Now you are six

DorkySon

So now you are six.

You are not a wee soft thing anymore. There is still a slight curve to your belly, and enough for a squeeze under your chin, but otherwise you are all angles and lines, long skinny legs pink with the sun.

What a year we’ve had together. This time twelve months ago you were still settling into kindergarten, sometimes nervous around other children, struggling to hold a pen the right way. But you are in the perfect school. It is a community that has nurtured all your strengths and found the right way to help with your weaknesses.

Like us, they have realised that you like to do things in your own time, unhurried. They know that gentle nudges towards independence work far better for you than rough shoves. So now, one term into prep, it is all falling into place. The building blocks of reading and writing are coming together so fast we can hardly keep up with you. All the life skills – cycling, swimming, socialising – are getting better each week. And at home you are proud to help and get involved – dressing yourself, carrying plates, pouring drinks – you become more confident and less clumsy with every day that passes. Continue reading

Motherhood and the senses

motherhood and the senses

A few weeks ago I read Mothers Grimm, a collection of contemporary fairy tales about motherhood written by a wonderful Australian writer called Danielle Wood. There is a line in one of the stories which has stuck with me. A woman has recently given birth and is lying in hospital with her new baby alongside her.

“This night was the beginning of her new way of listening.”

It’s so true, isn’t it? Continue reading

Boy Love

Fripp Island beach

DorkyDad and I were lying in bed the other night. We were laughing.

He’s like you,” he said.

No, no, no. Don’t blame that mess on me,” I said. “He’s all you. Every last bit of it. It’s all your fault.

It was a shock to have a son. It was all a shock, actually. Pregnancy, labour, birth… that deep intake of breath that came when I was handed a solid little body for the first time.

I was so sure it was a girl. We had chosen her name. She would arrive calm and quiet in a rosy glow. Instinct would kick in and the rest would be easy.

Ha!

That’s what DorkySon says now. ‘

Ha! Tricking you!

Wee bugger.

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How do you measure motherhood?

Mothers day card

How do you measure motherhood?

By the number of nights you are last to fall asleep, waiting until you hear gentle snores float along the hallway. Or by the number of mornings you are first to wake, tiptoeing down to turn on the heater and warm up the house before breakfast.

By the tears dried, or arnica applied, by kisses or bedtime stories. By the number of times you’ve towelled wet hair, or the number of tiny toenails snipped, holding your breath in case you nip. Do you count bath times and birthdays, or the number of little-boy boogers you’ve had wiped on your skirt?

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