weekending

this weekend I...

• came to terms with the fact that the washing fairy doesn't exist
• wondered why our summer has, so far, been pretty wintry
• got angry at the lego
• made 'Christmas Lights' wrapping paper with Che (painted dots on paper)
• ate brie on baguette for lunch
• discovered that a 21-month-old friend of mine has more coordination that I'll ever have
• wrote a budget for Christmas (the numbers aren't adding up!)
• realised that one tidy room in the house is good enough
• taught a pre-natal class and missed the rubbing of my pregnant belly
• congratulated myself for mentally repeating "do not get attached" when Poet slept 12 hours last week
• suddenly remembered what it's like to have a baby who feeds all. night. long
• had an afternoon nap
• relished in the sipping of a cappuccino
• sat under a willow tree and watched children run around the vegie garden
• kissed Poet's incredibly chubby and squeezable cheeks
• admired my new vintage basket
• cuddled with Che and read Christmas stories
• took photos with Daniel and later, compared notes on composition, lines and lenses.
• decided that an early night would probably be best

I have twenty teeth

I'll admit that I was suffering from motherguilt because I had never taken Che to the dentist. Motherguilt has incredible power; it makes me ponder my choices, it keeps me on my toes. Sometimes it makes me really organised, organised enough to make an appointment with the dentist and keep it. Daniel and I had been talking about the dentist with Che quite regularly - how important it is to get check-ups to ensure your teeth stay strong and healthy. His one question was: "After we go to the dentist, can we get ice-cream?" Our response: "Ice-cream goes against everything the dentist stands for."

I was a little apprehensive and envisioned a writhing, unhappy three-year-old clenching his teeth together. The book in the reception area helped - the story of a young boy who opens his mouth wide so the dentist can count all his teeth! As soon as Che hopped on that mechanical chair his mouth was open - he was eager and waiting. I was pleasantly in awe. He has twenty teeth, thinks the cleaning paste is 'yucky' and only had trouble keeping his mouth open when he was giggling so hard the dentist has to take the utensils out of his mouth.

I squeezed a check-up in straight after - still no fillings! But...I was asked, politely, if I tend to clench my teeth sometimes. "It's just that there's a bit of wear on the front teeth," she explained to me. I was lying there, thinking about all those times where as a mum I get so frustrated that I clench - and hard. "Yes," I admitted. "I do...and how bad is that - for my teeth and my parenting." Oh motherguilt, you're still there, even after the dentist.

fear and love

I've decided to stop teaching my Sunday morning hatha class because, well, sometimes "I" need to be priority. I may be old fashioned in thinking that Sunday is rest day, but so be it. Sundays are now reserved for us and all the things we want to do. Like pancakes with lots of lemon and sugar. Late morning reading sessions in front of the heater. Or exploring the parts of this area that we hardly ever venture to. Like Bouddi National Park, a pretty spectacular part of this region.

We walked through bush to get to Little Beach on Sunday and spent a couple of hours soaking up sun (hence I gained a splattering of freckles across my cheeks). Within 10minutes Che's pants were soaking wet and he frolicked happily between rocks and wave foam. I spent a good hour plucking him from the water - the swell was strong and he has absolutely no fear.

Fear is an interesting part of being a parent. I have no problem with admitting that I can be pretty fearful sometimes. I would love to be that girl that throws caution to the wind but I've come to accept that I'm not. I like rhythm, I like to know what's coming next, I like to know that my child is not going to crack his head open on a rock. Perhaps it's a Mum thing. I know Daniel is confident to just let Che be, no matter where we are. He stands back and watches without flinching. I sure don't want to let fear rule my life. I'm aware of it and aiming to embrace the love instead.

These Morcheeba lyrics always travel around in my mind:

"Fear can stop you loving
Love can stop your fear
Fear can stop you loving
But it's not always that clear" from "Fear and Love"

the space he needs

I like the process of looking over the day through photographs. Of seeing things so easily missed by the busy wandering eyes of a muma. Another day and another challenging toddler. But just now looking over these glimpses of the last few days I realise that he needs space. He's happiest with his tiny happy foraging bag and the wide berth of the beach. Today I watched as he climbed over all the rocks with the agility and, might I say grace, of a boy. I didn't have to remind him to 'watch out for...' instead I kept my mouth shut and just observed. The beauty of the observer. He found a 'road of shells' and chased the seagulls and nattered to himself about his findings. He spent his time in his world without the need for me to be right there beside him.

In his stepping away I am noticing his independence and his wild and ever-so-wondrous imagination. The look on his face as he contemplates and discovers. It's hard for me to step away because I've been right there beside him for ever now. When I ask him to pack up because it's time to go, when I rush those little legs along because we're running a bit late, when I guide him into my day...that's when the challenge begins.

And so these spaces of time at the beach or at the park need to be longer and more frequent. It's time for me to change our days a bit, create a different space for him. Where he has the time to do things that he wants to do, outside in the warmth of the sun. And I'll watch. And smile.

A friend of mine told me that her little boy inspired so much of her soul searching. Indeed, that is my journey at the moment.

the river, it flows by itself

Ever since Anna attended one of my birth workshops with her hubbie and full-belly in tow, we have enjoyed a constant conversation over email. Last week I sent her a quick reply and two of the four sentences went like this:

"I have had the most challenging morning with my determined toddler.

Will write a longer email soon."

Anna wrote me this morning and said she thought that because I never write about toddler craziness and antics she presumed they never happen in my house. And then she reminded me of this post I wrote. A post that I needed to read again.

While I reflect on the growth, joy and love in this space please don't ever think that it's all bliss and incense in my life. It's not and I don't ever expect it to be. The last few weeks have been particularly challenging because of the change recently mentioned. I've been a little nervous and stressed and I think it's infiltrated into our family life. At the same time Ché is gaining such wonderful independence and it was only today when I looked at the picture I took of him that it all made sense. Like I have been struggling with my role as muma, partner, yoga teacher, professional writer he is contemplating much bigger things. I'm sure, sub-consciously he is wondering whether he is a baby or a big boy. I can see it in this photo.

He is regularly explaining to me that he is a big boy and yet he's spending more time in our bed at night than he has in months. He wants to do everything himself and yet there are times when he wants nothing more than to be snuggled, cuddled and kissed.

It is human nature to always look forward; to plan, prepare, think about tomorrow. And yet the essence of yoga is to be in the present - right here, in the now. Yesterday in my pre-natal class there was one girl so close to birthing her baby and I could tell how challenged she was by time. "I'm counting down the days," she said. But she is only 38 weeks and perhaps, if her baby decides, she could be pregnant for another month. I reminded her of how precious it is to be one with her baby because once the cord is cut, the oness and wholeness is gone. I reminded her to find peace in her body, breath and baby. To find joy in the present. In today.

I have been getting quite stressed and upset by Ché's tantrums and determination and yet I think it's him just being overwhelmed by his world. I have noticed whenever we walk somewhere that I am thinking about the destination and he is consumed by the cracks in the pavement, the trail of ants in his wake, the pebbles under the tree. His world is the minutiae even though he calls himself a 'big boy'. I have to remember that.

I love this quote:

"Don't push the river, it flows by itself."

Thanks for all your well-wishes re. my new job. Result? It was exciting, inspiring and wonderful. I feel like I've fallen on my feet.