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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I Love You Tonight

Post-it note under my son's pillow before he went to bed

Today I stuck a post-it note under my son’s pillow before he went to bed. Kids look so peaceful when they’re asleep. We say ‘sweet dreams’ and ‘I love you’ to each other every night. I love him when he’s sleeping.

 

Footnote: This was my very first post back on January 1st this year. I don’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed by this post. In reflection, I can’t believe I had so little to say. Like learning to run I guess I had to walk first. A distinct memory is etched in my brain of the very first person to like this post and of how excited I was. That blogger, who has not been seen since, will always hold a special place in my heart. I hope you don’t mind bearing with me as I revert to baby steps while revisiting old posts while my attention is focussed elsewhere.

 

 

A Little I Love You

I love you-just a little bit.

Well maybe just a teeny, tiny smidge more than a little bit. Ok, I really love you a whole lot.

My little fellas give me lots of reasons to love them that bit extra though. little

My eldest can be so kind and helpful to his little brother. Watching him teach my little one about things he’s become knowledgeable about amazes me. My little man is turning 3 this month and although he is not so little anymore he will be my littlest for all eternity.

Loving them a small bit more comes with the territory when they’re unwell. Having an extra long cuddle when they’re tired gives them the additional love they’re seeking.

Grandparents are always a good source of some extra loving. The great thing is they can provide some added love while yours truly takes a temporary sojourn.

In keeping with the little theme today I’m going to cut this short and toddle off a little early.

Share a little love everyone!

Image from: here.

I Love You in French

frenchFrench 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 You. You’re a Star!

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.

star

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.

I Have a Ball Loving You

How much do I love you?

string woolHow long is a piece of string? Twice the length of half the piece of string (apparently).

You can’t measure the love a parent has for their child. Not in any mathematical way. It can’t be measured in money, buckets, with tape measures or calculators. It’s timeless, shapeless and follows no formula. Roman numerals cannot express it and a protractor, compass or scales won’t be of any help either.

Your love for your kids has no definable dimensions-it’s like being tied up in knots. Where’s the beginning and the end?

Maybe it could be measured by how much kids can string us out or by the years that children have their parents’ hearts on a string. Between now and your child cutting those apron strings there’ll probably be times when  you’d like to string ’em up. Sure they’ll happily string along with you now because you control the purse strings. Teaching them to have more than one string to their fiddle or maybe pulling a few strings will hopefully see them have a string of good luck well into adulthood.

For mine the latch string will always be out. They’ll always be welcome as long as they don’t string out their stay.

Thanks for the yarn everyone. Oh, and if you’d like to add anything that can’t be used to measure love, I’ll have a ball reading them all.

I love my boys-no strings attached!

Image from: here.

I Love You Up Hill and Down Dale

hill and dale

I’d climb every mountain-that’s how much I love you.

WARNING: the following contains references to The Sound of Music so if you’re not a fan it’s probably best if you scroll down to the next post. If you are an avid lover of everything related to the Von Trapp’s I’ll apologise now for my attempt at humour.

My boys, husband and I love where we live. We have nature on our doorstep and a view of hills and trees that we try to remember to stop and notice out of the picture windows at the back of our home.

Our hills aren’t alive with the sound of music though. Not unless you count the neighbours across the paddock blaring out, ‘you shook me all night long’ from the truck’s cab when he gets home from work. Then again, we do have kookaburras that frequent our yard, no traffic noise to speak of and the rooster up the hill that Master 2 refers to as the cockle coo.

We don’t sing and dance our way through long grass on hilltops. We race to the top instead and roll down the hill like tumbleweed.

I don’t have any girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes at my humble abode but I do have:

Boys who love digging and playing with trains

Trucks by the boxful and shirts full of stains

Loud little voices and a toddler who clings

These are a few of my favourite things!

And please don’t ask me to sing it. The closest I come to being like Maria is that my middle name is Marie.

Until the sun rises tomorrow: so long, farewell, Aufwiedersehen, goodbye! Luv ya lots.

Image from: here.