"I Like the Wargo"

Three weeks ago, after picking Nyah up from her first music lesson, there was an incident.  We'd briefly stopped at the health food store to get a few items and we were travelling our usual route home.  We were listening to the usual tunes in the car (primarily EFY) and all was well.  The children were munching away on their healthy snack.  We were about 800 metres from our home, right outside our doctor's surgery and Café Del Mar.  We were stationary.  I had my indicator on to signal a right hand turn into a side street once the oncoming traffic had passed.  We were not there long when a deafening smash and a jolt from behind awoke us to a spot of panic.  I was actually calm.  I turned around to see if the children were all accounted for.  They were.  Levi was quiet, but he had not long woken up from a small nap.  Tori seemed fine and there was a little whimper coming from Amon.  Nyah was her usual loud, dramatic self so I knew she was ok.  In a flash, people from the café and our doctors from the surgery came running to our aid.  Strangers were pulling my children from the car.  I sat there politely thanking them.  Over all this bustle the CD in the car continued and I heard the most beautiful words "I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me, confused at the grace that so fully He proffers me".  It was no mistake that that song came on just when it did.  It reminded me once again that we are in His safe hands.

I had never been in a car smash before.  I wasn't quite sure what I was meant to do.  A lovely Yarra Trams staff member came to the driver's side of the vehicle and said through my open window "are you ok?  You're going to need to get out of the car as the other car has it's battery and wires all exposed with a liquid running out of it".  I asked if I could just sit for a moment and call my husband.  I did that and exited the car.

Nyah was in the care of a lady who was out the front of the café having her Friday afternoon cap.  She was shaking with shock and still crying.  Levi was sitting with some other lady and so too was Tori.  A waitress from the café had Amon in her arms.  After changing Tori's pants (because in the smash she had actually wet herself) and making sure my children were all comfortable,  I was concerned for the driver of the other vehicle.  She was clearly in shock and quite concerned about the welfare of her young grandson who was her passenger.  The accident was as bewildering to the other driver as it was to us because she had turned over her left shoulder to check behind for the street sign and just didn't see that I was stopped.  We heard no brakes, screeches from her car or anything.  Just a thunderous noise on impact.

Levi was not a happy camper.  Tori was beside
herself.  Did get a picture of her screaming with
the vein in her neck bulging. 

It was to be an exciting moment for any little boy.  First came the fire truck with real life firemen.  Then came the paramedics followed shortly after by the police.  One on a motorbike and another two in a car.  This all happened at the end of the tramline too so the amount of different transportation in the one place, all with their flashing lights and sirens were thrilling for Levi - at first.

Poor Nyah has a major fear of doctors.  She had a negative experience when she was two years old and she will not forget it.  Of course, her fears sometimes rub off onto her younger siblings exacerbating all apprehension they ever had of going inside the ambulance to get checked out.  So the ride home from the scene (the whole 800m), was not nearly exciting as it could have been.

Children and mother were all accounted for.  No one received any serious injuries.  The really exciting thing for the children was that we got to test out a Toyota Tarago (people mover) while we looked for a new car to buy (given that the Territory was a total write off).  Tori jumped in the 'Wargo' like she owned it, exclaiming "I like the Wargo mummy".  We all like the 'Wargo'.  So after much deliberation and inwardly fighting off the dreaded label of becoming a 'van mum', we are "investing" in a Toyota Tarago.  I am in love with the van.  I take back anything I ever said about vans and the 'type' of people who drive them.  I am now the proud driver of a people mover and no I'm not planning on filling all the seats with my own children as my husband suggested.  We are done, dusted, finished.  Doors are closed.  Happy that the new 'Wargo' has self opening/closing doors with the push of a button.  Heaven.

This is Nyah with the gorgeous paramedic.  This was about as close to the ambulance that she would get. 
She refused to ride home in it, instead going with daddy in the rental car he had for the day.

Things that go Bump in the Night

 

At 6:15am I hear the first pitter-patter of footsteps in my room. One by one the children crawl into bed with me. Levi strokes my back, Tori breathes heavily in my ear and wraps her little arm around my neck whilst Nyah tries ever so hard not to talk. I sigh (wishing I could just get another half an hour sleep), and think 'one day I'm going to miss all this'.

 

The night prior brought with it the usual:  Amon waking for a feed twice (because he doesn't fill up on solids at meal times because he prefers the boobi juice), Tori a couple of times because she wakes to find her father missing from her room (how dare he not stay seated on the sofa in her room as he was when she fell asleep) and Nyah... with one of her 'episodes' as we like to call them. 

 

These episodes are not something I have shared with too many people as I have wanted to be sensitive to Nyah's feelings.  It's quite personal for her but with her permission I am making record. 

Shortly after Nyah's fourth birthday she started waking in the night with what appeared to be chronic pains around her 'girly parts'.  She couldn't really describe the pain.  She kept asking for some kind of cream to sooth the pain.  Being the mother, it was my job to inspect.  As far as I could tell there were no signs of irritability - no redness or alike.  That night - the first time it happened - it seemed the cream helped and after half hour of trauma, she found comfort and went back to sleep.  This continued for four nights straight.

 

When your child is in THAT kind of pain (I have video of these episodes however I only used it to show doctors as a form of evidence worthy of investigation), it is a nightmare for a mother.  You just want to take it away or take it upon yourself because you can deal with it better.

Nyah seemed free of this irritation for a couple of weeks.  I figured whatever was bothering her had resolved.  To my horror it started happening again.  A pattern was emerging.  I noticed it was only ever in the night between the hours of 10:30pm and 1:00am.  These 'episodes' were lasting only for about half an hour at the maximum.  As the weeks and months rolled on I began to notice that the pains came on much like my own labour contractions.  They started small, gradually built and then subsided.  She would be pain free for about 5 minutes or so and then another 'contraction'. I Googled it.  You can Google everything!  Turns out that there are forums on these things. Parents all over have experienced this night time trauma with their girls ranged between the ages of 4 and 11.  Mothers had taken their girls to all the different specialists under the sun and found no answers.  Some suggested self stimulation was the cause, not that the child is doing that in a sexual way, more the fact they are discovering their body.  Others suggested abuse to be the cause, which chilled me to the bone. 

What arose from my Googling gave way to some important and special conversations with my daughter.  Conversations about her body, how it is a gift from her Heavenly Father, that she is blessed to have a body that is in good working order - she can walk, run, play, see, hear, smell and taste - and the importance of taking care of it.  We discussed the ways we can take care of our body.  We talked about food, nutrition, occasional treats, what we call our church's Word of Wisdom.  We discussed exercise and rest and also hygiene.  We have always tried to teach our children the importance of dressing appropriately for different occasions.  Even when small we try not to expose our children in public.  They do not run around naked at the swimming pool or at the beach.  Even in our own home there are things that we consider appropriate and other things that we feel are not (ie playing in the pool in the privacy of the courtyard butt naked as opposed to answering the front door to the post man - regardless of age).  We try to teach them that their bodies are nothing to be ashamed of, but to be respected - all this without them becoming fearful of people who choose to abuse a child's innocence.

Nyah had to know that if she was ever in an uncomfortable situation she could always talk to me about it.  She would never be in trouble for someone else's actions.  My feeling is, these are not once off conversations.  It's a continuous round of reinforcing to my children the importance of taking care of, respecting and even honouring the bodies they have been blessed with.  It's far more than a physical thing.

 

  I asked Nyah flat out some 'big' questions.  These were difficult because I was fearful of what would happen next if I was to hear the worst.  They had to be asked though.  It's part of my responsibility as her mother.

Finally this week we received answers.  There is not a quick fix for Nyah.  These issues will eventually cease but are likely to continue from time to time over the next few years.  Doctors have put it down to growing pains.  It sounds simple and almost like we are being brushed off, however I have done enough searching, and prayer to be content with this answer.  She has been examined.  It's nothing topical.  It's only occurring in the night when she is relaxed.  Children in these growing years experience differing kinds of growing pains.  For me it was my knees and feet.  I clearly remember this now. 

 

In the meantime, we continue to be woken at night for half hour bursts of trauma.  Nyah clings to her father for comfort while he rubs her back (as he did mine) during her 'contractions' (which doctors feel are coming from the bowel (a spasm) as opposed to the vagina).  Then when her episode has passed, Jim will lovingly carry his little princess back to her bed, tuck her in, and brush her forehead with a kiss.

A dear woman taught me something recently.  This woman recently lost her husband who was way too young to pass.  She was left with four daughters under the age of 13 to take care of.  She taught me that even in grief there is beauty.  Even in trial there is peace.  I am by no means comparing these sleep deprived nights to the trails of this lady, but I give thanks for her counsel.  I can see what she means.  Were it not for these things that go bump in the night, perhaps I would not have seen the necessity to educate my children in this manner.  These moments in the night when all is quiet, after the pain has subsided, Jim and I are able to work on building a relationship of trust with Nyah. We hope that she can feel our love and concern for her.  These episodes of pain are traumatic for Nyah and myself (as her mother), but there is also beauty and even peace.

 

 

 

Guess How Much I Love You

Amon James,

Today I held you up to the window of our upstairs bedroom.  You looked out with excitement to that dark and dreary world (it was rainy and windy and looking wintery and yuck).  We don't have much of a view from the window, but the expression on your face seemed to tell me otherwise.

I wanted to bottle you up right there and then. 

You rolled over tonight.  You are five and a half months old and not yet rolling over.  I don't mind though, I'd be happy to keep you just the way you are forever.  Before too long our snuggles in bed will be gone.  You will turn into this wriggly toddler and then before I know it, it will no longer be appropriate to snuggle your mother in bed, nor will it be something you'll want to do.  So I saver these moments Amon.  Right now you are mine.

I had an experience a couple of weeks ago that I want to share with you, because it involved you.  Your daddy is very diligent at saying his prayers.  I'm more of an on-the-go gal.  I talk to Heavenly Father all the time like he is right there with me - because he is.  I don't always kneel at the beginning of the day, and sometimes my night time prayers happen when my head hits the pillow.

A couple of weeks ago we were on a family outing.  Daddy stopped at a bakery to get some goodies.  Daddy and your brother and sisters went to get the baked goods and you and I stayed in the car.  You were needing the booby juice.  I sat you on my lap after nursing you and looked into your innocent eyes.  They danced and they sparkled as you looked at me with delight.  I felt a pure love.  I felt how people are supposed to love each other.  At that moment I knew what the Saviour meant when He said "ye must... become as a little child or ye can in nowise inherit the kingdom of God" (3 Nephi 11:38).  You Amon, love me with a perfect love.  There are no strings attached.  I see it in your eyes and it melts my heart.

It was during this moment of quiet and realisation that I hugged you, as tight as I could without squeezing the life out of you and said "oh I love you Amon".  I then whispered to Heavenly Father (as I always do), "do you love me this much Father"?  And I believe because it was quiet and I was open to listening, I heard within myself a resounding "more".  I wondered how that was possible. I still wonder.

I don't know if you will ever have an experience like the one I did, that day.  I hope you do.  I know you know more about this stuff than me right now.  You are the one that is teaching me.  But when you are old enough to read this, you may have forgotten what that pure, innocent, perfect, love-like-the-Saviour love feels like.  Know this, just to feel a portion of that, is enough for me to be reminded of who I am and what I mean to our Father in Heaven. 

Thank you for what you are teaching me my son.  You are amazing. 

 

And then there were Four

It's been ten weeks since you came into the world little one.  I cannot tell you what joy you bring into my life.  Every day I tell your daddy how lovely I think you are.  You have made that tiring pregnancy seem like a distant memory.  I must tell you a little about it though, just so you can have some empathy one day when perhaps your wife is feeling the aches, pains and exhaustion from being pregnant.

The sickness with you was not so bad.  I had good days, bad days and the odd revolting day.  This time around it was more the tiredness and then later, the sciatic pain which made it hard to walk some days.  Even this wasn't consistent though.  Some days you were positioned just so that I was fine to get out and about.  Other days you must have been sitting right on a nerve. 

Each pregnancy has been different.  This pregnancy I felt extreme guilt.  Guilt that I didn't have the energy to push Tori on the swing at the park.  Guilt that I really didn't feel like having Nyah's friend come over for a play date.  Guilt that I just didn't feel like getting out and about when I knew it was exactly what your brother and sisters needed, it being summer and the lack of space we have in our yard. 

When your father and I first got engaged to be married, we made some plans together.  We talked about the things we wanted to do, places we might like to go and how many children we would like to have.  Your father suggested we have eight children.  I always wanted a big family, but eight was not a number I even considered.  I liked the idea of having four, but felt that we would just take it one at a time and see what Heavenly Father had in store for us.

I had a funny feeling after your sister Tori was born.  It was not a feeling of contentment.  I looked into her eyes and I loved her with my whole heart, but I really felt like there was another little spirit, waiting to join our family and that we mustn't delay their arrival. 

It was during the final few weeks of my pregnancy with you Amon, that I was laying on the couch feeling miserable.  I had probably downed  four cups of raspberry leaf tea (recommended to bring on labour), had a session of acupuncture that morning, been rubbing my pressure points (recommended to induce labour) been sniffing the Clary Sage oil (also recommended to induce labour) and been bouncing up and down on the fit ball (another method for bringing on labour).  Honey, I tried everything. While I was thus laying on the couch in misery, I looked at your siblings - especially Nyah - and thought how unfair this was on them.  It was a beautiful day outside and they were sitting watching the television.  I thought about how Nyah, has been through three of my pregnancies (all of which haven't been easy) and that it would be extremely selfish of me to continue this pattern.  It was time for us to enjoy the children we have been blessed with and for those children to have a mother who was well, happy and present.  I explained this to your daddy and we feel really good with our decision.  We will not close the doors to more little Stancombes in the future if that's what is meant to be, but for now, we desire to love and cherish the little ones we have right now.

The day you were born dad had started his paternity leave. He started early because I was having difficulty looking after your siblings being unable to walk much.  I had acupuncture in the morning and a nice hot Indian curry for lunch.  I was determined to get you out.  At around 6pm that evening I started to feel a few small contractions.  I'd felt these off and on in the weeks leading up to your birth.  Some had gotten quite strong and fairly close together, getting me all excited and ready for your birth.  This night I was getting excited.  Hopeful more than anything as you were two days overdue.  We out your brother and sisters to bed and by 8:30pm things were feeling like they were happening.  We called a friend of ours to come by so that daddy could get me to the hospital.  We arrived at the hospital at around 9:15pm.  By that time the contractions were very strong and fairly close together.  They just weren't lasting too long.  I felt you were on your way though and I just wanted it all to hurry up.  I was a little bit scared about your birth.  Your sister Tori was not positioned the best way and birthing her was very painful on my lower back.  Given that I had terrible sciatic pain during my pregnancy with you, I anticipated a very painful labour.  That scared me.  I quietly discussed with your daddy my desire to have an epidural to take away the pain.  He talked me out of it, assuring me that I would be fine and that I was stronger than I thought.  That was fine coming from a man Amon.  You son, will never know what it is like to give birth.  It is assuredly no walk in the park, but it is none the less a wonderful blessing.  Anyhow, the midwife (who was extremely giddy) suggested I have a water birth.  It's funny because I had viewed giving birth in a bath as a bit unconventional.  Perhaps a bit hippy-ish. But, having seen a water birth on television a few days prior, it intrigued me and I thought that I could give it a try and if it didn't suit, I'd just get out of the bath.  Amon, it was fantastic!  It was still ouchy but it gave me so much relief on my lower back.  Your dad got let off easy this time too.  Previous labours he has had to massage my back, applying a lot of pressure using his thumbs.  The poor darling's thumbs had gotten so sore in the process (tough I know). This time, all daddy had to do was keep the hot water spraying over my back from the shower head. It was such a relief.

Levi is so happy to have a brother

My waters broke, I felt the urge to push.  I did one big push and your head came out.  Then your little body slid out after.  All this within five minutes.  I cannot describe how it felt to see you for the first time. And to have you free.

You are now smiling, talking and even giggling.  You feed really well and sleep so wonderfully at night.  We don't have to rock you to sleep.  You just know that when daddy wraps you tight, it's time to go nigh-nighs.  You are such an angel baby.  When I am feeding in front of the television at night, I glance down to see why you have stopped sucking.  I find you looking up at me with a beautiful big smile and once we've made that connection, you go back to feeding.  I shower you with kisses.  You're too little to squeeze tight for a big hug so I hold you with your chest to mine and snuggle my nose into your neck.  I cannot tell you how many times I've kissed those growing cheeks of yours.  You are growing so fast, I'm really starting to feel like I am losing my baby.  It's at these times I realise that you may very well be the last of my babies and how quickly the time just gets away on us. Will I feel those pangs again once you have grown?

 

Amon James. It took us months to give you that name.  Your father and I are quite particular.  It had to be strong, have a nice meaning behind it, couldn't be shortened, plain, weird, girly or lengthy.  We considered Ezra for a while.  I love the meaning of Ezra and Ezra Taft Benson was also the prophet of my childhood.  He left behind a pretty good legacy and some wonderful quotes that daddy and I find often in our reading.  Still, dad couldn't shake the fact that a woman at his work was called Esra and he didn't want a name that was girly.  I also really liked Eden, but daddy said that was too girly also.  Daddy really liked Jesse but we already have a Jess in our family so I wasn't keen for another. 

Daddy has a friend called Eamon.  I've always liked the name but didn't really throw it in for consideration because of daddy's friend.  I thought he'd for sure toss it in the trash straight away.  I suggested it one day and daddy gave it some thought.  One thing that didn't excite me about the name Eamon was its meaning - protector of wealth.  I thought with daddy being a banker, it might seem like he's a bit money hungry.  It might have suited just nicely given that your dad is rather tight.  I looked for alternative spellings of Eamon when I came across 'Amon'. 

It is pronounced 'Ah-mun'.  Amun was an Egyptian god and the meaning is: 'true and faithful'. It is believed that the name of King Amon in the bible derived from this Egyptian god.  King Amon was a wicked man who followed after his father, Manasseh.  Manasseh worshipped graven images and false gods.  Manasseh, in later life had a change of heart.  He desired to do that which was right in the sight of God.  It's a shame he didn't have a positive influence over his son Amon as your father will have on you.  You are very blessed to have a daddy like you do.

 

You have been given a name which means 'true and faithful'.  It is our prayer that you always remain a true and faithful member of our family and more importantly, to you heavenly father.  I promise if you do, you will find happiness that has no end.

I love you my precious boy.

 

ps: This posting was written when you were ten weeks old.  It has been sitting in my drafts all this time.

The Christmas Road Trip

I'm sure I have mentioned before one of my major weaknesses - that of patience.  I have none, or very little of it.  In a previous post I discussed a characteristic that my five year old daughter has of being loud. I think she inherited this from her father's side of the family.  When Jim and I first started dating I really noticed how loud everyone spoke.  Perhaps it was more the fact that my father mumbled in his boots half the time.  In fact, my father mumbled so much that when we were in the United States on two separate family trips, Mum and I had to translate for him.  It was the accent coupled with the mumbling that was the problem.

Nyah in Nyah

Anyhow, Christmas this year was spent with just our small immediate family. It was our first Christmas spent this way.  Christmas morning brought with it the usual excitement for the children, however this year, Nyah was most excited about our planned family trip to a place north-west of Melbourne called Swan Hill.  Many asked us why we chose to go to Swan Hill.  It was a bit like getting out the map of Victoria, closing our eyes and going where the finger landed on the map.  When we first moved to Melbourne we learned that there was a small town called 'Nyah' in Victoria.  We had promised our Nyah that we would one day make the trip up there so she could have her picture taken with the town sign.  Swan Hill is a little more populated than the little town of Nyah so we chose to head to the New South Wales border to see the mighty Murray river, explore the pioneer township of Swan Hill and make the short drive to Nyah.

On Christmas Eve, Jim and I rigged up a wonderful contraption.  Not having a portable DVD player we improvised.  We took the end of the broom off the broom stick and slid the iPad onto the middle of the broomstick.  We then sat the two ends on the driver and passenger seats, fastening the ends to the seats using scarves. We then took our little portable iPhone and iPad dock and speakers which synchronised via Bluetooth to the iPad. The kids had their own little theatre in the back of the car.  Jim and I felt quite pleased with our creativity.  The hour and a half of movie watching in the back of the car, coupled with the hour nap was bliss.  As for the other two hours of road tripping it was a nightmare. 

As a child I longed for the company of siblings to do things with.  I was one of those children that just wanted to make instant friends with other kids so that I could play, have fun and interact with someone my own age.  My children have each other and of late (about the last month or so), they seem to delight in fighting with each other.  In the back of the car they poked and prodded, pulled hair, scratched, snatched and all the in between.  I'm gob-smacked by this behaviour.  I find it really hard to understand and in a confined space, having not been naturally blessed with the gift of patience, the road trip was turning this momma into a humbug.  It was a wonderful way to dispose of any Christmas Spirit.  I wont even start on the volume of our screaming children.  I will give a small word of advice though.  Should anyone contemplate having more than two children, be sure to get a car large enough that you can always have a space between the children.  I would even go as far as selecting very carefully the companion in which you choose to have your posterity with.  For example: if you are one who has the characteristic of stubbornness and persistence, marry someone who is meek and humble.  That way you are less likely to end up with a posterity that has a double dose of both stubbornness and persistence.  'Lord, bless me with patience, without the trialling of it please'.

Christmas lunch for us consisted of a brief stop somewhere around the half-way point at a tiny little park in the middle of nowhere.  Jim pulled out the crackers, delicious chesses and dip, the croissants and fruit.  It was all very simple.  I'm sure part of us missed the pavlova, cassata, cheesecakes and fresh raspberries and cream, but the small chocolate at the end of our country dining seemed to top things off.















Oh the joy of finally being at our destination.  Home for us for the next two nights was the Big4 Swan Hill Park.  It is a recreational park with caravan sites and cabins to suit the couple and family.  When we opened the door to our small cabin, Nyah was delighted to discover bunk beds.  She jumped atop one of them, selected her bed, lay down and declared "this is life".  The park has a swimming pool, jumping pillow and a waterpark.  One of the ones with a waterslide, a huge bucket and all the sprinklers and water squirting things you could hope for.  It truly was a kids paradise when accompanied by the beautiful hot weather we were able to enjoy.  It was a delight to see the children running around freely, enjoying the outdoors and each other's company. 

We went across the Murray river to cross the border into NSW via a punt.  It's a special raft-type thing that you put your car on and float across the river (about 100 metres).  There wasn't much on the other side of the river but we had to have the experience due to the fact that it's apparently the last punt in the country. 


On the banks of the small town of Nyah

Jim's 'Murray River Cod'.

We got to visit the small town of 'Nyah'.  We stopped there on the banks of the river for morning tea.  The Murray's water is brown and murky, but the large gumtrees, occasional weeping willow and the wildlife tend to make it very beautiful in its own right.  You certainly can't compare it to anything like the majesty of Niagra Falls or the Lake District in the UK, but it definitely has its own unique beauty.  The water had dropped a fair bit since Victoria's wet winter.  We noticed a small fish - to which we are calling a Murray River Cod (we really have no idea what kind of fish it was) - trapped in a puddle on the bank.  I felt sorry for the thing.  I knew that the puddle would eventually dry up and the poor fish would die a slow miserable death.  It was my idea that Jim would be its saviour and throw it back in the river where it belonged.  Three keen children peered into the small pond to watch their father attempt to rescue the fish.  It was very slimy and each time Jim thought he had a grip on it, it slid from his grasp like a slippery bar of soap.  Jim wore him down though and was able to throw him back into the river.  I imagine he felt to echo the words of Nyah -  "this is life".  We hoped he got to enjoy of bit of it before getting hooked by the keen fishermen who were enjoying the Murray in their dinghies on a hot summer's day.




 

On the Pyap

We visited briefly the Swan Hill Pioneer Settlement.  It was a hot day so we decided to just take a trip on the Pyap paddle steamer.  It was an hour road trip and well worth it.  along side that section of the Murray at least, it is so dry.  The old gumtrees, the riverbank and the dryness reminded me of some of Albert Namatjira's paintings (a famous Aboriginal artist).  He started out quite traditional in his artwork but is most famous for his Australian landscape paintings.

 

 

We almost lost Tori overboard on the Pyap.  If it wasn't for the captain who was giving commentary via microphone as we paddled, she may have taken a dive.  Only takes a brief moment with that girl of ours.  She is extremely quick and her climbing is first rate.  I think the poor old captain was freaked out by the whole incident because it seemed to take him a while to catch his breath after that.

With all three children in toe we departed out country escape bound for the big smoke via the town of Bendigo.  I didn't mind Bendigo.  There was something about it that reminded me of Launceston.  It had a very similar feel - bogans and all.

A lovely old school in Bendigo. 
The park here is stunning.


I had downloaded a movie for the children thinking it was would be a regular 120 minute film but alas, it was only about a 25 minute film.  It was a long journey back to Melbourne.  Really there is only so much of 'I Spy' a mother can take.

All in all it was a lovely time to be together.  The children thoroughly enjoyed the time out and the different surroundings.  Our next journey will be in April to Adelaide.  This time with four children.  I've been told it's an 8 hour trip.  I feel sick just thinking about it.  Perhaps I can talk that banker husband of mine into purchasing a mum van.  That way I can separate the children so that there will be no poking and prodding along the way.  And we can install a DVD player and the little TV's and they can have naps and the journey will be swell. 

I'm Just a Mum

I can't adequately describe how it feels to be a mother to my three children. I really don't think there are words fitting enough.  Well at least not in the English language.

Nothing I describe here will be out of the ordinary for many mothers but I feel obligated to pause to make record of some sweet little moments I had today just by being a mother. 

This morning I was awoken by a beautiful little girl who came into my bed for snuggles. She climbs onto my bed, then pulls back the covers, wiggles her little body in next to mine and then pulls the covers up to her chin. She then throws her arms around my neck and gives me multiple kisses. 

Later this morning during one of my nesting moments I decided I was going to assemble Levi's new bed. It's a space saver bed that was given to us by a family in our ward. Nyah's double bed fits neatly underneath Levi's new bed. 

I was struggling to hold the pieces of the bed and screw them together, so I called on Nyah to give me a hand. She stood there and very helpfully held things upright to make it possible for me to do. We tidied hers and Levi's room, getting rid of excess toys to donate to children less fortunate than ours. We vacuumed and dusted until their room looked a picture and then the three of them decided it was fun jump all over the newly made beds. I could see their delight, but alas, my weary body and mind was not impressed. I was the fun police and put things to an end. I was taught that beds were for sleeping in and if I wanted to jump on something, there was a trampoline outside. My children have a trampoline. Inferior to the one I had as a child, but a trampoline none the less. 

It came time for naps, that blessed two hours of relief for a mother whose eldest daughter does not shut up. She is wonderful, her character beautiful but why oh why does she need to be so loud? All of the time. She knows only one volume and all talking and continual singing is set to that volume. That constant noise can sometimes do your head in, thus nap time can be a wondrous thing. 

In my attempt to avoid cleaning the toilets, I decided on a change in the kitchen and dining area. The kitchen needed a thorough clean so I did that, and then proceeded to rearrange the dining table and chairs. We have an eight-seater dining table that stretches the length of our dining room. Levi rides Tori's small bicycle around and around the dining table crashing into furniture and putting dents in things. It was my genius to remove two of the dining chairs, putting them in storage in the garage and then swivelling the dining table horizontally, butting one end up against the kitchen bench and placing three chairs on each side of the dining table. As soon as Nyah came down stairs and saw the new arrangement, the first thing she said was "good idea mum now Levi can't ride the bike around the table". I thought to myself 'this child is brilliant'. 

Tori often awakes from her afternoon nap with an unpleasant lingering aroma in her room. I am always greeted with a red rosy-cheeked smile, and crazy bed hair. The way she calls out "mummy" in her husky little voice (apparently caused by sinusitis), simply melts me. She looks up at me with the purest of pure eyes and I reach into her bed to give her a hug. she is the one child that will hold on to you tightly for a real solid hug. They are the best. 

When Levi awakes from his nap, he usually wants cuddles for at least 20 minutes. Although sometimes inconvenient I relish at this opportunity. The two of us go and sit on our nice big couch, Levi placing his thumb in his mouth and his cheek up against mine, then with his other hand, he will gently rub my other cheek or run his fingers through my hair if not tied in a ponytail. 

At this point it will only be a few moments before Tori and Nyah want in on the cuddles. Tori and Levi will fight for prime position on my lap which sometimes ends in tears. Nyah cuddles from the side, she knows it's safer there. Meanwhile I wonder how child number four is coping in the womb with all the rough and tumble going on with his brother and sister. Then a thought comes to my mind, 'how on earth am I going to fit another one on my lap for cuddle time?' 

When I first fell in love with Jim I didn't dream of that love growing and multiplying the way it has. I remember being pregnant with Levi and thinking 'how am I going to have enough love to go around?' I had it, and it just keeps getting bigger. With each little spirit that joins our family, my love for Jim increases. 

The day to day tasks of being a stay at home mum can be taxing and often less than exciting as far as the eyes of the world can see, but each little cuddle, cheeky expression, sassy comment, loud song and/or look of innocence, reminds me of how blessed I am to have three little ones (and another on the way), call me 'mummy'.