A Tiny Recap

 One day not long ago I said to Matt that I was looking forward to Tiny starting school. For the simple reason that we would no longer have a tussle over what she will wear that morning. Nevermind the fact I'll be a sobbing mess, rueing the day my baby went off to school.

The truth is, I am not looking forward to Tiny starting school. Everyone knows that as soon as small children start school, it fast tracks them to growing up even quicker.

I need to have another baby.

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Tiny lay in bed with me the other morning, curled up in my arms. I was sleep drunk and just wanted to snooze, despite the incessant shrill of my alarm telling me otherwise. Tiny rolled over and told me my breath was stinky.

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On Thursday Tiny and I went to see the Doctor at his school as part of Education Week. Tiny sat on my lap throughout the very long concert, then told me she wanted to whisper in my ear. I leant forward, "Mum, your breath smells."

It's love. And halitosis.

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Friday is the day Tiny goes to the new daycare/preschool thing. I have been in strong denial that she even goes there. This morning she cried and cried because she didn't want to go. I held my wee one in my arms and told her it was just for a short time, and that she'd have fun.

During the day I thought of her, me at work, her at a new place full of new faces. I tried to call to check on her but no one answered.

Matt texted me later that afternoon to say he had picked Tiny up. She'd even told him she'd had a fun day.

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This makes me think I have bad breath. I hate bad breath. Moving forward I will not breath on anyone.

Therapeutic Monday:: In The Garden

I spent some time in the garden yesterday. Actually a lot of time. With secateurs in hand. 

The reason for this spate of Gardening Australia? I had to find the water meter for the water meter reader man. Do you think I found it? Nope. Despite hacking into everything - and being completely disgusted with the weeds that think it's ok to procreate in my garden. I still have not found the meter. 


However I did find my inner gardener, my inner Peter Cundal. It was sprinkling and cold and yet - I was stalwart and continued hacking into those overgrown bushes (not that bush, manners, please). I must be channeling my mum. And my grandmother. Both keen gardeners. Now there are piles of clippings all over our garden. And nowhere to put them. Novice fail. 


It was good to do physical work - to feel the physical tiredness, and see tangible results. 


In other ground breaking news Tiny went back to preschool today - and I got to spend some time with her and her classmates, decorating picture plates. Boy it was funny, I was chuffed to spend time there, and today was a triumph. Tiny wore jeans. Crumbs. She gave me a cute attack. 


Tonight Tiny told me she wanted to climb onto my back and never hop off, no matter what, she'd just ride up there on my back - and never-ever- everlet me go, then she would yell: "this is paradise". Chris Martin has been brainwashing her. 


Sigur Ros. This is beautiful. A good reason for me to move to Iceland. Good music and crazy knits. 


Tomorrow, on ANZAC day, we're planning to head into the city. I enjoy seeing the diggers, waving, acknowledging them. I'd like to take the smalls to see that, with rosemary pinned on. 

A Big Week At Chez PottyMouth

Well, well, well.

It's been a big week around our neck of the woods.

The Doctor started back at school. Exciting. Scared. Nervous. Poor little guy was so nervous on the day, he couldn't eat much for breakfast, so we just chatted about why he was nervous; what was going to happen at school (we could only guess); and how he knew lots already about school - and he'd be back with his friends.

This week he is KO'ed and hitting the hay early every night.

Golly gosh he makes my heart swell.

And the other big news for the Doctor...
He lost one of his top front teeth on Tuesday - and the Tooth Fairy came overnight. Mega cute attacks.

Tiny is at a new preschool and loving it. I have such a good feeling about the preschool, and can't wait 'til I get to go and pick her up again, because I just quite like being there! Maybe I should study early childhood, then I could go there more often. 

And the good news here: Tiny is hitting the hay early too - which is amazeballs because like I've said before, that girl has STAMINA, with a capital S. 

How's your week going? School? Packing lunches? You ok? 

So I'll Just Document Everything

The last week has been a bit of a whirlwind, and I've got no big news. Nothing besides, Tiny turning four - which is big news to me, because she's still my baby.

But the Doctor finished Kindergarten on Friday, and that was such a bittersweet day. Proud of him - but overwhelmed. Seriously - where did that year go to, and can I get a refund? I hugged his beautiful teacher goodbye, and felt more than a pang of sadness as I did so. She has been a gentle, nurturing soul, who has led him into his first year of formal education. And so it is, Kindergarten is already over.

Today we had Tiny's Christmas concert - and again, bittersweet. Man that girl slays me. As soon as we locked eyes, she waved, so enthusiastically to me, her enthusiasm broke my little heart into a bazillion pieces. And then she sang her little heart out. Then got bored. Then put her feet up on the seat - and in my head I was saying "No Tiny, put your legs back down, no, no.." Too late. She sat there - albeit for a brief moment - flashing her knickers. One of the Mum's turned and looked at me, with that look - she knew exactly what I was thinking. Thankfully Tiny had her own epiphany and put her legs back down and fixed her skirt. For a moment I had contemplated running up the front to fix her skirt.

After some deliberating earlier this year, we've enrolled Tiny into a community preschool that's closer to home and to the Doctor's school. It was a hard decision, but I am so excited by this change, though sad to leave our KU, I have such a great feeling about the new preschool, already feel part of the community - which is a big deal for me, since I work, and I didn't feel that so much at the current place. A change is as good as a holiday, right? 

Today the Doctor told me he either wants to be a DJ or a spy when he grows up.

Tiny got all the birds hanging on our Christmas tree, and first made a nest out of dropped pine needles. Then reassembled them on the tree together.

I have started wrapping our Christmas presents. But I ran out of wrapping paper. This poses a problem when wrapping presents.

And lastly, I had my eyebrows done, and since they are so dark, I thought I looked a bit Frida Kahlo-ish. So I stuck some flowers on my head and went with it.

How are you holding up? Are you all shopped out? Is it a wrap? Will you be eating for the rest of the month?

What Is This Called?

This is Tiny.

This is Tiny running ridiculously late for preschool.

This is Tiny after staying up half the night, sleeping in 'til 8:20am, being hurried through breakfast, wearing all purple and veto-ing any other footwear other than her trusty yellow gumboots - yes they will be the best choice of footwear on a sweltering summer day.

This is Tiny who somehow, despite running late, manages to somehow negotiate a fresh pain au chocolat from the French boulangerie, sitting on bench with her mama, sucking in a few extra moments before heading off to preschool.

This is Tiny.

New Shoes

Tiny has something against shoes.

Or more precisely, she has a thing against shoes that have been fitted properly, by a shoe fitting expert. Instead she likes to wear her gum boots sans socks (pooh!), some old Country Road canvas sneaks sans socks (pooh!) or a rip-off Bensimon sneaker by Gumboots sans socks (pooh!). Or sometimes, just for something special, she wears her baby Tip Toey Joeys. She shoves her almost-four-year-old foot into those soft soled suckers and wears them. And wears them. And keeps right on wearing them. If only they made Tip Toey Joey's for almost-four-year-olds, and she'd be set. 

Sometimes she even lashes out and wears her cousins much-loved first shoes, and looks like something out of Narnia, with the heels sticking out the back. It's an odd sight, trust me. I'm an expert.

Alternatively, Tiny likes to tap her inner nomad and go barefoot. Which is all well and good if you've got soles thicker than a set of Pirellis, but she doesn't, and life isn't a cabaret old chum, and the ground is dirty, and there is glass, and burrs, and dirt and stuff. So shoes - yes, shoes are your friend.

So in sheer desperation, I bought some ridiculously super cool shiny purple Saltwater Sandals from my friend, Hayley, at Little Pinwheel.  

You may think happily ever after, right?

Wrong. Tiny had a huge and relentless tantrum, that started when she got in the car, and finally finished half an hour later at pre-school. Tiny finally agreed to put her new Saltwaters on. She still wasn't convinced, despite the initially gush of love - she wasn't sold (I was! I love those wee shoes!).

I whispered to her teacher, J, that Tiny was not happy Jan, and that shoes were the very bane of her existence.

J's eyes lit up. She led Tiny over to her wee friend Lily - and SNAP! - Lily was wearing the same shoes. Same colour. Same shiny. Same same same.

And that, my friends, is a happy shoe story. No Louboutins. No Blahniks. Just a really cool pair of Saltwater Sandals in really rad shiny purple, a tale of two friends - left foot and right foot. It's destiny.

It's Sunday Love:: Tiny Loves Cussing

We got up early today. Well the Doctor always gets up super early. But Matt and the Doctor went bike-riding early. And about 5 minutes after they left, Tiny wanted to go meet them. So after my request of "five more minutes" in the toasty warm bed with seventy-eleven layers, we clambered out of bed. Half-dressed and hot footed it to surprise the boys.

It was wet and cold in the park. We found our boys and decided to go have a hot chocolate before coming back to enjoy the park. Maybe when the wet had dissipated. Ahem.

Tiny and I were perched at the cafe, drinking our hot chocolate and flat white respectively, when I spotted the boys. I said: "Tiny, I see the boys spying on us." To which Tiny so eloquently replied with an F-bomb.

Wow.

It's not the first time.

I've promptly gone into swearing rehab. I've gone cold-turkey on swearing, given my 3.5 year old swears so appropriately. And sometimes not so.

One morning before school, the Doctor and she had been having some biffo. She walked into me while I was getting dressed and said: "F*** man."

My swear word of choice now? Supercalifragilisticexpialadocious. Or however it's spelt. Trying saying that when you're furious.

Tiny, I'm sorry you have a PottyMouth. And it's my fault.

But how about those magnolias. That blue sky. AYE CARUMBA! (How was that for changing the subject?)

The Flat Stanleys/Puppy Remedy

What are your remedies for having an acute case of the Flat Stanleys?

Me? I look at this funny, funny photo of Tiny. Tiny is, without doubt, a great source of amusement.

She LOVES this little rattle that she was given as a newborn. It's not a rattle to her. It's a bone. She's a puppy with a little bone. She walks around with that little bone wedged in her puppy mouth. Then she starts sucking the saliva out of it. It's woeful, let me tell you. Then she curls up on my pillow with the bone, and dribbles on my pillow. It's gross, and yet it's funny. It's so funny.

That little puppy. That little nuded up puppy with a bunny bone. She loves that little bone - and who am I to mess with the puppy and it's bone?

SpiderGirl VS A Dancer

Matt and I have been having tussles with Tiny lately.

If it's not about her wanting to be nuded up all the time, or the fact that she won't go to bed, or that once we do manage to wrangle her body into clothes - she only wants to wear a skirt or dress, then it's about attacking the Doctor, or splashing the entire bathroom in water as though she's a human mini-tsunami. Or just getting into general mischief.

I've said it once, and I will say it again, Tiny is a firework.

This morning was a small victory when I asked Tiny if she'd like to go to preschool as SpiderGirl.

SpiderGirl is Tiny's interpretation of Spiderman - she loves wearing the Doctor's old dress ups.

Of course she said YES! And she put those clothes on and did not remove them.

Be amazed because usually she takes everything off within one minute. I'm not lying.

So off SpiderGirl went to preschool.

But silly, silly me. When I got home, I asked her how SpiderGirl went and she told me something very vague - which led me to believe that the childcare worker at preschool made her take off her outfit and change.

I asked Matt, and he said he got the feeling that the preschool was not entirely at one with the idea of SpiderGirl.

This made me fume. On a couple of levels. Three to be more precise:

1) Tiny's using her imagination. That's SO important to me. You spend a long time in life conforming and trying to 'fit in' so why not embrace that imagination, let it thrive;

2) The day before she wore a tutu - and she wasn't asked to change her outfit;

3) Today is International Women's Day - I wonder if that SpiderGirl outfit would have been taken off a boy (if he was Spiderman)

I never knew there really was SpiderGirl. Daughter of Spiderman. Rad.

Writing While Sitting In The Freezer

This is a big week peeps!

Tiny had her first full day of preschool yesterday! Of course she loved it. And she loved seeing me when I picked her up - my heart felt full when I saw the joy in her little face.

The Doctor had a morning at school today, just for half an hour, and his first day is on Thursday.

As for me, I am busy slaying dragons, ridiculously busy at work, not sleeping, and sitting under the airconditioner (in one room) and contemplating relocating to Woolworths frozen section for the week.

You?

PS - I was super lucky, one of my ace friends took me to see Cat Power at the Opera House on Sunday. AMAZING! Man that woman is beautiful - in every sense of the word.

It's Almost That Time

Tiny had her first day at preschool this week. Actually it was only three hours to be precise. She loved it. And so did we, because for the first time in a long time she went to bed at 6pm and stayed in bed until 6:30am the next morning.

Hello preschool. Where have you been for the last year?

And then the following days? A struggle to get her to bed.

The Doctor starts school next week. I'm an emotional wreck. Up and down. He on the other hand, a cool customer.

Anyway, have you seen Tangled? I haven't. But the kids and Matt have. Word on the street was it was great.

The Ever Evolving Lego Loving

Yesterday we got our filthy little mitts on something pretty darn fab! Lego are launching the world's first buildable board games in Australia in September.

The Doctor is suitably chuffed, and he has not stopped playing or talking about it since we took the game out of the packaging.

Lego is the toy de rigeur in our household at the moment. Park trips have been put on hold because he needs to clock up time constructing. I have to enforce outside play because it's not just an obsession, it's a hardcore Lego addiction. The Doctor has also been known to be ridiculously sad for having to go to bed instead of spending hours creating new buildings (his latest creation is a rad dog - skater boy).

But who doesn't love Lego (the only thing not to love about Lego is treading on it in bare feet - yowsers)? I bet you couldn't find one person who doesn't love sitting down to enjoy the merits of building something from bright blocks.

We're lucky enough to have Minotaurus ($39.99). And I am not kidding that we have been playing it since I walked in the door yesterday, I got woken up to play it this morning, and as soon as the Doctor came home from pre-school, we're back into it.

In fact, the Doctor loves it so much he's carrying around the catalogue everywhere (in the car, in the park, in the supermarket) and planning which one he wants next. Thankfully Minotaurus is a fun game. Matt and I are loving playing it with him - spending the time together, playing a game that relates to a five yeard old, but is fun for two 30+ year olds? Completely rad.

Even better is that you can change the game (and you get to build the board yourself) to keep it exciting. Minotaurus, you can not bore us.

The Return Of Preschool:: And Late Bloomers

Yesterday was Wednesday. It was the first day back at pre-school for the Doctor and there's me all stupid and misty-eyed. I don't know why - I was totes prepped for returning to pre-school. We've had a stupidly boring holiday period, I had mama guilt for how utterly boring things were (especially when surfing around to see everyone else's beautiful, bountiful holiday pics), and there's my little big guy. Totally happy to be back with his little mates.

Misty-eyed mama. It's the name of my new blog where I will document my daily doses of mama guilt.

Or not.

We started yesterday with a special breakfast to commemorate the big day. The Doctor requested pikelets (how cute is that?) and fresh orange juice. Too easy.

And today is day two. I can't wait to see him and hear about his day. Yesterday it was all about digging to the bottom of the sandpit. It was only a half day too so it was ok. But the Doctor warned me with:

"Mum you'll be ok today you will miss me a bit, but tomorrow is a whole day and you will miss me even more." I think he even chimed in, "But you'll be ok."

Misty-eyed Mama.

By the way, I've been a late bloomer when it comes to Mad Men. I heard everyone banging on about it, thought it sounded cool but our SBS reception is so poor I never tuned in. So I've hired the DVDs. Got to say, am loving it - but if I was a 50s housewife, I would surely flunk. Get my shoes dear. Get your own damn shoes.

Ends

Yesterday was the Doctor's end of year Christmas concert/sing-a-long at pre-school. I signed up to bake cupcakes, foolishly so, why did I commit to making so many cupcakes so early in the morning. I know better next year (just jokes, I love making and baking cupcakes, a little patty pan of joy in each one).

In the lead up to the concert the Doctor had very animatedly demonstrated his moves. The lyrics. It was big stylie exciting in our house. I was excited, and also feeling a bit sad. I still can't quite pinpoint it, but I felt that stinging of tears whenever I thought of it.

Is it because my big boy was finishing his first year of pre-school?

I don't know, but yesterday was so exciting for him. Three of his grandparents came to watch him, along with Matt, Tiny and I. There was standing room only. It was a sell out.

On another front, my Mum was a little shocked to see Tiny wearing an outfit she had made for her. It's pictured above. My Mum said 'But it's pyjamas!' Trust me Mum, too pretty for PJs, all that work is too pretty to be hidden in the darkness. Plus, Tiny digs the whole ensemble, she doesn't want to take it off!

It's Me: Day 10 (The Outsider)

I know, I know, it's not strictly day ten, but I decided to go AWOL. How many pictures of myself can I possibly plaster on my own blog? It felt like way too many. And yet today, I must finish this small project because otherwise it's hanging over my head.

Today my outfit* is dedicated to all the mothers at the Doctor's pre-school. The ones who avert eyes and never say hi.

This is me saying hi to you. How do you like them apples?

* Please note - no stripes or cardies have been harmed in my outfit today. Are you feeling proud? I am.

The Radioactive Child

I'm like some kind of baking zombie at the moment. I don't remember ever making quite so many cakes in such a short period of time. I'm pretending to loathe it, but really, it makes me happy making sweeties. So much icing sugar. So much...colour!

Today I'm whipping up a batch of little cupcakes for all the darlings (and would be thugs and fairies) at the Doctor's pre-school so they can woo him with a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday.

What to do with the leftover icing? I can't just eat it. Or can I?

PS - When should one expect the other mothers at pre-school to make some eye contact with me and say hi? I thought second term they might be able to. Apparently not.