Scrapping Kell and Levi
My off the page project for the feature was this paper / photo whimsical mobile for Sienna... it was hard to get good photos of, I wonder how they presented it in the mag? I haven't seen it yet! I also did a photo canvas thingy but forgot to take a photo of it before sending it away, so will photograph it and blog it when I get it back from SC.
This was made my stitching a fabric doily inside a wooden embroidery hoop and using florist wire (white) for the hanging part of it. A sweet, delicate twine for the elements, vintage sheet music to back everything. A couple of plastic cake toppers, a couple of pieces of Cosmo Cricket chipboard, and an old crochet flower.
Number five is alive
Once upon a time Ash was very small...
OK not very small for a baby, but babies by their nature are very small, so it still stands ;) He was born 8lb 14oz / 4kg, somewhere around 9pm on Sunday the 7th August 2005... I'm going by memory so don't quote me on that. Though I am fairly certain it was 9:20-something, I might be wrong. I know we went to the hospital at about 6 when I couldn't cope labouring at home anymore. I've tried to hold out as much as possible with each labour, just because it was nicer at home, though with Cedar's not so much as I needed to get stuff sorted at hospital (but turned out ran out of time anyway as his progressed much faster). Back to Ash.
My sister Hayley would remember, I was in labour all day but you know, progressively. She put on one of my dvds, it was Jamie Cullum live at Blenheim Palace and I used the tune from Jamie's version of 'High and Dry' for the rest of the day and post-labour... it had quite a good rhythm for it, kind of a la de da (going up) and then a da da da (going down, different notes) in a few different ways :) Hayley laughed that she could tell when the pain was worse because the humming got louder and more insistent.
I made a rogan josh curry from scratch in the afternoon. I don't really want to talk about the intense labour, I ended up shaking from shock for awhile after and I didn't feel very looked-after by the people in the room at that point (except Ben, that is). But it was great that we got to come home the next day before lunch! Just a little while after my mum had surprised me by showing up at the hospital, she had flown over, that was so nice :)
Skip to now, and Ash has just turned 5. He is on about the 75th percentile for height and weight, and is super strong. He just interrupted me, coming in from outside, to give me a yellow daisy and tell me "I love you mum", before stomping back outside in his pirate gumboots, doggy in hand. He tells me he loves me at least a dozen times a day, and often says it to Sienna, Ben, the cats, Cedar, etc. He told his cousin Jude a couple of weeks ago "I love you Jude" and Jude replied "Pffft! Weird!". Very funny.
So our big, strong, affectionate, loving and smiley pirate-obsessed boy is 5. He has recently been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, which was both interesting and kind of not-very-surprising. He is in Early Intervention this year already, as well as 4 year old kinder, and he loves both. He starts school next year, and I am hoping Sienna's current teacher (Prep/1 class) who has had Sienna for 2 years will be there next year to teach Ash, as she is lovely and understanding.
Ash is great, he is really endearing and most people can't help but smile at him. He growls when something annoys him and tells us in a gruff voice "That makes me angry!". Which is pretty funny really. He is really helpful, generally, around the house and at putting things in their place and doing as asked. Very independent, he is the easy one in the mornings, getting dressed and getting drinks etc without help or prompting needed. He is a really cool little person.
He thinks his name is spelt with an 'x' in the middle. As in 'x' marks the spot. As he told the shop assistant in Smiggle when we bought a little letter badge there, "I love X". LOL, cool.
OK not very small for a baby, but babies by their nature are very small, so it still stands ;) He was born 8lb 14oz / 4kg, somewhere around 9pm on Sunday the 7th August 2005... I'm going by memory so don't quote me on that. Though I am fairly certain it was 9:20-something, I might be wrong. I know we went to the hospital at about 6 when I couldn't cope labouring at home anymore. I've tried to hold out as much as possible with each labour, just because it was nicer at home, though with Cedar's not so much as I needed to get stuff sorted at hospital (but turned out ran out of time anyway as his progressed much faster). Back to Ash.
My sister Hayley would remember, I was in labour all day but you know, progressively. She put on one of my dvds, it was Jamie Cullum live at Blenheim Palace and I used the tune from Jamie's version of 'High and Dry' for the rest of the day and post-labour... it had quite a good rhythm for it, kind of a la de da (going up) and then a da da da (going down, different notes) in a few different ways :) Hayley laughed that she could tell when the pain was worse because the humming got louder and more insistent.
I made a rogan josh curry from scratch in the afternoon. I don't really want to talk about the intense labour, I ended up shaking from shock for awhile after and I didn't feel very looked-after by the people in the room at that point (except Ben, that is). But it was great that we got to come home the next day before lunch! Just a little while after my mum had surprised me by showing up at the hospital, she had flown over, that was so nice :)
Skip to now, and Ash has just turned 5. He is on about the 75th percentile for height and weight, and is super strong. He just interrupted me, coming in from outside, to give me a yellow daisy and tell me "I love you mum", before stomping back outside in his pirate gumboots, doggy in hand. He tells me he loves me at least a dozen times a day, and often says it to Sienna, Ben, the cats, Cedar, etc. He told his cousin Jude a couple of weeks ago "I love you Jude" and Jude replied "Pffft! Weird!". Very funny.
So our big, strong, affectionate, loving and smiley pirate-obsessed boy is 5. He has recently been diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder, which was both interesting and kind of not-very-surprising. He is in Early Intervention this year already, as well as 4 year old kinder, and he loves both. He starts school next year, and I am hoping Sienna's current teacher (Prep/1 class) who has had Sienna for 2 years will be there next year to teach Ash, as she is lovely and understanding.
Ash is great, he is really endearing and most people can't help but smile at him. He growls when something annoys him and tells us in a gruff voice "That makes me angry!". Which is pretty funny really. He is really helpful, generally, around the house and at putting things in their place and doing as asked. Very independent, he is the easy one in the mornings, getting dressed and getting drinks etc without help or prompting needed. He is a really cool little person.
He thinks his name is spelt with an 'x' in the middle. As in 'x' marks the spot. As he told the shop assistant in Smiggle when we bought a little letter badge there, "I love X". LOL, cool.
Just because it can be hard sometimes, it doesn't mean it's not good
And just because it's good, it doesn't mean it's not hard.
I've been thinking about this for a day or so since reading this blog post by Maxabella, the article she linked to and the thread about it on Mammamia, an email from a dear friend and another friend's rundowns on her busy life as a mum...
I think the sentence from the article which is the most frustrating is "from where I stand motherhood is a cinch." Not because this journalist is enjoying her experience - that is awesome - but the implication that, because it is easy enough for her, that those who do not find it so are inadequate. In particular coming from a first time mum with a comparatively un-demanding 9 month old baby.
Now I get her point, and I personally don't enjoy constant complaints, and I don't like making a drama of things (even things that are by their nature entitled to a bit of drama)... not because doing those things isn't a valid response, just because it doesn't help me, personally, to do that.
However, being able to unload and vent about the challenges is often an essential part of working through the hard parts and enabling one to refocus on the positives, or on productivity... for many things but this is especially the case for mothers who often have so much internal dialogue (because they are constantly surrounded by people but not necessarily adult conversation). With the article that has caused such a passionate response, it is the journalist's apparent dismissal of the varying experiences of mothers and their need to express their difficulties that is offensive.
Realism should include both the good and the hard... and yes, of course motherhood is hard work sometimes. Just as it is entirely worth the hard parts. Just as it is an honour. As it is both just one part of who we are and also our entire being. And just as it is an incredible joy - sometimes. Usually in many moments scattered throughout the day in between all the other stuff, and occasionally a glorious few hours where you can just bathe in the love of your children and of being their mum.
Cedar Laughing from Danielle Quarmby on Vimeo.
I love this quote from Kate's recent blog post on her busy days and how she organises her days, she expresses so well the sentiment that *I think* the journalist was trying to express, but with a tad more realism and without the arrogance...
Kate Mason, mum of 5 (aged 2 months to 5 years. Or thereabouts!) tells us what is true about her days right now, and concludes with this:
"I'm living my dream anyway even during the tricky bits"
And it's good.
I've been thinking about this for a day or so since reading this blog post by Maxabella, the article she linked to and the thread about it on Mammamia, an email from a dear friend and another friend's rundowns on her busy life as a mum...
I think the sentence from the article which is the most frustrating is "from where I stand motherhood is a cinch." Not because this journalist is enjoying her experience - that is awesome - but the implication that, because it is easy enough for her, that those who do not find it so are inadequate. In particular coming from a first time mum with a comparatively un-demanding 9 month old baby.
Now I get her point, and I personally don't enjoy constant complaints, and I don't like making a drama of things (even things that are by their nature entitled to a bit of drama)... not because doing those things isn't a valid response, just because it doesn't help me, personally, to do that.
However, being able to unload and vent about the challenges is often an essential part of working through the hard parts and enabling one to refocus on the positives, or on productivity... for many things but this is especially the case for mothers who often have so much internal dialogue (because they are constantly surrounded by people but not necessarily adult conversation). With the article that has caused such a passionate response, it is the journalist's apparent dismissal of the varying experiences of mothers and their need to express their difficulties that is offensive.
Realism should include both the good and the hard... and yes, of course motherhood is hard work sometimes. Just as it is entirely worth the hard parts. Just as it is an honour. As it is both just one part of who we are and also our entire being. And just as it is an incredible joy - sometimes. Usually in many moments scattered throughout the day in between all the other stuff, and occasionally a glorious few hours where you can just bathe in the love of your children and of being their mum.
Cedar Laughing from Danielle Quarmby on Vimeo.
I love this quote from Kate's recent blog post on her busy days and how she organises her days, she expresses so well the sentiment that *I think* the journalist was trying to express, but with a tad more realism and without the arrogance...
Kate Mason, mum of 5 (aged 2 months to 5 years. Or thereabouts!) tells us what is true about her days right now, and concludes with this:
"I'm living my dream anyway even during the tricky bits"
And it's good.
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