I love to hold your hands.
We hold hands when we cross the road. In the supermarket I hold your hand so you don’t take anything off the shelf and inadvertently drop it on the floor. While walking to school we hold each other’s hands so you stay close and don’t get too far ahead.
Sometimes I feel like an octopus with two tentacles suctioned on to objects. Those objects can be sticky, sweaty or just plain dirty. But I made them and I love your podgy little digits interlaced with mine (we’ll just be sure to wash before dinner). When my hands are that full of bags, drink bottles and other paraphernalia all I can offer you is my pinky which you grasp like the last lollipop left in the jar.
On weekends we divide and conquer. You both love to swap between your dad and I, taking turns to hold onto my daintier version or dad’s masculine alternative. You adore holding onto one of each and swinging through the air after we count 1, 2, 3. Wee! Double hand holding with one of us for whizzies is also an all-time-favourite. I love to see you boys holding hands with each other. Watching my eldest guide his sibling makes me sigh and smile.
When you want to run ahead I have that fleeting feeling of what it will be like when you no longer want or need to have your hand held in mine. Like the lover who leaves on the train while her one true love stands on the platform holding each other’s hand through the open window until the train slowly chugs out of the station. Their fingers slowly slip away from each other in slow motion.
Back to reality and of course there’s the hand tugging and trying to pull away. There’s the refusal and the hiding of hands behind your back, like I can’t reach them back there. The whinging and whining for me to hold your hand as we go up a flight of stairs when I’m already half way up and you’re still on the bottom step should not bother me. The day will come when I’ll be at the bottom asking for your hand.
I don’t know what I would do if I had more children than hands. If you’d like to lend a helping hand and let me know how you deal with the hand-holding scenario with 3+ children I’d love to hear all about it.
I’d love to hold your hands forever.
Image from: here.
I love all of you-even the bits and pieces.
When it feels like everything is falling apart at the seams love can put anything back together. I don’t know if the same can be said for the excavator with the plastic arm that was bought for $2. Its life is probably on borrowed time. There’s only a certain amount of superglue that can be put on a piece of plastic that is 2mm wide.
Lucky we don’t need superglue to put our boys back together sometimes (although it is used in hospitals instead of stitches when appropriate)! I think we’d need a long-haul liquid transprort truck to deliver it to our house if that were the case. Lucky for Transformer bandaids (plasters) or a strategically placed kiss and a lot of love to make it better. If it’s in between minute and need-to-go-to-the-hospital-right-now we offer to cut it off. That way it won’t hurt anymore, right?
The same can’t be said for my foot when it has a clandestine meeting with a piece of discarded lego that has hunkered down under a dropped blanket. I think I’ll bear the scars of trodden on items for the rest of my years. As for all the other bits and pieces that accumulate in between the sofa cushions, under the sofa and behind the sofa I’d love a dollar for every single one I pick up.
We do not have an Ikea showroom home but we have a place for everything and everything belongs in its place. We have drawers and zip-lock bags, containers and boxes. The one thing that drives me the most nuts of all:one puzzle piece missing from a box and not realising until you can’t find that last piece to complete the darn thing.
I guess it’s fortunate really that kids don’t come apart. They probably would actually leave their brain behind if that were the case. Even though they are not made to be stored compactly in a compartment they can certainly be a human puzzle that you can’t find that annoying, frustrating and most important missing piece to.
Lucky I love a challenge. Maybe I’ll go check that puzzle piece-eating sofa.
Love ya to bits, munchkins.
Image courtesy of Stuart Miles from: here.
Anytime, anywhere, anyhow.
Anywhere you go, my love will follow you.
Anytime you need a shoulder, please lean on mine.
Anything you need, just ask.
There isn’t anyone who loves you more than I do.
I’ll love you in anyplace-first, second or last.
My heart is full of love for you. Anymore and it will overflow.
That’s a known fact, anyhow!
Anyway you look at it, I love you.
Oh for the love of playgrounds!
A visit to the local playground affords parents the chance to do many things.
When I’m at any playground with my two children I always try and ensure I do the following things:
- be as excited about getting there as they are and remain enthusiastic throughout our time there
- play with them. They might think I’m silly but it’s great for them to see adults (Mum, Dad, Nan, Grandpa, etc) acting like a big kid
- help them with anything they’re not quite able to do on their own yet.
- observe them and their interactions with each other and children they don’t know
- I try to keep my phone in my bag unless it’s a call from my husband-work and everyone else can wait.
We visit a playground close to home at least once a week. We also frequent the school playground at least one afternoon after the bell goes. On weekends we will hunt down a new playground for the kids to explore. It’s pretty awesome to see their little eyes light up when we pull up at one we’ve never been to before especially if we don’t forewarn them.
A new playground to my kids is the equivalent of a trip to the lolly shop. Getting let loose to run, jump, slide, climb, crawl and swing causes a lot less cavaties and there’s no sugar high at the end of our visit. If anything they’ve burned off some excess energy that may have turned into a tantrum or foot stomping argument later on.
My nearest and dearest took mine to the playground this afternoon. I missed this outing but I used the time to do this post without interruptions. It’s great for Dad to share some time with his two boys. He even took our dog as the dog park is right next door. Quite frankly, I think he had an ulterior motive because he is a little tired of ‘watching’ me carry my laptop around like it’s a newborn. So mission accomplished on all fronts today and brownie points to hubby.
I’ll catch you at the playground of love tomorrow.
Image from: here.
You are my shadow and I love you.
There’s only one small problem with that. You afford me little to no privacy. You’re never quiet and always in constant motion even if I’d like to stop just for a moment.
Shadowing is something I have had to get used to. It won’t last forever so I’ll remain grateful that you always show an interest in what I’m doing. Yes, even when I go to toilet and you rest your head on my lap.
I actually worry now when my shadow slips away from me. He is fast and ingenious knowing that the window of opportunity to create havoc is only open for a limited time. My shadow will try and sneak snacks from the cupboard, use scissors to cut something up into infinitesimal pieces or disappear without out a trace leaving me to comb the house and cajole him into rejoining me.
When night falls and it’s time to hit the hay, my shadow loves me making shadow puppets on the wall. The rabbit and the duck are favourites right now. As long as he doesn’t ask me to try and do a dinosaur we’ll be ok.
My shadow will eventually be content to cast his own shadow and that’ll leave me humming:
Me and my shadow
Strolling down the avenue
Oh, me and my shadow
Not a soul to tell our troubles to
And when it’s twelve o’clock we climb the stairs
We never knock ’cause nobody’s there
Just me and my shadow
All alone and feeling blue
I love my little shadow.
Image from: here.
French was on the language menu for my eldest today.
It was quite hot so we spent the better part of it inside. We did numerous jobs interspersed with fun activities. My daily post is always at the back of my mind and I was contemplating what to write today when I decided that my son and I could use the laptop for something other than blogging or playing games.
I thought it might be interesting to learn ‘I love you’ in another language. I chose French for obvious reasons-it’s the language of love and Paris is supposed to be one of the most love-filled cities in the world. We’ve already covered German so I thought we wouldn’t travel too far from there.
We looked at where France is on an interactive globe we have here at home. We listened to the pronunciation and wrote it down once we’d looked it up on Google. We practised drawing heart shapes and then coloured them in. We used it in conversation throughout the day instead of our customary ‘I love you’s’.
It was fairly basic stuff but he really seemed to enjoy it. I enjoyed it too-connecting with my No. 1 today and learning something together.
Un grand ‘baiser français de air sur les deux joues de moi à vous (A big French ‘mwah’ air kiss on both cheeks from me to you).
Je T’aime my beautiful boy.
Image from: here.
I love gazing at the stars with the kids.
It feels like forever since we’ve had the chance to do so. The kids are normally off in dreamland after being sprinkled with cosmic dust before the stars begin to twinkle. It’s daylight savings time here for another month before the sun will start to set earlier. Maybe then we’ll have a chance to put the rug out on the lawn and stare at the Milky Way. We love watching for shooting stars, finding the saucepan and the Southern Cross and talking about the galaxy and constellations.
On another tangent completely, when we arrived at school this morning my son, who is in reception, found out he was to be the ‘star of the day.’ It’s his first turn this year and being the star carries with it a great deal of responsibility and privilege. The ‘star’ also has a helper who assists them with their duties. The ‘star of the day’ may as well be called ‘teacher’s dogsbody’ or ‘slave’ but to my son he was as close to feeling like the master of the universe as he ever will. His little chest puffed up with pride and it’s the first time this year I’ve had to ask for a kiss and hug before I leave.
In the end I think it’s all about perspective. He’s a star if only for a day in the classroom but he’ll always be a star to me. He’s the brightest star shining in my galaxy. I’m there to make sure he understands that and I hope one day he’ll hold me in the same regard.
Reach up my twinkle, twinkle, little star. Remember I love you even if you can’t quite reach them.
When was the last time you stargazed? Too long? Maybe you can tonight when the moon orbits into your part of the world.
Image from: here.