I Love You When I’m Hanging Out The Washing

Pegs used to make I Love YouIt seems like washing day rolls around all too quickly but hanging out your clean clothes reminds me of how much I love you. They are also a reminder of how much you’ve grown and what you’ve been up to (and in to). Even though you’ll make them dirty again soon, I love you.

 

Footnote: This was my second post on my blog. I think the whole thing fitted in the reader without having to click on it. I created this photo when my intention was to have ‘I Love You’ in every post. These early posts were written as if I was speaking to my kids. Somewhere along the line my voice started speaking to my fellow bloggers about my boys instead. I think I also got a little bored of the ‘dear diary’ style of writing I was doing. The photo for this took longer than the post, from memory.

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Rebellious Love

rebellion‘What’s gotten into you today?’

‘Why are you behaving that way?’

‘That’s just plain silly, that is.’

These phrases have passed my lips many times. Normally I’m talking to a kid-my own or one of the many intelligent students that I have met when teaching.

Today, though, these words were aimed at myself.

Have you had a day where there’s just a touch of silly about you? Conformity just not cutting the mustard?

Today was my day.

I taught a class of Year 3’s today at a school that has over 1000 students. After finishing my paid duties for the day I walked with one of the students out of the classroom. Her mum and I have been friends for many years. She’s also a teacher and we hadn’t seen each other for a couple of months.

Her daughter told me that her mum picked her up from the kiss and drop. For those who are unfamiliar with this term- stop car, kiss child, they get out and you drive off. In the afternoons-join cue of cars, drive like a nonagenarian, reach front of cue, child jumps in and then you drive off. No stopping for more than a few seconds. You can’t get out unless you want to be berated by seething parents desperate to un/load their cargo. This procession is overseen by a teacher who directs the flow. Some are very serious about their role and are tyrants. Others are a little more lax and more likened to a traffic cop whose stuck on duty past shift change.

Being as I am a responsible adult I herded my friend’s daughter across the cul-de-sac between cars when they had stopped for the next child to begin their journey homeward bound. Her mum’s car was about 12th in the cue to leave so I had the chance to fit in a 2 minute conversation with her as she rolled around to the pick-up point.

We disposed of pleasantries quickly and did a quick catch up while I was on foot next to her car. Promising to see each other soon, she departed the mayhem.

As I walked past the teacher on duty I was given a stern look and I believe she said something about safety.

‘My apologies,’ I replied without missing a beat.

As I walked with a bit of a swagger to my car, I could not help but smirk. My brain was registering the ‘rebel’ label and it felt good.

I drove past that teacher as I left the teacher’s car park and turned my head so she couldn’t see and poked my tongue out.

Apparently the dutiful, responsible and role-model aspects of my personality had clocked off when the bell went at the end of the day today.

Rebel without a cause, you betcha! I fit that bill today.

The rule maker was the rule breaker today.

I’d love it if you don’t tell my kids though.

Image from: here.

Eyes of Love

elderlyEyes without desire

Hungry for fuel to fill the soul

Embers of a fire

Once burned with passion

Just alive inside.

Looking without seeing

Wishing for a clear view

Blinds drawn across

Unveil the sight

For all to witness.

Visions of a future

Daring all who cross

Bear the burden

See what I feel

Come and love with me.blue eyes

In writing this poem I wasn’t thinking in a specific direction. I had no deep message to convey. Allowing the words to create the journey for my thoughts was the purpose. I would sincerely appreciate if you don’t click the like button and go today. What would give me great satisfaction is knowing what you liked about it, if the words resonated with you or how you interpreted my expression.

Kelly ♥

© 2013 Kelly Hibbert, all rights reserved.

Images from: here and here.

I Love You Like Crazy

crazy

Crazy little thing called love.

Is it possible to love your child too much? How much love is too much? How would you measure it?

 

By the amount of kisses given on cheeks of a slumbering child?

By repeating ‘I love you’ when they drive you wild?

By the lengths you’d go to ensure they’re happy?

By the amount of times you’ve changed a nappy?

By the time it takes to takes to tie a shoelace?

By the distance they run to win a race?

By counting the times you hold hands and skip along?

By the ways you console when something is wrong?

By the energy needed to push kids on a swing?

By the truckload of rhymes that you’ll probably sing?

By the width of your arms just before giving a hug?

By the strings of your heart they’ll be sure to tug?

By measuring the amount of love one heart can give?

By the fullness of a life with kids that you live?

 

Crazy in love.

Image from: here.

From Russia with Love

Love the Russian way.

russia

Since the beginning of this year I have learned with my children how to say ‘I love you’ in several different languages. This was the first time we had tried a language where the written version included symbols/letters I had no idea how to pronounce. We watched a you tube video so we could hear the sounds in each word.  I enjoyed trying to perfect the Russian way of expressing love.

The Russian language fills each syllable with richness and heartfelt meaning. It’s almost as if I can hear Sean Connery speaking them himself to Tatiana Romanova. Er, come to think of it I don’t think any Bond ever whispered those words to his love interest.

Я тебя люблю.

pronounced yah tee-BYAH lyoo-BLYOO

I love you.

From Australia with love.

Image from: here.

Love from the Scruffy Red Monster

Love my monsters.

Since a tender age both of my boys have loved Elmo: the short, red character who talks in 3rd person and remains constantly at age 3 ½.

Elmo has been on Sesame Street since 1972 which makes him older than me (just).

Sesame Street has recently celebrated 43 years on television. I grew up watching it as did my husband and then my eldest did too. I hope my grandchildren get to enjoy the wonder that is Sesame Street.

My eldest celebrated his 3rd birthday a few years back with an Elmo cake painstakingly decorated with the icing tip that would normally be used for grass. This created that perfectly scruffy look that Elmo wears so well.

Now the baton has been passed to my youngest. Sesame Street for him has far greater meaning than just a show on TV. It marks an important time in his schedule at home. It’s on at 12pm here and this marks lunch time for him. If I happen to be out of the room when, ‘can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?’ rings out it’s soon followed by an announcement from yonder that Sesame Street is on. If the TV is off midday passes with no fanfare or parade.

Elmo exists in many forms in our home. We have TMX Elmo who rolls, giggles and then stands himself up again. He can literally ROFL. There’s also plush versions, eating implements, posters, wall stickers, bedding, colouring books, etc.

I have a bit of a soft spot for Elmo and have never questioned his inability to speak in first person. Does this bother you? Are there people not feeling the love for the monster with the infectious giggle? If not an Elmo fan, who is your favourite Sesame Street puppet? Does anyone not allow their children to watch Sesame Street at all?

Monster love lives here.