took the cable car to Lambton Quay, and were home on the bus by quarter past ten.

I've always thought that humans evolved in hot climates to rise with the sun, sleep through the hot afternoon, to rise again when the day cools. This worked well in Barcelona - our children were certainly not the only ones playing outside at 11.00 pm! And perhaps parental obsessions with "sleeping through the night" would be eased if the "night" were shorter!

Back in our temperate climate this arrangement probably works less successfully.

In the meantime I shall suppress my atavistic desire to sleep after lunch and stay up late with my children, playing in the warm twilight.

On a warm summer's evening

Finally, it's like summer has arrived. We have had several days of lovely weather - sun, stillness at times, high temperatures. I should say - high temperatures for Wellington. This is a city where I have seen 19 degrees described as "balmy" and 20 degrees as "sultry" in the local newspaper. Come on guys, that's room temperature, not cause for celebration!

But I digress - after a morning of work (Playcentre meeting and working bee), we treated ourselves to our annual flutter in celebration of Wellington Cup Day. And what a fine investment we made, with our combined $29 of bets returning well over $70. Kinda makes up for last year!
This time, sans tv but with newly installed broadband (slow broadband, but still a definite improvement) we listened eagerly to the radio to cheer on our horses. Moments after our triumph, we were able to turn to tab.co.nz to discover what our winnings were - they were up on line with impressive speed.

For the record, I chose Young Centaur for a win (success!), Resolution for a place (success! came second)....and another one for a place (no success).

It was six years ago that we last attended the Wellington Cup itself. It was hot. I was secretly pregnant with Isabelle.

Oooo! Someone just phoned while I am on the internet!

The wonders of modern technology....

Grocery van

Oh the joy of our internet grocery shopping arriving!

First we hear the van pull up as we eat our lunch outside, picnic-style. Is it them?

Wait.....listen for the doors to open....the sound of footsteps coming down the path....

"It's them Mummy! They're here!" yells Aidan as I go to open the gate.

Treasures bundled in plastic get dropped off into our kitchen.

"Mummy, they've got drawings on their arms!" Aidan observes. Loudly.

In the time it takes me to close the gate, the bags are inspected and the objects of most desire located.

"Blues Clues! Blues Clues!"

The Blues Clues dairy food six pack is swiftly labelled (three "A"s, three "I"s, one mark on each flavour) and one distributed to each pair of eager hands.

Orla rose

Orla is repeatedly rising up onto her sturdy little legs. She pulls herself up onto toy boxes, chairs, the couch, people. If you try to sit her down on the floor, she will stick her legs out in a determined fashion. She will only allow you to place her anywhere if she is standing!

Unfortunately, as she is not steady enough to stand unaided, this can lead to some frustration.

Own bed, own room

It's uncharacteristically quiet here.

All three children are in bed. Brendon has gone fishing.

Aidan is not only in his own bed, he's in his own room too.

He declared himself ready for this about five days ago. I didn't want to hold him back, but I was unconvinced that he was really really ready. After all, he still comes into our bed almost every night and even falls out of his bed every now and again. However, we all agreed that this weekend he would make the big move.

And it really is a big move, involving shifting his bed into his new room and moving around lots of pieces of furniture to make the new configuration work. Drawers were emptied, clothes shuffled and rehomed. Floors were swept, lost treasures found and posters rehung. The good thing for Brendon and me is that we now have all our clothing in our own room - makes the whole dressing thing more convenient. The bad thing is that we now have no junk room - no study, spare bedroom, playroom, office, nothing. A place must truly be found for everything!

Isabelle has started fretting about the inevitable sharing of rooms that will occur when Orla moves out of her cot. In addition, she seems deeply concerned that Aidan can now shut his door and ban her from a place in the house that she could, ordinarily, frequent whenever she pleased.

I know I will miss seeing his angelic sleeping face when I go to bed.

I hope he is going to enjoy having his own space.

The Nutcracker

Well I got a bit carried away while shopping at The Organic Grocer and bought a nice packet of hazelnuts - forgetting that we didn't own a nutcracker. So, last week while in town one of my missions was to remedy this.

The result was this simple yet cunning device. Australian made, it has the stereotypically crass title of the Bonk (Bart's Original Nut Kracker). It is actually very good. Both older children have become fast experts in nut cracking. Isabelle's rotational schema delights in the twisting of the screw, whereas Aidan's trajectory and disconnecting needs are fulfilled by the satisfying CRACK! as the nut case explodes to reveal the food inside.

I thought that this would be an interesting thing to take to Playcentre, before remembering that trying to take in nuts would be akin to taking in crack cocaine. So this will remain a home activity.

Isabelle and I discussed whether or not this nutcracker had anything to do with Barbie and the Nutcracker. We concurred that it did not.

Civics for five year olds

....coming in mid-conversation.....

"I don't think it's a matter of your teacher letting you. You can ask whatever you like. It's a free country!"
"What do you mean free?"
"We are a democracy, and you can do basically whatever you like so long as it doesn't harm others".
Pause
"But you can't take guns out with you".
"True, usually you can't. We have freedom within limits".
"And you must listen carefully to your mummy and daddy".
"Exactly!".

11 months, 4 weeks, 2 days

On the eve of her first birthday, here's a round up on Orla.

Her vocabulary: ma, ba, da, pa, na, ta, ka, mumumumum, dadadadadad. Nowadays we even converse:

Orla: Pa!
Me: Pa!
Orla: Pa!
Me: Pa!
In unison: Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa! Pa!

Her mobility has really opened up new vistas for her. She explores around the house and spends much less time in one of my baby wearing devices. She loves to play "hunt the fly" in the aluminium channels under the windows in the lounge. She pushes open unlatched doors to crawl through. She can be found in quite a different place from where you left her only a few short moments ago. Orla is just getting herself up to standing, often with her legs splayed out in a sturdy "v" shape.

Orla has discovered the power of the pointy finger. She points at the person she desires, matching it with expressions and vocalisations suited to the urgency that that person is required. She rises from her cot at night, points at Daddy, then indicates where in the bed he is to place her (next to Mummy, facing the breast).

Orla has discovered baby doll and is very taken with him. She has discovered pictures of babies in the hallway. She points at them, but hasn't been able to play with them yet.

Diet-wise, Orla is the biggest eater of solids of all three (and yet the smallest by weight and length). I was hoping to leave dairy until after her first birthday. Yet just the other day, I heard a distinct smacking of lips from the lounge. Orla was seated on the floor, Aidan's chocolate buttons in a heap in front of her. Chocolate buttons were grasped firmly in both fists. And chocolate drool oozed down from her chocolate-filled mouth.

I suspect Orla is going to be a trajectory-schema girl, by her interactions with Aidan and her reaction to both siblings as they (and objects from them) zoom on by. She loves balls, and loves to watch them roll. In addition, she seems to be enclosing a lot lately. She loves a set of nesting cups we have, placing one inside the other and placing objects inside them. I watched her repeatedly putting objects inside Isabelle's doll's cradle. She's not covering things up (which I would define more as enveloping), more placing things within a boundary.

She is steadily progressing towards toddlerhood - her face is changing, her hair is growing, her four teeth make her look different and her interactions with her world are becoming more complex. I'm constantly struck at how different life is for her than it was for Isabelle at the same stage - the presence of big, interesting, exciting, loud, confusing, fighting, playing, challenging, loving siblings must have some kind of effect.

A year ago, I had taken Isabelle and Aidan to the zoo on the bus, not knowing that Orla was soon to make her early entrance to the world. I like that she's done things her own way from the start. And I wouldn't have missed the joy she has brought us for anything.

Fish!

Now here's something worth recording!

One kahawai, freshly caught and had for dinner last night along with our home-grown potatoes.

There's even some left over in the freezer - enough for a fish curry.

The Cat in the Hat. Or not.

With apologies to Dr Seuss.

"Orla, time to put on your sun hat. We are going outside".

I will not, shall not, wear that hat
I must not, could not, that is that!

Not in the house!
Not outdoors!
Not on the grass!
Not on the floor!

I will not, shall not, wear that hat
I must not, could not, that is that!

Could you wear it on the lawn?
Could you, would you, in the morn?

Not in the house!
Not outdoors!
Not on the grass!
Not on the floor!

I will not, shall not, wear that hat
I must not, could not, that is that!

Could you wear it in the sun?
Maybe this once, just for fun?

Not in the sun!
Not in the shade!
Not by a river!
Not in a glade!

Not in the house!
Not outdoors!
Not on the grass!
Not on the floor!

I will not, shall not, wear that hat
I must not, could not, that is that!

Could you in the afternoon?
Come on, we are leaving soon!

Not in the noon!
Let's make this plain
I'll take it off
Again and again!

Not in the sun!
Not in the shade!
Not by a river!
Not in a glade!

Not in the house!
Not outdoors!
Not on the grass!
Not on the floor!

I will not, shall not, wear that hat
I must not, could not, that is that!

Happy New Year!

New Year's Eve was always going to be a quiet one as we are still in quarantine. After tea, and once the children were in bed, Brendon and I settled down to watch King Kong on the computer. We didn't get to see all of it - midnight, and Aidan and Orla waking up intervened, but there's always tonight!

Just after going to bed, I heard a cat fight outside. Bully Cat!!

I raced outside in my nightie and ended up chasing Bully Cat off down the side of the house after Houdini had herself been chased to her cat door.

"PSST! GET OUTTA HERE BULLY CAT!" I shouted. Bully Cat hissed at me menacingly from the darkness. I couldn't see a thing, so abandoned my saucepans plan and went back to bed.

Although between multiple T-Rexs, giant apes, creepy crawlies and Bully Cat, it's a wonder I managed to get to sleep at all.