Down with the kids

Nappy Cake - gift for a new baby

I don’t usually do craft posts - mainly because there are so many great craft blogs out there already! I’m making an exception for the nappy cake - because it is such a great gift idea, for friends with a new baby.

You need:

65 (or so) disposable nappies

85 (or so) elastic bands

Ribbon to trim (blue or pink)

Lollies (lolly pops, snakes, marshmallows work well)

A round plate (about 30 cm or 12 inches in diameter)

8 (or so) wooden skewers or disposable chopsticks

To make :

Roll all the nappies into cylinders and secure them with an elastic band.

Group them together in 5 or 3’s and secure the bunch with an elastic band. Bunch a number of these together to form the bottom layer of the cake. Wrap the layer with decorative ribbon. Do the same with a smaller number to make the next layer, push a skewer or chopstick between the 2 layers to vertically secure the cake. Keep building, I generally make 4 layers.

Once the structure is together, place lollies in the crevices of the nappies. Big Sis and Little Bro love helping with the cake and this is (of course) their favorite part! It makes an especially good gift for a household with an older child - I found lolly pops can be great distractions when getting the breastfeeding of the new baby underway!

The only thing you need to check is that the new mum is using disposables - otherwise it can be a faux pas. Thinking about it - I’m sure you could do a variation with cloth nappies, has anyone come across a cloth version? If you have please leave a comment.

It’s such a great gift - as decorative as a bunch of flowers but much more useful!

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Questions!

I think it’s a factor of both her age and personality, but Big Sis asks lots of questions. Generally, these range from the biological to the metaphysical. Here is a sample from the last 24 hours:

• What do muscles look like?
• Where does the wind come from?
• What is skin for?
• Where were all the people when there were dinosaurs?
• Is my brain round?
• What happens if you mix purple and green?
• What makes you grow old?
• What’s this bone called (holding a random part of the body)?
• Why do babies come out of bottoms?
• What is your elbow for?
• What does Friday look like?
• Will we live forever?

The last one in particular gets asked about 10 times every day. It appears that I’m not giving her the answer she is looking for - and she keeps trying, looking for a discrepancy.

My answer goes along these lines :

“(Begins with an inward sigh) - Well honey, we will all die one day. But, probably not until we are really, really old which is a long time away - so you don’t have to worry about it now!”

She goes quiet and mulls this over, only to raise it again a few hours later.

Today it was somewhat different. Big Sis, out of the blue, stated quite clearly that:

“We will live forever, Daddy said so!”

I immediately called DSO at work and he confirmed that upon the 5th asking last Sunday, when he had been trying to get something done (put up some shelves I think - please see post about jobs list), he had responded in exasperation, with:

“Yes, Yes honey - whatever!”

I went back to Big Sis and explained that Daddy was rethinking his position and that they would discuss it further tonight. She immediately came back with her own solution:

“Okay Mummy, this is what happens - we live forever and ever and ever, and then, after that, we die!”

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Don’t read this if you love Bratz dolls

Every time one of my kids has a birthday I visit one of the major toy retailers and go through the same process. I wander the endless aisles becoming more and more confused and dazed. My feelings move from bewilderment, to frustration and finally to rage!

So much plastic, such high price tags! I end up leaving, purchasing nothing and find myself at our local educational toy shop - browsing beautifully crafted toys, designed to encourage a child’s imagination, and built to last.

I just returned from shopping for Big Sis’ birthday and it was no different! The word that kept springing to mind as I worked myself into a fury was “cynical”. Yes, the toys were cynical - like some kind of parody of childhood, put together with the cheapest materials and without care, in the cheapest labor markets available. I got as far as the Bratz shelf before I’d had enough.

I should state here, for the record, that I am not a Barbie hater. I preferred the Malibu Stacey designed by Lisa Simpson, but I don’t think it matters that much. Kids are far to smart to take their role model from one plastic doll. However, those Bratz dolls, those heinous little tarts, they are another story!

Gazing at the shelf I almost expected to see a tiny little cocaine mirror and purse, what’s next, a tiny pink Ferrari with a little police officers to arrest the party girl for DUI? An attorney dressed for court to bribe her out of prison? These dolls resemble the kinds of kids I don’t want Big Sis hanging out with in High School, so why give her the plastic versions to play with as a preschooler?

Bratz is not just designed to ignite the consumerist juices of the average 4 year old (though clever accessories and major marketing budget assure this), they themselves physically represent the little consumers the marketers hope our kids will grow into. Kids get to role play empty, meaningless, sad lives with lots of bling, lip gloss and clothes. So its double jeopardy, get your kids addicted to collecting all this plastic for ugly little dolls. The ugly little dolls themselves parodying the real behaviour of lots of ugly adults in our post modernist, consumerist world!

So what did I buy in the educational toy shop? An old fashioned flower press. Big Sis loves picking flowers and with Spring and the new baby just around the corner I have these mental fantasies of sitting on a large picnic rug, baby at my breast, Little Bro pottering nearby as Big Sis and I press flowers and discuss all that is natural and magical.

The truth is, educational toyshops fire my imagination! Then again, it could be the pregnancy hormones! But what’s wrong with that - Big Sis doesn’t know who Bratz is yet - and I’m not going to be the one to introduce them!

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Snow is cold

Big Sis knows lots of stuff. She has the memory of a small elephant and tucks away fact and fiction at an alarming rate! She remembers everything she sees on tv, in the street, around the house and of course from her extensive library of preschool literature!

However, information isn’t the same as experience, and as she has only lived in the world for (almost) 4 short years there is a big gap between what she knows and what she understands!

On the weekend we took the kids up into the mountains to see snow. Last time we attempted a “snow play” Little Bro was in my tummy - so the family was pretty excited, it’s been a long time between snowballs!

Big Sis had been researching extensively all week and knew a lot about snow, how and where it occurs, its major properties and what people do around it! I predicted that despite this extensive knowledge there would be at least 2 points that in the reality of experience would cause her some consternation, and I was not disappointed. The points were:

1. it takes a long time to get to the snow; and

2. snow is cold.

The drive seemed to last an eternity for 2 excited kids and no discussion or explanation helped them manage their emotions. By the end of the hour and a half drive they were in absolute despair of ever reaching their destination! Little Bro was actually whimpering!

The next challenge was actually getting everyone dressed in their layers of mismatched clothing. We were fully decked out in the gear a family wears when they don’t usually get to the snow. These included layers of tops, gumboots with 3 pairs of socks and over-sized raincoats with hand me down mittens that don’t really fit!

Despite claiming to understand that snow is cold - Little Sis thought we were over reacting and insisted on removing her mittens as soon as she was out of the car. She then cried in anguish for the rest of the visit because - “my hands are so cold! ”

Building the snowman was also a bit of a challenge because the snow was harder than imagined and wouldn’t form nice round clumps like the snowmen we have been seeing in books! Big Sis found the over-sized mittens hampered her artistic endeavours, but guess what, if she took them off - snow is cold!

We lasted an hour before we struggled down the slippery path to the car park with both children crying. Little Bro had learned some new vocab - and was enunciating clearly between sobs, “I’m cold” and “No No No Snow” !

Big Sis’ frustration at this point was being channeled at the recently experienced fact that - “Snow is slippery!”. I think I saw a bystander laugh as I calmly explained to her it is indeed that property that makes snow so much fun, thus skiing, snow boarding and tobogganing!

Once back in the car, warmed up and eating bananas the kids moods dramatically improved. And don’t get me wrong - DSO and I were quite pleased with the day. We got some photos, no one was injured and now the kids understood a few things about snow which would make the next trip much easier. A good day of parenting we thought to ourselves, and Big Sis confirmed this on the way down the mountain when she considered the morning and said:

“I love snow, can we come back again?”

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These boots

For my last birthday DSO bought me one of my favorite presents ever - a pair of custom made cowgirl boots! As I’ve raised before I’m quite self conscious about being pegged an exhausted, harassed housewife with 2 small children - and another on the way! My cowgirl boots send exactly the right message to that (not always) unspoken criticism.

Confident in my boots I stride into Kinder with a toddler on my hip, Big Sis in my wake and my belly bulging . I feel like Angelina Jolie - minus the United Colours of Benneton aspect!

I feel good just pulling them on in the morning, often quoting Nicholas Cage in Wild At Heart to myself (please forgive me David Lynch if I’ve misremembered the words):

“These snakeskin boots are a sign of my individuality and right to personal freedom!”

My advice to all pregnant woman out there, particularly those who may feel judged by quick successive pregnancies or number of children, get yourself a signature piece of clothing that says - you may think I’m a suburban housewife, but I’m actually cool beyond your wildest dreams !

The only issue is that as my belly grows Big Sis has to help me get them off when I get home, it’s a bit undignified, but nobody sees that bit!

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Going to Paris and falling in love

I’ve used this quote about the magic of childhood before, but it’s a favorite;

“For a child, every day is like going to Paris and falling in love for the first time”.

I was reminded of it over the weekend, when we took up Big Sis’ excellent suggestion and went for a ride on public transport.

The whole family boarded a tram into the city, with no plan in mind other than - go into town and see what was happening! The kids loved it, I mean really loved it. It made me remember how as a kid something can be so exciting for you, but mundane for the adult world!

Little Bro shouted “Wheeee” every time the tram accelerated from a stop and watched everything outside the window with earnest interest, calling out observations on the top of his voice - “car”, “truck”, “bubba pram”, “tree”!

Big Sis saw the inside of the tram as the main event and enjoyed the way people got on and off, so there was always a fresh person nearby with whom to strike up a conversation! She became quite practiced at the art of small talk and usually managed to get out her name, age, birthday and favorite colour. A few times I stopped her as she gave out her full name and address to total strangers but I find ’stranger danger’ hard to explain to a 3 year old. The way she sees it, if they are sitting that close, they can’t really be strangers!

There was lots of fun to be had in the city, an encounter with the monsters pictured above, a busker who sang songs with his dog (poor Dog - something else you don’t do according to Big Sis) and even lunch in Chinatown!

But somehow nothing compared to the public transport ride - the kids were elated when we once again boarded the number 196 tram and traveled back home from whence we came! Big Sis extracted a promise that next weekend we will ride a train. DSO and I are determined to enjoy these simple tastes while they last - its certainly cheaper than flying to Paris!

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Global Moms interview

I was recently interviewed by Lori over at Fun Play Dates as part of a series called Global Moms. It’s a great idea, interviewing mums from around the world about raising their kids. Check it out!

While your there have a look around the site - its a great resource encouraging active and creative play for kids! I love the internet for sharing these kinds of ideas - a mum sitting at her computer on the other side of the world can inspire me to set up a great game for Big Sis and Little Bro, or save my sanity on a rainy afternoon!

Ah Mr Internet, you are my friend!

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100 years old and counting

I’m in Week 30 of my pregnancy, I awoke this morning and said to DSO - “I feel like I’m 100 years old!” In retrospect this was a bit of an exaggeration, I think 85 years old is more accurate!

What do I mean?

1. I have trouble getting out of a chair if I have been sitting for a while.

2. I sleep lightly all night, waking frequently and will talk at length about this should anyone ask that seemingly innocent question - “How are you?”.

3. Ironically, given 2 above, I want to sleep all day.

4. I have to roll out of bed in the morning, and then stand there for a few minutes reassessing my balance, like a rebooted computer checking for viruses, before I can risk walking.

4. I am starving at 5pm at night and would eat dinner then, if possible.

5. My knees crack and I groan out loud when I have to bend to the ground (about 100 times a day to retrieve toys).

6. I have chronic indigestion.

7. My memory is fuzzy and I have lost my ability to navigate while driving. I miss turnoffs I’ve been driving through for years.

8. I need to use the bathroom all the time.

Truly, life as an octogenarian will be a walk in the park. Sure, I’ll have all of this to contend with - but next time around Big Sis and Little Bro will be heating up my milk!

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Goldilocks and the sneaky sleep

I’ve always been a good sleeper, and also a sneaky sleeper - prepared to turn anything into an opportunity for a nap! Check out number 3 in this post for a sneaky sleep example from my earlier days.

If parenthood gets in the way of anything its a good nights sleep, and once there are 2 kids the chance of getting a quick nap during the day drastically diminish! The problem is that being pregnant I become overwhelmed by fatigue at about 3pm every day and there is no cure, apart from at least 20 minutes shut eye!

Yesterday I visited a friend who has 3 kids. Our kids were playing wonderfully and my friend disappeared for a couple of minutes. I immediately reclined on the sofa and fell fast asleep. My friend of course didn’t have the heart to wake me and I managed to get 20 minutes shut eye before waking with a start in that drooling, confused, “where am I” kind of fug!

At first I was embarrassed but then I thought - I’m really onto something! From now on I’ll arrange play dates at other peoples houses and wait until they leave the room - once I’m asleep I guarantee no one would be hard hearted enough to wake me, and they have no option but to look after my kids! The perfect sneaky sleep!

DSO suggested I could take it a step further and pretend to be going to bathroom, find an unattended bed and curl up Goldilocks style! I’m not sure I’m that cheeky, but as the third trimester develops and the fatigue grows, who knows - I will be a desperate woman!

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I’ll take 4!

Today it suddenly struck me how expensive my kids are getting! As babies their needs were contained and inexpensive, as I chose not to be seduced by the “spend lots of money on baby stuff to show everyone what a great parent you are” industry. Or, my personal favorite, the “commercialised children’s play industry” where you book them into all sorts of sing along, bang stuff together, climb around and jump up and down type activities (which you pay lots of money for). I always think of it as what we used to do in the back yard when our parents told us “For heavens sake, go outside and play!”.

Don’t get me wrong, every parent needs a bit of structure and focus in a day, so if you can afford it and enjoy it, then great. I just resent the way they are marketed to vulnerable parents. As I often point out that Mozart, Beethoven and even John Lennon managed to scale the heights of musical achievement without the advantages Mini Maestros offers 6 month old babies! At that age isn’t it all about sucking the tambourine? Or is that just my kids?

Now the kids are rapidly growing up the financial drain has started at pace, I believe it is an increasingly slippery slope until adolescence! The problem is that where we used to need only 2 things, now we need 4. It goes something like this; DSO is hungry so he orders a plate of pasta at a café, I can’t be around food without eating so I order a sandwich. Big Sis then states that she wants a smoked salmon pide. I offer her some vegemite sandwiches that I have packed for hungry kids. The answer is a resounding no! How about some sultanas? Not on your life. The grapes I’ve bought along and I’ll order a milkshake?

Of course, Little Bro is now alert to the fact that Big Sis is getting something and he needs one too, whatever it is! He follows the conversation with interest and every time she rejects something he screams “No no no no!” - in case the undesirable object is foisted on him. The only solution is for him to have a plate of adult food that looks just like Big Sis’ - and you better get it right, because he checks carefully!

I used to be able to open a large umbrella when its raining and cover me, Big Sis and Little Bro. This is no longer acceptable as Big Sis requires her own umbrella - “That I’m in charge of Mummy!”.

You cannot of course buy her an umbrella without buying one of identical specifications for Little Bro. So our umbrella expenditure has more than doubled this Winter, not to mention the advanced umbrella management techniques I ‘m required to master so that no-one loses an eye as we career down the street in the pouring rain - a heavily pregnant woman, a 3 year old, a 1 year old and three umbrellas! Take this as a warning, if you see us coming cross the street!

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