The Giving Heart

I had a moment with Judah during the week.

We were watching the news as a family while eating dinner – which almost never happens in our house because of all the violence and death and bad news that you tend to be bombarded with. But, I’d been a bit out of touch with what was going on in our world, and thought it might be a good idea to play catch up.

The kids were talking about bacon and trying to out-sing eachother in nursery rhymes; and a story came on about babies and young children dying in Yemen from starvation. Dave and I watched these small, skeletal babies in hospital, unable to keep any food down, and their mothers, their hearts breaking, desperate to prevent their children from slowly starving to death. No food, no milk, no jobs, and no money.

During the piece, Judah stropped singing, and watched intently; there was a moment where I almost got up and turned it off, but I didn’t. And when it finished, his questions began.

Why are those babies so sick?

Why can’t his mummy give him food so that he can be strong?

Does his daddy have a job?

Why doesn’t his Grannie give him food?

Is the doctor fixing him?

Why are the people fighting where he is?

Dave and I very slowly and carefully answered his queries, and explained the best way that we could - which is a tricky thing when your listener is only nearly four years old. I didn’t want him to be frightened, or to be overwhelmed – and I would have gladly held off on such a discussion for another three years until his understanding of the world and his place in it grew.

But, there we were, sitting at the table and talking to our boy about big things.

And while my heart was saddened for the loss of the beautiful way that he viewed the world, Judah’s compassionate heart sought to find a way to help:

Can I take the little baby my dinner so he can grow big and strong?

No sweetheart, that babe lives a very long way away. He’s in the hospital, and the doctors are helping him the best way that they can, I said.

Then I will get on three planes and walk to where he is and find all the food and give it to him so that he can be strong, he said with determination.

I was so proud of him.

Since then, we’ve had a (Judah initiated and very gently explained) daily conversation about that little baby and children in need; and while he is broadening in his understanding, he’s also interested in finding solutions and ways in which we can help. So this morning, I suggested that we take an empty jar from the cupboard, and start saving some of our pocket money to send to babies and kids that need help.

That is a very good idea Mum, he said. You can take all the money from my piggy bank and send it to the kids, so that they can be big and strong.

So very proud.

As I write this post, I’m smiling at the generosity that children have when given the opportunity to help others in need; and while it’s a discussion that I thought we’d be having in a few years, it really has reinforced for me the idea that you’re never to young to give, or to be giving. And who knows where this spark of generosity may lead? If it enables Judah to be a more compassionate child, or to grow into a man who feels the plight of others and seeks to make a difference, then embracing it now may just be the best thing we’ve ever done.

Nat

Image from joojoo on Etsy.



Find me...

And just like that, we’ve moved seamlessly from the world of pirates and the high seas, to detectives, mysteries, magnifying glasses and solving crimes.

I’m actually not quite sure what the trigger was; perhaps there was none. All I know is that my almost-four-year-old is now very slowly investigating his world, magnifying glass in hand, looking for clues that monsters have been visiting, and following (real and imagined) footprints on the floor.

My conversations with Judah nowadays tend to follow this tract:

Me: Judah, what do you want for lunch?

J: I need you to come with me and look for the foofprimts I saw outside with my magmify glass.

Me: Peanut butter or honey on your sandwich?

J: Mummy, when did you see the monster yesterday?

Me: Only when he was dancing in the front garden. Now, what do you want for lunch?

J: Um, I want some money to catch the plane to the detective shop in Adelaide.

Whenever it isn’t mealtime or naptime or you-need-to-do-this-now time, we all join in the detective work. This morning, I explained to him that good detectives ask a lot of questions, and write the answers down in a notebook that they keep in their pockets. Said notebook was found, and a pencil given, and the questions began; random things like, what did you have for breakfast? Or, why do you like yellow?

I guess you never know what questions will solve the mystery, right?

What games are your little ones playing at the moment? Or, do you remember playing detective games when you were a kid?

Nat

Crossing another off the list

I have this mad ambitious plan: to make, do, experience and try out 212 things this year - some as a family, some on my own, most with the kids, and a few random and slightly adventurous ones thrown in for good measure.

You know how much I love lists; but I have to admit, it wasn’t my idea at all. Our young cousin started it all when he began an ambitious bucket list; then Kim decided to make a list of things she wanted to do this year; and what else could I do? As if I’d ever pass up an opportunity to jump on the make-a-list bandwagon!

I’ve loved creating and crossing things off slowly as the weeks tumble on by; and it’s given us an opportunity to be very organised, sometimes quite spontaneous, and definitely more motivated to get more out of the time we spend together.

They’re not all complicated or expensive experiences – some are actually things that we should or would like to do, like give blood, or cull our un-played-with toys, or to bake delicious things for our neighbours.

Examples?

#24: Read the Magic Pudding to Judah every night before bed

#29: Send postcards, drawings, and letters to the people we love

#58: Make a loaf of bread and eat it straight from the oven

#79: Host a dinner party

#91: Brew our own beer

#97: Make a time capsule and bury it in the garden

#107: Make a collection of things every day for a week, and display them somewhere in the house

Today, we crossed another one off the list – #41 - taking the kids to Yum Cha for lunch. We stuffed ourselves with delicious pork buns, dumplings, moreish rice, and warm custard-y tarts, and drove home lazy and full-bellied, smiling at how good it is to (sometimes) be so indulgent.

I do love this list; and I love that it’s making us slightly more adventurous as a family.

What new things have you tried so far this year?

Nat

Remembering

So, I had a moment during the week with Lyra that made me stop and think about the things we remember from childhood, the comfort of safe, sweet memories, and how they replicate from generation to generation.

I was dressing to go out when little Lyra-Lou, fresh from a bath, wet hair in ringlets and in a bright purple singlet, came marching into the bedroom to see what I was doing. She watched for a while in silence and then began asking questions, wanting to join in too. I put cream on her small chubby cheeks, lip gloss on her pouted lips, and brushed her hair; she looked at herself and at me with a lovely sense of wonder, before declaring that we were both very pretty, and skipping out of the room to show her Daddy.

I remember doing the same thing as a girl – watching my mother dress, carefully applying her makeup. I thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world; I expect most little girls feel the same way. And she would include me in her beauty routines in the same way – cream on my cheeks, brushing my long hair, maybe just the smallest touch of lipstick. And I can see the memory playing before me, and feel that same delight, thinking that she had magically transferred some of her loveliness to me.

Have you ever had a moment like that with your child – where a memory from your youth is played over?

Nat

Ps. I think this is my most favourite photo of Lou, in her beloved Wimcee headdress. When I took it, she was telling me about where things come from – juice comes from bees, yoghurt comes from bees, milk comes from a moo, and apples are from the fridge. Bless.

Treasure!

Over the holidays, I watched the movie Amelie again, for the first time in a long time. If you know it, you may remember that Amelie goes on a mission to return a small box of treasure, found hidden in a secret cavity in her bathroom. After some delightful detective work, she finds the now grown-up owner and returns the box to him anonymously; and the memories that flood back as the man rifles through his childhood box of treasure, welled up with emotion, leave Amelie changed – she resolves to do good all her days.

While I watched the movie, Judah’s treasure box sat on the couch next to me. It was given to him at Christmas, lovingly and beautifully made by Kim and filled with the most wondrous things: an old fashioned metal robot, shells, a metal cog, a small spanner, random chess pieces, a spinning top, a hand-carved zebra from Africa, dice, rocks and a wooden spoon. Judah has added his own small treasures: a five-cent piece, an old metal fighter plane, a small plastic frog, and tiny corkscrew shells he finds at the beach.

The box was the catalyst: before we knew it, he’d embraced collecting and treasure, moved on from robots and mechanical things, and jumped headfirst (arrrrrr, me-hearties!) into the world of pirates roaming the high seas.

Obsessed, I tell you.

Actually, I can’t begin to tell you how fun this phase is; there are plenty of hand-drawn maps and more cause for armour (yeah, I didn’t know that pirates wore armour either!), eye patches, and toilet roll spyglasses with bright cellophane stuck to one end. Beach visits see him spending a considerable amount of time scanning the horizon watching for approaching tall ships, and digging in the sand at random intervals, just in case visiting pirates buried their loot.

At home, the treasure box now lives securely in a treasure chest; his fanciful stories have scary monsters that morph into hooked/peg-legged pirates (that fly through the sky chasing our magic dog, Ella and superhero sister Lou, who eats cake while sitting on the sun), and driving sees us playing a version of ‘Where’s Wally,’ pirate-style.

For the record, pirates seem to camp out a lot in trees, hide in clouds, and like visiting McDonalds for ice-cream. Who would have guessed?

Personally, I love treasure. And I wished that I had my own small wonders still tucked away somewhere, safe in a rusty box or buried beneath one of our old Queenslanders in the cool under-the-house dirt. My box may have contained paper dolls, pressed flowers, small hand-drawn pictures, pages from picture books and magazines, little dolls, and handwritten notes in envelopes with crinkle-edged stamps.

What would your treasure box contain?

Nat

Our new house

Right now, it's catering for a menagerie of wild animals. There’s a lion and a hippo in the bathtub, two lassie dogs tucked into the upstairs bedroom, and pigs and sheep climbing up the stairs. I found a goat in the kitchen cupboard, a cat sitting at the breakfast table with a camel, and a scary green-eyed gorilla thinking about using the toilet.

Our Lou loves her new dollhouse. And I’m often stealing away to sit down and play with her too.

Want to see how it turned out?

Here’s shell of the house, the week before Christmas:

And all shiny and bright, Christmas morning:

Are you renovating a dollhouse yourself and want some inspiration? Check out Steph at Mon Petit Poppet and Megan at Mousehouse – they’re amazing!

Nat

Making Christmas Ours...

This year, I’m making a pumpkin pie for Christmas Day desert.

And perhaps even a lemon tart, loaded with fresh seasonal berries.

There’ll be lazy after-dinner swims in the pool, iced tea in tall glass pitchers, old (sometimes scratchy) jazz records being played, and a string of lanterns glowing on the verandah.

I’ve been thinking about starting our own family Christmas traditions a lot lately – you know, the things that you do every year as a family (isn’t there just a loveliness in things that stay the same over time?), and the things that we’ll look forward to with delicious anticipation. The small things that will make Christmas our Christmas.

The babes are old enough now to be swept up in magical things, and we’ve been discussing Santa’s job (and whether Santa enlists the help of fairies to help him out), and all the childlike things that go along with it. Judah has decided that he wants to leave a present for Santa, which I readily agreed to – and Lou suggested that the reindeer might like some honey on toast, along with the traditional carrots and apples. Who doesn’t like hot-buttered honey toast?

Dave and I have been brainstorming ways to make the magic of the season real for them both. Inside, on our bright Christmas morning, there’ll be a note left from Santa, footprints leading out from the fireplace, and a pile of string-wrapped presents stacked under the Judah-decorated tree. The plate of homemade goodies that the little ones will make the day before, will have proved too much of a temptation for old St Nick; and outside, the reindeer feast will be all but a memory. There may even be some sparkly glitter in the place where they rested – evidence of their magical pit-stop.

As we lean towards the loveliness of Christmas day, the kids have begun making their presents for the people they love most in the world – with my help, of course. Their drawings are very person-specific, and done with such care and sweetness; some of them have been transformed into small artworks, some have been set aside for more intricate projects in the New Year. But most importantly, they are all wrapped up in the idea of giving to people, and I can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm.

Do you have Christmas traditions that you’ve brought into your family from your childhood? Or have you created your own special family traditions?

Nat

Image from here.

Rowdy, rough-and-tumble types...

My babes are wrestlers.

They’re also fast-running-around-the-table, rolling around in mud, climbing dangerously high (and jumping without fear), and fake laughing in the mirror kind of kids. They do everything in a loud way; will shriek and screech over the smallest finds, and love making up circus tricks and tumbling down the hallway. They make loud, scary noises when pulling faces, breakdance to bad 80’s music, and sing off key to our favourite songs. I never dress them in white. Ever.

Even though I’m more than aware of their boisterous beginnings, this week I had the opportunity to see a work in progress performance in an inner city theatre, a play for two-to-five year olds all about play – and I must admit, I hesitated. Especially because when I was reading the email invitation, Judah was standing on the dining table shouting ‘Fi! Fi! Fo! Fum!’ and beating his chest like King Kong, and I could hear Lou outside squealing repeatedly over a colony of ants that she’d found in the mud.

But then I thought, why not? They may just surprise me…

As it was, my energetic two were very good, and aside from a few feet stamping and jumping on cushion episodes, all went beautifully. But the thing I love the most?  How seeing the performance has influenced their own imaginings and the way that they play together: Judah’s been pretending to swim around the house, holding his breath so his plump little cheeks stick out, breast-stroking at a furious pace, and diving onto the couch to paddle-kick his legs at breakneck speed. And Lou has been exploring with boxes, copying Judah’s enthusiastic swimming displays, and hiding under sheets – just like the actors did.

It was an interesting lesson for me – perhaps I box my wrestlers/mud rollers too quickly, and don’t really give them the opportunity to experience new, quieter things because I’m afraid they’ll be too disruptive. But I’m thinking that we may just become a theatre-going family after all… which is very, very cool.

Have your children ever surprised you in a similar way?

Nat

Ps. Only one more week left before we draw the winner of our $50 Quill & Ink Handmade gift voucher! To enter, all you need to do is post a photo on our facebook page of your Quill & Ink product with its new owner, and like us (if you don’t already). Simple as that! Best photo wins…. x

Grateful #23 – What are you thankful for this week?

Sometimes being unwell is just the remedy you need, you know? It forces you to slow right down, look after your body, listen to the early bed call, and take the time (or make the time) to rest, instead of rushing around madly. And even though you feel utterly wretched, sleep and love and tea mean that you’re stronger and better able to climb back on top of daily tasks when it all passes on.

With that in mind, this week I’m grateful for:

Hand sewing. At the beginning of the week when I felt broken and stuffed up and in need of at least ten years of sleep all in a row, I started on a small, lovely project for the doting Grandmothers for Christmas. All propped up and comfy on the couch, with water, endless boxes of tissues, and a life-saving movie on for the babes, I began to embroider - what a relaxing, wonderful skill! All those small, neat stitches, a simple design, and the makings of a (hopefully!) treasured present.

But the sweetest part? Judah climbing in and snuggling under the covers with me,  and measuring his hands against the embroidered pattern, just in case he’d grown while I was stitching…

Renovating. Ok, it’s not my real house – but a simply-designed wooden dollhouse I found on Ebay for an absolute bargain, and started working on this week in preparation for Lou for Christmas. I’ve been having a ball painting and planning and researching (you’d be surprised how many people take the redecoration of a dollhouse very seriously), but I’m keeping it simple: a lick of paint, some new upholstery on the wooden furniture and bedding (plastic-y pink fabric is out!), and a change of clothes for the peg-like dolls. Lou has a real love for small, pocket-sized things, and I’m bursting at the thought of her playing with this lovingly restored treasure on Christmas day.

What are you grateful for this week?

Nat

Ps. Want to play too? Link your grateful post back to the very clever Maxabella Loves, or write your grateful list in the comments section below x

Grateful #22: What are you thankful for this week?

It’s been a crazy couple of weeks.

But in amongst some out-of-this-world temper tantrums (toddlers – sheesh!), was the loveliest, food and wine filled holiday spent in the company of the most wonderful people. It’s given me so much to be grateful for this week, including….

The comfort and contentment of home. We had the most delicious time away, and absolutely loved exploring and spending time with our beautiful family in Adelaide. But how nice is it to come home to familiar spaces, well loved things (and to a beloved husband who was lonely without two rambunctious children)?

We arrived home late, on a warm, clear night, and as soon as the bags were inside, I crawled into our bed with the smile of a happy traveller. In the morning, I couldn’t help but marvel at the growth in the garden (our tomatoes and snow peas are in bloom!), and even allowed Ella, our stinky mastiff, to lie smiling on my feet.

I baked, drunk tea, and pottered; did loads of laundry and watched a snake wind its way around a tree in the garden. I took up my needle and began to sew.

I like travelling, but I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m a homebody at heart; and it made me even more grateful for our patch of the world, and all the love and life it contains.

Lyra. The littlest and loveliest of our family turned two a couple of days ago – Lyra (or Lou) spent the day in a sea of colourful balloons and pink wrapping paper, talked loudly, giggled and squealed, ate dreamy vanilla cakes with chocolate butterflies perched on top, drew all over her legs and face with new felt-tip pens, and was loved up by lots of people who think she’s just the bees knees (Judah, on the other hand was so distraught that it wasn’t his birthday that he spent most of the day crying, and/or stamping his feet with the injustice of it all; which is actually pretty funny).

But our sweet Lyra-Lou – goodness, I love her. She wakes with a smile on her face every morning, charms the socks off anyone who meets her, and is just the loveliest, most delightful little person. I spend all day thinking about how very, very fortunate we are to have this precious girl as our own, and how much light and love she’s given us in the two short, blink-of-an-eye years that she’s been here. And that she’s my child: my heart almost bursts with gratitude.

How about you? What are you grateful for this week?

Nat

Ps. Want to play too? Link your grateful post back to Maxabella Loves, or write your grateful list in the comments section below x

Grateful #21: What are you thankful for today?

What a week!

My fingers are sore from so much hand sewing, but today I very proudly reached my market stock quota; which is a first, and pretty darn exciting! It means that all that careful planning has finally paid off, that I’m somehow staying motivated, and that I’m working consistently. Anyone who is self-employed will know how hard that is to do at times! My nook is alive with colour and material and bright spools of cotton thread, and I’m sketching new ideas and small things to try almost daily. It’s the most delicious thing, to be in a creative surge…

And aside from being very grateful and quietly chuffed with my new found creativity, this week I’m very grateful for:

Bananas. I’m not sure how the banana situation is in the southern states, but ever since the beginning of the year, Queensland bananas have been madly expensive, and for us, way, way too costly to buy.

So, as I’m driving home one afternoon, I see that our local fruit and veg shop started selling their ladyfinger bananas at $3.99 a kilo. I almost squealed, and very nearly had an accident in my haste to get there and bag up. They were tiny and green and in gorgeous bunches; and lucky us! We’ve all been wallowing in banana-ry-goodness this week. As silly as it sounds, I’m so grateful for the chance to eat one of my favourite fruits, whenever I like without worrying about the price. And sliced banana on fresh buttered toast is the best and most delicious start to the day.

Power-naps. I had a power nap for the first time yesterday. Set my alarm for 20 minutes, crawled into bed absolutely exhausted, and promptly fell asleep. And even though I did get a crazy fright when the alarm sounded, I jumped out of bed, and got back to work, feeling a bit dazed but refreshed none-the-less.

Questions. So, we’re firmly in the ‘but why, Mum?’ phase with Judah, who asks a million questions about every random thing that we see, hear, taste or do during the day. I’m getting better at answering his queries, but I do catch myself saying, ‘because that’s just the way it is,’ – after we’ve been harping on the same topic for what seems like hours and hours. He doesn’t seem to mind; it opens up another topic to ask hundreds of questions about. Lou’s jumped on the bandwagon, and has begun asking her own ‘why’ questions – but quickly loses interest and seems to like the way that why sounds when it’s said, more than the information that follows it.

I am so liking this new phase in their development, and I’m enjoying being a mini font of knowledge (even if some things are made up).

What are you grateful for this week?

Nat

Ps. Grateful? Want to join in too?

Kim and I are heading up the coast to prep for Mamma's market in the morning, so this post is scheduled. But if you visit the gorgeous Maxabella loves after around 9pm tonight, you'll be able to follow where to leave your grateful linky.

Have a wonderful weekend!

Point and Shoot: Our Weekend that Was

We’re joining in with lovely Lou’s meme tonight – Point and Shoot. It’s been a while since I’ve taken photos with a P&S purpose, but we’ve just had the loveliest, loveliest weekend – wanna see?

It all started with a lemon tart - my first lemon tart making experience - and it just happened to be so, so good that I made it twice in two days. The first was shared with dear friends after a seafood feast; the second was horded and eaten sparingly, in a savouring-the-refreshing-sweetness-of-it-all kind of way…

The kids were handed oversized gardening gloves on our sunny Sunday morning, and put to work tidying up the sorely neglected vegetable garden. And underneath all those prickly cobblers pegs and spiky, suffocating weeds, were these vibrant beauties…

We turned the soil, all rich and loamy after a few days of rain; we hunted through the strawberry leaves to see if any new berries were forming, rubbed fresh picked lavender between our hands to release its heady scent, and worked up a sweat in the gorgeously warm spring-time sunshine.

There was a long, lazy afternoon of sewing – piecing, pinning and pulling together the six cheerful citrus blocks from my beginners sampler quilt (I didn’t think it was possible, but it seems to be even brighter now that it’s edged with the chocolate brown sashings!)...

…and a big, hearty tart filled with slow roasted winter vegetables and melt-in-the-mouth Danish feta for Sunday dinner (I meant to take a photo of this too, but it was cut up and tucked into too quickly).

Some weekends are just meant for family and pottering, aren’t they? 

Nat

Ps. Got some wonderful photos from your weekend that was too? Join in! Visit Sunny + Scout here to link up with Lou’s P&S post. And check out her beautiful, candid photography while you’re there – it’s heartwarming, honest and utterly delightful x

Grateful #20 – What are you thankful for today?

It’s a grey day in Brisbane this morning, and the rain is soaking in and softening our soil again – just in time for a new spurt of vegetable planting that I was hoping to do sometime next week. Our poor veg garden has been a wee bit neglected of late – the weeds are in competition (and seem to be winning), and Ella, our sad-faced mastiff, has taken to burying her bones in the root vegetable patch (and heavens, do they stink!).

But the weather is warming, and I’m starting to think of summer salads, leafy greens, trellis-covered snow peas, and a carpet of cheerful bee attracting flowers. And maybe even some citrus and a small apple tree.

So with gardens on my mind, this week I’m grateful for:

The promise of Spring. Even though I loved winter this year, and revelled in the feasting, sharing, and comforting goodness of it all, I’ve been feeling a bit grey, and unconsciously looking out for signs of a warmer change.

Our house backs onto a steep incline, a bubbling, story-book type creek, and the local golf course, and in the first blush of spring, the trees in this wild ravine become covered in a strange kind of pure white, mock orange flower. The scent is amazing – especially first thing in the morning; and this week, I noticed that the tall gums and smaller shrubs in our pretty bit of wilderness are absolutely covered in it.

A small dance of joy for the beginning of spring in our pocket of the world.

A morning play. The last few mornings, I’ve let the kids play outside in their pyjamas, a little after 7am. With a million things to do first thing in the morning, and two very active toddlers wanting something fun to do RIGHT NOW, this seemed like the most sensible solution. Yes, pyjamas got covered in dirt (and mud after one rainy night), the dog’s dry biscuits got eaten by Lou (ick!), and socks got buried in random holes, but they were content in exploring their early morning backyard, which was cool and fresh and alive with the sound of birds (And inside, I was more than grateful for the space to tick a few tasks off my daily to-do list!).

What are you grateful for this week?

Nat

Ps. Linking up with the wonderful Maxabella– and you can too! Post your Grateful list here, or write it in the comments section below. Have a wonderful weekend!

Childhood Games

Our survey is in full swing, and it’s been lovely reading all the responses – thank you to everyone who’s already taken part – your feedback is greatly appreciated! If you’d like to be in the running to win a gorgeous Quill & Ink Handmade prize pack, you can fill out our quick survey here. Entries close soon!

In the surveys, it’s been interesting to see the progression of change in the games and toys and the way that we’ve played over generations – it’s always been something that’s really interested me (and not just because we make toys for children).

I’ve always loved hearing stories of how our grandparents played and the types of toys they had, compared to the way our parents played, and the games that they were able to create. Even the games and toys that I played with as a child are quite different to the games my wee ones play now. Not better or worse, mind you; but I guess the most obvious difference would be is that they generally have more to spark that creativity, more things to create their games with.

I don’t remember much about my childhood toy stash; but here are a couple of key things that we played with that stand out in my memory - like my box of paper dolls. Kim and I also shared a box of small, palm sized dolls, which we (very creatively) called ‘Little Dolls’ – which were played with for years, until they were literally falling apart with too much handling. The dolls all had names from the Sound of Music and the Slipper and the Rose (a musical version of Cinderella), which were our two favourite movies. I’m pretty sure that we even had multiple dolls that we named Leisel, because wasn’t she the most beautiful, most graceful and just the loveliest girl?

And at school, it was all about crazy athletic games which involved flexibility or accuracy; and for a little while there, the school yard was littered with girls kicking up their legs like can-can dancers to play Elastics (thanks for the reminder, Maxabella – it made me smile) – do you remember that game? I was even confident when the elastic height neared holders’ necks – how in the world did we ever manage that?

We were also obsessed for a while with handball, which was tricky and competitive and often resulted in lots of heated arguments over line balls and whether the serves were legal, and if the other person was cheating. There was always tiggy, red rover (both of which I seemed to be totally hopeless at), roller skating, soccer (in the middle of summer, when the earth seemed to be on fire), and skipping ropes, which was revived every year during the ‘Jump Rope for Heart’ campaign. I even remember a skipping carnival, where we raised money for the Heart Foundation by spending a whole day taking turns with the skipping rope, dressed in red, red ribbons flying in our plaited hair.

Right now, my babes are half-heartedly playing with a tub of Lego and a box of matchbox cars. Judah’s chasing a balloon around the house, trying to tackle it like a football player, and Lou’s attempting to stand on her head. We’ve had guitars out this morning, have done a bit of Elvis dancing, and there’s talk of bike riding as soon as it warms up a bit.

Isn’t play, in all its forms, just the most magical thing?

Do you remember your favourite childhood games?

Nat

Image from here.

Grateful #15 - What are you thankful for today?

I’m really loving winter this year; all those crisp, clear-sky mornings, icy fingers and toes thawing out in hot baths, endless cups of tea, and a (flimsy) excuse to bake deliciously hearty dinners and belly-warming desserts.

I think winter is a time of reflection for me as well; is it for you too? I’ve been thinking all week about how fortunate we are, how we’re surrounded in love and care, have the most wonderful family and friends, and have a world of opportunity at our feet. I just love that path that we’re on at the moment.

And in particular, this week I’m very grateful for:

Home-grown loveliness. This week, we were all about pumpkin and herbs. Having pulled an enormous pumpkin from the garden a couple of weeks ago, it was time to use it – so I happily set to baking and making! First up, two batches of awesome pumpkin, parmesan, chive and bacon muffins (so good with garlic and chive cream cheese), which was lovely for snacks and rush-out-the-door breakfasts. Then a massive pumpkin and spinach lasagne, with layers of potato, ricotta and steamed chicken thrown in for good measure. I was so proud of our pumpkin effort, and that this one nurtured vegetable had fed our family all week. It gave me a renewed energy towards our sustainable garden, and how wonderful it’ll be in summer when things are really bursting and blooming with goodness.

Sisters. I’m always, always grateful for my lovely sister; but sometimes I see her in a whole new way and I can’t help but be amazed at her all over again. This week, I admire her for her patience, as she quietly and steadily works towards her dreams and goals. And I can’t wait for all of those wonderful long-cherished wishes to begin unfolding in her life.

‘What’s that?’ I spent a few moments every day this week sitting still, while my Lou pointed at various things and asked Whas that? - waiting only a second for me to respond before finding something else to ask about. All those new words! I’ve noticed that the 'whas that' game seems to have unlocked her understanding of language, and has allowed her to speak in more complete sentences – which is so wonderful! Admittedly, some of her sentences are parts of random words sandwiched together, but it’s still lovely to listen to. I’m also aware that it won’t be long before she’s speaking beautifully, so I’m enjoying her sweet baby language while it lasts.

What are you grateful for this week?

Nat

Ps. Join in! We’re linking up with the delightful Maxabella Loves – you can add your link to her Grateful post, or write your grateful list in the comments section below.

What's in a name?

I’ve been thinking a lot about names lately.

It’s because I’ve been writing this set of stories for the longest time, and the tale I’m working on at the moment has a nameless main character. Which, shouldn’t really matter, but it does. I guess it's because I’m a firm believer in a name meaning something, and even having the ability to shape your character (even if it’s only in my constructed fictional world). So while I’ve been wondering about my child-characters name and how this single word defines her, it’s prompted me to look over the old Shakespeare musing – what’s in a name? And does a name fit to a person, or does a person grow into a name?

Definitely the hardest name choice to date would be naming our children. David and I struggled over names for days once our babies were born – and argued (in a friendly way) about all the names we loved or hated during those long months leading up to their arrival. For my first pregnancy and babe, I was so utterly convinced that I was having a girl, that when the doctors placed our small wriggling son onto my belly, I was absolutely astonished: A boy? Really?

It took us more than a day to find a name for our wee lad because nothing seemed to suit him. Luckily, I had, at some stage during the pregnancy, jotted down the name Judah into my journal – I liked the biblical history behind the name; it spoke to me of strength, tenacity, determination. His name also has a wonderful pictorial representation - the mighty lion, battle ready. We’re all for double meanings and finding significance in the everyday – and were delighted when we found that it linked so beautifully with daddy David’s English/Viking heritage, both represented in a similar way by the lion.

But, best of all, when we held our tiny newborn son and spoke his new name over him, it just…fit. It became him. And over time, he grew into this mighty name.

The second pregnancy came quickly and blissfully – and when our daughter was born, there was only one name for her: Lyra.

Lyra is actually a constellation – images of the cluster of stars show a rainbow of beautiful colour, and one of the brightest stars in the sky, Vega. The stars form the pattern of an ancient lyre – or I guess, a guitar. Our small family loves music; it’s been a common love between David and I, and we’re so fortunate that our children seemed to have inherited this absolute love of music as well. Both of the kids were introduced to music in utero – crackly, but much-loved jazz records, the Beatles, Frank Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald, Jimi Hendrix, BB King and Bob Marley, lots of impromptu guitar playing, lots of made up melodies and a dash of classical thrown in for good measure. We loved the connection between this beautiful name, the musical influences and love of music that we were trying to instil into their young lives.

And little Lyra Meredith so suited her new name.

But unlike Judah, sweet Lyra is mostly known for her pet name, Lou. Judah was only 14 months old when our girl was born, and Lyra proved to be quite a mouthful for one so young. So, cooing to her one morning while still in the hospital, I played around with nicknames - and Lyra became Lyra-Lou, which was shortened to Lou, and then affectionately extended to Lou-Lou. And it stuck.

The hardest part about choosing names – especially for children? The fact that you’ve got to speak them and love them for the rest of your life. And maybe, because I’m a writer and love words so much, I so wanted to find names that meant something – to us, yes; but also names that were strong, beautiful, different.

If you have children, how did you choose their names? Do you place importance in the meaning behind a name?

Nat

Ps. I was apparently named after legendary actress, Natalie Wood, but few people, if any, call me Natalie. Actually, when my whole name is said, I feel like I’m being scolded; I’m so used to being called Nat or Nattie that anything else feels like I’m in some kind of trouble from my mama. Are you like this too - more comfortable with your nickname than your given name?

Grateful #13 - What are you thankful for today?

I remember my beloved grandmother saying, a very long time ago, that life goes by in the blink of an eye once you’re an adult, and to never wish your young days away. At the time, I was in my early teens and impatient for the idea of what being a grown-up really meant; and I wished with all my might for a decade to hurry up and pass, so I could do all the wonderful things I’d been dreaming of.

My Grandmother, Renee, as a young mother in India

I’ve been remembering my grandmother a lot lately; small, wise, softly spoken woman that she was. And she was right – as she usually was – time does slip away from you when you’re a grown up; weeks turn into busy months, and months tumble into years, and things happen faster than you could ever imagine.

With that in mind, this week I’m grateful for:

Timeless-ness. I’ve had to explain to the kids quite a lot lately about doing things ‘tomorrow’ or ‘next week’ or ‘another time.’ It’s still such a tricky concept for them to grasp, because everything is NOW! or in an hour, and the prospect of waiting, even a day, is often met with wails of disapproval.

But goodness, I like their idea of ‘right now’ - it’s so wonderfully spontaneous, and it sometimes makes me wonderfully spontaneous too.

Old fashioned advice. How wonderful is it to be given a good piece of advice?

(Alright, I freely admit that I’m not always 100% receptive to it; but when it’s relevant, done with kindness and in the spirit of genuine sharing, I do love and welcome it)

My Grandma was very good at advising in the gentlest, most considerate way, and it’s something that I’d like to emulate in my own life. Sometimes, I manage quite well; other times I’m so far off and rambling and should just keep my random pieces of advice to myself, thank-you-very-much. But in spite of my bumbling advisory tactics, I’m so grateful for the small tidbits of advice I’m personally given on a week to week basis, from trusted friends, family, chance-met strangers, my partner and even my children (who know all about everything and anything), because most of the time, it’s done in love and given in kindness, which really is a wonderful thing.

What are you grateful for this week?

Nat

Ps. Want to play too? Link your grateful post to the delightful Maxabella Loves, or write your list in the comments section below x

Grateful #10: What are you thankful for today?

We all lead such busy lives; I’m guilty of breezing through the day, barely stopping, slurping tea on my way to the next task, shooing the kids away from whatever project I’m working on that day. I’m guilty of not stopping to appreciate anything, and being wrapped up in my own busyness.

So, this week, I’m grateful for:

Small moments of loveliness. This week, I made a point of stopping; and it was based on a blog post I read by the lovely Gill at Alice Becomes.

Gill wrote a post last week about wanting to live in the moment, and how she decided to stop at 7:14pm one night to be present, still and grateful. And it really resonated with me – because I don’t do it nearly enough, and wish I did it a whole lot more.

So this week, I stopped.

A lot.

I stopped to listen to my children chatter to eachother during the day. I fell in love with the fact that they fall all over eachother every morning after a big sleep, and hug like they’re long lost friends, returning from an adventure. I paid attention when they read stories together, when they held hands out to the car, or danced together to new music, Lou stamping her feet off-beat to the rhythm, Judah strumming his three-stringed guitar.

I wallowed in the gorgeous smell of roasted apple and blueberry muffins, hot out of the oven; the extra sweetness of marshmallows in hot chocolate; fresh cut lavender and snapdragons in a vase in our kitchen, straight from the garden.

I lounged like a cat in the sunny spots, and found lots of excuses to be outside. One afternoon, I planted onions, leeks, carrots, beets, sage, coriander, a chilli tree, and a honey-bee attracting grevillea; I stopped to appreciate the warmth of the sun as it broke the chill of the wind, and the loamy damp smell of fresh turned earth.

I stopped to appreciate the stillness of the house late at night, my feet in new woolly sock, the soft glow of the lamp over my sewing machine. And I watched our sad-faced dog dream, legs jerking, yapping a sleepy bark which made me think she was on the chase.

So thank you, Gill – I’m so grateful for your blog post, because I had the loveliest week following your lead.

What are you grateful for this week?

Nat

Ps. Link your Grateful post back to the addictive-reading Maxabella Loves, or write your grateful list in the comments section below. You can also follow and comment on Gill and Nic’s 7:14pm project here x

Image from here. I’m the queen of post-it notes for reminders…