On Being the Aunty

Approximately 100% of my time is taken up with being a mum - doing mum stuff and thinking about mum stuff and frantically grabbing at moments of ‘me’ so that I can try to be a slightly less shouty and frazzled mum when I’m doing and thinking about the mum stuff.

But before I was a mum, I was something entirely different - something entirely lovely. Before I was a mum, I was an aunty.

I was still a teenager when I became an aunty the first time. My brother and his girlfriend became parents to an adorable baby girl who, in the rare moments I spent time with her, I just wanted to dress up like a doll and play mummies with. That little girl was only as old as my Lola is now when she lost both her parents. It’s a long and complicated and terribly sad tale that one day I may share, or perhaps not. But for all of its sadness, it has a happy enough ending because, despite the odds, that tiny girl has grown into a beautiful and smart young woman who turns 21 tomorrow. There were times when I wasn’t sure if she, or any of us, would make it. And I couldn’t be prouder of where she’s come from and who she’s become.

I didn’t spend a huge amount of time with her as she was growing up, largely due to distance and circumstance, so when my big sister had her first baby, another beautiful girl, many years later, it was like I became an aunty for the first time all over again. I was in the room when this baby was born, and it was a life-changing moment for me, one of the most profound things I had experienced to date - watching on as my sister’s writhings and gaspings transformed into this perfect little creature.

I was besotted by her. I couldn’t get enough. I looked for excuses to pop over for a visit. I grabbed at babysitting opportunities. I showed photos of her to people at work, for godsakes! It was in her that my desire to be a mum was born.

That little girl is now on the cusp of her teenage years. Right now she’s in Italy competing with the Australian national children’s ski squad. She’s gonna be a champion, that one.

A couple of weeks ago I was tidying up, trying to sort through and rearrange some of the toys and play stuff that clogs our house. As I folded the dolls’ blankets and clothes, most of them hand-me-downs from my almost-teenage niece, I felt a bit wistful. It won’t be too long before my own girls will have outgrown all of this stuff. The blink of an eye.

I’m not as good at being an aunty since I became a mum but I’m glad I got the opportunity before my own kids came and snaffled that little 100% of me. Five nephews have followed those two girls, gorgeous and clever boys all of them. But the girls have a special place in my heart. They both made me an aunty for the first time.

(Happy 21st birthday, Ahnika. It's a really big deal.)

First Day Nerves

There was a rumour going around that I'd been looking forward to this day. After three years and six days of twin-wrangling, I felt I deserved a couple of days a week to myself. I'd had the day on the calendar for months, and have been planning a whole lot of life to coincide nicely with it and the weeks to follow.

We've had a month of milestones and major life happenings for the small people in this house. First days, birthdays, and now this. I expected to feel a pang. I didn't anticipate the kick-to-the-stomach smack of emotion that I got as I drove away. They were excited, kissed me goodbye happily, didn't look back. I edged away feeling unexpectedly bewildered. My babies.

And I returned home, looked about vacantly and was suddenly overcome with exhaustion. A bone-tired exhalation and collapse.

So busy are we clearing the path and smoothing things over for the big stuff in their lives, we forget that they're the big stuff in our lives too.

My babies.

(They had a wonderful day, were dancing in a circle at pick-up time, and we had a hard time convincing them to come home. Tonight I feel OK again. And now I'm going to sleep.)

On the Last Day

We have been focusing so much of our energy on next year's momentous 'first' - big school - that I almost forgot the significance of today, her last day of preschool. She's been spending part of her week in some form of day care or preschool for three years, and today it is over, complete. She has been a little emotional. Make that a lot emotional. Wrapped up in all the end-of-year excitement, the Christmas tree cookies and cards from her little pals and presents for the teachers, has come the slow realisation, for her and for me, that time is a-rolling on and we are powerless to stop it. When she expressed her sadness today, I crossed my fingers behind my back and told her she could choose another year of preschool if she really wanted it. And she said no without hesitation. She's opting for the unknown, the adventure, the big wide world. Because without even realising it, she knows that's the right choice, and it's what she wants.

Homemade rhubarb chutney for the teachers suggests we are far more organised and crafty at this end of the year than we really are. It is chaos around here.

And I noticed that my last post was my 500th. That's quite significant. Milestones all round.

Sour and Sweet

::Sour::

Sick babes, babes with fevers, babes coughing and vomiting, babes waking relentlessly through the night, but worst of all, all of this looking like getting in the way of a very special celebration.

::Sweet::

The fog lifting, temperatures restored to normal, and a five-star hotel room booked at the very last minute.

::Sour::

A little girl crying as we dropped her and her sisters at the grandparents' house - "I don't want you to go."

::Sweet:: 

Five seconds later, skipping down the street, sans children, to catch a train into the city.

Checking into our lovely hotel room. 

Knitting. In bed. Whilst watching 'Downton Abbey' on DVD. In the afternoon!!!

Dinner at an amazing Malaysian restaurant in Chinatown.

Realising, with a brief swoon of romance, the synchronicity - we'd honeymooned in Malaysia. Awwww.

::Sour::

Waking at 6:30am all of our own accord, without any assistance from small people.

::Sweet::

Breakfast buffet.

::Sour::

Checkout.

::Sweet::

The reunion.

::Sour::

The reunion.

::Sweet::

"I missed you, Mama. Did you have a nice university?"

Weren't we cute back then? Look how young we are, and how well-rested. Happy 'university', my love xx

Small Steps

Which little monkey finally took her first steps this morning - five of them across the kitchen floor?

I wonder...

1+1=1

Happy birthday, pair xx

Pearly Whites

She was known as Twin A for 37 weeks and, as expected, she was first born. Alas, for the 11.5 months since, Pearl's younger sister has been pipping her at the post with absolutely every baby milestone. Stella smiled first, rolled first, sat first, talked first, crawled first, pulled herself to standing first and is on track to walk first, and she's always been bigger, longer and chubbier.

But today, this one got in first for a change, finally cutting a tooth. Good on you, little one. Makes this mummy's heart swell with pride.