Sunday mornings.
Rick leaves the house at about quarter past seven. As soon as the sound of the engine fades, another noise inevitably emerges.
The sound of small feet padding their way into the hallway. Then the hesitant knocks on my bedroom door. Then the gentle creak of the door as it slowly swings open, revealing two little figures in the doorway.
Yes, these two.
Looking all cheeky and sheepish, as if they know they’ve woken up too early for mummy’s liking.
Usually I’m tired and grumpy and instruct them to go back to bed. But yesterday was different. I felt cheerful, and couldn’t resist their cute little faces grinning back at me. I told them they could climb into mummy and daddy’s bed if they wanted to. They did so immediately, though it took some negotiation to work out who got to sleep on daddy’s pillow.
As I watched them giggling and chatting in hushed tones so as not to wake Jamie up, I could hardly believe that these two were mine.
They are such great mates, even if they don’t know it yet.
I am so lucky to be their mum.
Thank you to everyone for your amazing response to our announcement. We are incredibly excited, and I’m so happy that you are too!
(Linking up with Lou.)
Here are a few of glimpses of Angus’ 4th birthday party from two weekends ago. It was a sweltering hot day, and we pulled together most of the details at the last minute, but nonetheless, we all had a great deal of fun! Rick organised all the games and basically ran the party, and I would like to say – with the biggest smile on my face – what an amazing job he did! (I’m just disappointed for his sake that we forgot to play ‘Pin the car part on the Land Rover,’ which he’d spent over an hour working on the night before.)
Anyway, due to the pregnancy, I took more of a back seat with the party organisation this time round, but I’m happy I still managed to help with the graphics and decorations. I know I said that my preparations for Jamie’s 1st birthday were last minute, but this was even more so! I literally threw together all the design elements the day before. With so little time, I concentrated on just a few things for maximum impact:
{ The balloon wall }
I got the idea for this balloon wall from Rebecca, who did something similar for Bri and Angela’s recent Blogshop class in New York (you can see it in the background of the photos). I’d emailed her asking about it, and she kindly replied with some simple instructions on how to pull it together.
Basically, all you need are balloons, a sheet of plywood and some 3M Scotch tape. If you prefer a white background, then you can paint your plywood white. Luckily for us, we had a spare white door lying around (as you do), and so I just used that as the backing (you can pick one up from Bunnings – they’re quite inexpensive). Then, all you need to do is to blow up your balloons (thank you, husband) and attach them in a random pattern with the Scotch tape (Rebecca also suggested using thumb tacks but I found that the Scotch tape managed to hold the balloons just fine for an entire day). Try and cover as much of the surface area as you can, and then just lean the plywood or door up against a wall! Voila. Minimum effort. Maximum impact!
I loved this balloon wall because I felt that it was an interesting alternative to having balloons strung up around the place. In terms of colour, I simply chose the three most vibrant colours from the variety pack that Rick had bought. I decided to cluster each colour together, and I loved the effect of it. This balloon wall is definitely something I would do again for future parties.
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It was my friend Jane who first gave me the idea of making photo books about four years ago. She was showing me one that she’d made for her little boy, and I knew straight away that that’s what I wanted to do for Angus and all our other children. In fact, after going home and doing my research into printers and pricing, I decided that I would only make photo books from there on – they would simply replace the photo albums I had been doing prior to that point (more about them in another post).
To me, it made sense to change: photo books would allow me to better showcase the ‘hero shots’ (ie. the photos we loved the most); they took up less room on the bookshelf; it would force me to only print the best photos; each photo book could have as many or as few photos as I wanted; and when you compared the cost of printing a photo book to processing photos at a decent Kodak centre plus the cost of purchasing albums, the extra expense was not ridiculous, especially considering the benefits.
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One of our parishioners gave me this lovely bunch of basil at church on Sunday. I popped it in a glass of water when I got home, and placed it onto our kitchen windowsill. I’ve been looking at it all day today, every time I pop in and out of the kitchen. It’s such a lovely, vibrant green. I love the freshness it adds to the room. One of these days, just maybe, we might start a herb garden of our own.
Last night, Angus pointed out to Rick during bedtime that there were a lot of photos of Cameron at our old house. For someone who is only three and a half, he understands a lot, notices everything and has an amazing memory. He knows that Cameron is a part of our family, even though he’s never met him. During bedtimes with Rick, he’ll tell Rick that he loves Cameron too, along with the rest of the family. He’s a beautiful boy, our Angus.
His comment about the photos of Cameron at our old place got me thinking: why haven’t I put up photos of Cam in our new home? After all, I can count on one hand how many framed photos we have: there’s one of the three boys in our family room; there’s one of Rick and me on our wedding day in the lounge; and there’s one of Angus and Pete with Rick in their room. Why didn’t I include Cameron’s photo somewhere? To think I didn’t even notice till Angus mentioned it. Such a contrast to when he first died, and I was desperate to fill our home with photos of him to help ease the pain.
Still, some things don’t change.
I experience the same stab of sadness when Angus is labelled our “first,” or Pete our “second,” or Jamie our “third.” I notice the empty seat at our dinner table every night. I weep when I read stories of other women whose babies were born sleeping. I continue to wonder what might have been if I’d been induced earlier. I still wish we had all four boys here with us instead of just three.
Tonight, I shall put up a photo of Cameron in our family room.
And I have no doubt Angus will be the first to notice in the morning.
It’s been raining a lot in Sydney this last week. This summer sure has been unusual. I’m hoping that the weather clears up a bit early next week because Angus is starting preschool on Monday and I want it to be a sunny, cheerful day for him! I know – preschool? Where has the time gone?
You know it cannot end well when your three year old wakes you up with the words, “There’s wet egg in our bedroom.”
Sure enough, upon arriving at the scene of the crime, Rick and I shockingly discovered that Angus had not only transported a carton of eggs from the kitchen but he’d also managed to crack every single one onto some sort of surface. There was egg on the carpet, on the skirting boards, on the wall, on Pete’s sheets, on Pete’s sleeping bag and… on Pete’s face.
I dare not even try to imagine what they were trying to do. (Who needs to eat a nice cooked meal for dinner when you can gorge yourself on raw egg in the morning?)
Start of the day? Not so good.
End of the day?
Sitting on the floor of our bedroom, admiring the bright red nail polish on my toes.
Life is indeed colourful – in every single way.
It’s an hour after normal bedtime, and Rick is desperately trying to get through the bedtime routine with books, songs and prayers.
Angus, however, has other things on his mind:
“Daddy, daddy, daddy… You are wearing a black suit and a red flower. And mummy is wearing a white dress. And you are married. It was your wedding. And you are talking to someone. Pa and Nan took the picture off the coffee table and we looked at it. And then we put it back. And Ben (Rick’s best mate and best man) is behind you in the picture. And he has a black suit too, and a red flower too. Daddy, daddy, daddy… I’m really tired.”
And to think we were once worried he would never speak.
You know your spouse is obsessed with Land Rovers if:
- He walks up to every Land Rover he sees on the street and gives it a good look-in.
- He waves to other Land Rover drivers or gives them the thumbs up and then gets upset if they don’t reciprocate.
- He chooses his parking spot based on its proximity to another Land Rover.
- He posts angry comments on the Land Rover Facebook page about the proposed concepts for the new Defender. Repeatedly.
You know it’s serious when:
- Your two year old can identify other Rovers on the road (“That’s a little bit like our car.”).
- He also tells you that his “favourite toy is a Land Rover.”
- You start waving at other Land Rover drivers too, without even knowing it. (If this has happened to you too, please contact me and tell me I’m not alone. I beg you.)
Despite my tendency to poke fun at my dear husband, I must confess that I’ve actually become quite fond of our Land Rover Discovery. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a pain and a half to get in and out of for a short Asian female like myself, but I genuinely enjoy driving it (though possibly not parking it) and we really do have a lot of fun in it.
Like when we drove to the middle of nowhere back in July, disembarked and spent our family time exploring a little known fire trail. It was completely spontaneous, unplanned and almost uneventful, but it was somehow just lots of fun. (Plus, the boot of our Discovery seriously does lend itself to being the best portable nappy changing table ever, which is handy when you have three kids in nappies.)
What car is your better half obsessed with?
Today I am very tired.
So tired that all I had energy for this morning was to sit on the couch with Jamie on my lap as I watched Angus and Pete systematically take out all their toys from their hiding places (okay, slight exaggeration, but it sure looked like all the toys were out and partying).
Occasionally I tried to interact with them, and no, I didn’t forget to feed them, but mostly I was Zombie Mummy. Never heard of that term before? Look it up. You’ll see my photo.
Currently they are all asleep and Zombie Mummy here is just hoping that maybe they will all remain in said state until their Super Dad returns home from his conference and dons his super hero cape once more.
Anyway, these photos were snapped back in summer earlier this year. It was after our lunch at the Awaba cafe in Balmoral, and Angus had wanted to play on the beach. So Rick rolled up his pants and led him onto the sand and out towards the water while Pete and I watched on from a bench (little Jamie was still in utero).
I love seeing Rick and Angus together like this. Theirs is a special and unique bond that can never be broken.
Yesterday morning as I was drying my hair, Angus sat quietly on our bed and watched me.
As I packed away the hair dryer and turned around to look at him, he said, “Your hair is beautiful, mummy.”
We then lay on the bed side by side for some time as he held my hair in his hand.
“I’m playing with your hair, mummy.”
“Yes you are, little man.”
Such are the moments in the day that make me smile – both inside and out.
Is there anything more beautiful than being a mum?
