Welcome to Ottawa

A week ago, the four of us headed off to Canberra airport, several large suitcases and a pram in tow, to move to the other side of the world. 36 hours and 3 planes later, we landed in Ottawa on a rainy Monday afternoon, immensely grateful for the two wonderful people from Hubby's work who had come to pick us, our luggage and hyperactive children up. 

The flights had been ok. Not horrific. Not great. Just ok. The phernergan worked...for a while, but we still had times where The Youngest did the perfect kangaroo impression down the aisle, paws up, boinging quite loudly, loudly demanding Dora, or 'uuuuuppppp' or walking to the toilet. The Eldest coloured in for while in her books, before deciding to graffiti her cubicle, spilt numerous cups of water all over her seat and refused to eat anything other than chocolate teddy bear biscuits. Being in business class meant that I got to enjoy my fully reclining chair snuggled up with a rotating schedule my children had cleverly engineered as the perfect way of ensuring Mumma was rarely lonely. I managed to watch one movie in 6 sittings, eat most of my meals solo, and read one of the essential readings for my first Masters unit. On our last flight, The Youngest refused to sit in her seat until the attendant got cross with her, and then promptly hopped back out of her seat, stood in the aisle, extended her palm and said 'Stop! Milli want off plane NOW! ' 

But we survived. And now we are enjoying the roller coaster ride that is a toddler suffering from jet-lag. 2am renditions of wheels on the bus have reminded us why we don't willingly share a room with The Youngest on a usual basis. We were told a few days ago, that it takes a day for every hour of travel to get over the jet-lag. Which means another fortnight to go. 

We are currently staying in the beautiful 2 bedroom apartment of the lovely girl that Hubby had just taken over from. The girls are coping pretty well, considering they have hardly any toys and have been either confined to the apartment, confined to the pram or confined to the car. We are staying in the Byward Market area - lots of shops but ultimately not little kid friendly. We have been looking around at some houses, and in what has been noted as some what of a record, we have already found a house in the area we really wanted - a house with a garage, which apparently is vital in winter - though I can't imagine why ;) Which means we can now find a school for The Eldest. 

We have a car that we can't use until we get the registration and insurance sorted out. So a few days ago we ventured out to try our luck with the bus system, as I desperately needed to buy some new entertainment for the kids - a bag of barbies, surprisingly, is not enough to keep them entertained. Who would have thought...

We have also been quite social (for us) and went out on Friday night (sans children - piggy backed onto a babysitting option!) with people from the High Commission. I have met the Australian High Commissioner twice now. The first time was at the High Commission, where The Youngest spent the whole time picking her nose and The Eldest spent her time rolling on top of the coffee table. On Friday night, when I met the High Commissioner again, she asked if my children had calmed down yet (inward cringe). After getting over that hurdle, was the hurdle of the small talk, where she used big words like bio-data, that my jet-lagged, slightly inebriated brain couldn't cope with. Thankfully she was quickly whisked off to be given a tour of the penthouse, so I was rescued in a timely fashion from making a true idiot of myself. 

Saturday saw us catching up with a friend from home, who parents live in Ottawa. She had organised a neighbourhood party - where the majority of the lovely guests were francophone - and we, the anglophone Aussies where the only mono-lingual people there. Still, we met lovely people, the kids had a great time and we left with a renewed vigour for trying to learn at least a little French while we are here. 

Hubby has started work, I've been busy with assignments and entertaining the children, exploring supermarkets and drinking endless cups of tea. Still hard to believe we are not on holidays and that this is where we are living now. Hopefully the car will be sorted out soon, and we can get to doing the touristy things we have been looking forward to!

Au Revoir for now

Jenoir xxx

Saying Goodbye

When I look at The Youngest, with a mass of golden curls, confidently navigating her way around the iPad or iPhone, I know that two years is a relatively short amount of time. Two years ago we had just moved into our house. The Youngest was 4 weeks old. And now, two years later she walks, runs, holds conversations and pretty much tries to run our family dictatorship style...

So I know that the next two years are going to fly by, and before I know it, the removal people will be unpacking the boxes and furniture that they just packed up. And I will be saying hello to all the people I have been saying goodbye to. 

Some goodbyes have been harder than others. The goodbyes that signal an end to a phase of our lives that we won't return to. Today, the girls ended a 2 and a half year association with their childcare  centre. There were tears, from me and from their teachers. These wonderful educators have nurtured, taught and loved my girls. They have delighted in their milestones. They have been a part if the 'village' that has helped to raise my children. We have been so lucky in the care and love shown to our children. I will be for ever thankful, that although I didn't have the luxury of being a Stay At Home Mum, my girls had the most wonderful opportunities given to them. Goodstart Isaacs - we will miss you. 

Other goodbyes have not been so hard - because they are not really goodbyes - more farewells and Bon Voyages. The goodbyes said to friends who will still be there, even though I will so far away. It has been hard to see everyone, and there are many treasured friends we did not have a chance to say goodbye too. Such was the frantic nature of our last three weeks.

But the hardest goodbyes have been to our families: those amazing people who are there for us through everything, with whom we share everything, and who are absolutely everything to us. Missing two years of our nieces and nephews growing up, our daughters missing two years of extended family life, is a hard thing to come to terms with.

Thankfully, we are better off than when I moved to the UK 14 years ago. Now we have Skype and face time and vyber. So see you in two years has become see you on the computer. Still.  I'm going to miss them all so much.

Most of all, I am going to miss my dog. Barney Boy, my furry child, who has no way of knowing where I am and when I  coming back. That's the bit that's breaking my heart. I love you fella.  Just for you little one, I hope the two years fly. 

A bit of Inner Goddess

Over the past three weeks, I have had a lot of comments 'you are looking really well!'
There are a few reasons for why this is true.

Firstly, I really wasn't looking after myself. I did look like a really tired, worn out, aged version of my pre-child self. I got into the rut of too-busy Mumma and let myself go. I thought I looked ok, until I found a passport photo if myself from 2004. I looked...young. And like I had had a thousand hours of sleep. I'll admit it - I thought I looked good.

So, I began a mini makeover. Firstly I went out and bought make-up. Make-up.

And then, I actually made an effort to find some time to apply it. It is amazing, how that simple act, made me feel good. I know that many people would think that's wrong - I should be worshipping the inner goddess within or something. Being au naturale. But I am saying it loud and proud - makeup makes my inner self feel good.

I spent three months growing out my eyebrows. You can imagine the look I got from Hubby when I said that - along with the confused shake of the head, the mumbled comments of confused questioning 'chicks....' And then I got those hairy caterpillars waxed - and now they match. My inner self began feeling a little bit more goddessee.

And now, now I am at the hair salon. Getting my hair coloured and cut. For me, a momentous, and over the past four years, rare occurrence.

And it feels great.

For a few moments at least, I find myself not consumed with my seemingly endless lists and paperwork. I am not thinking of my frustrations with e-tax and a very unexpected tax debt. I am not thinking about the fact that we haven't sold our car. I am not thinking about the fact that my Masters started this week and I have yet to do anything other than logon and see how many conscientious people are already forum-discussing/blog-posting.

No, I am admiring the hair colour of the hair dresser doing my hair. As I have a colour marinating on my head right now, it's a little too late to say 'I want your hair' - especially as the bold foils should be done first. Damn. But I do comment on her hair, and let her discuss at length how she can achieve that look for me next time. We bonded over a mutual love of chocolatey warmth with cherry highlights.

But alas, then there was a very awkward parting of ways. I had to severe that new bond, the one where my hairdresser thought she had nabbed that elusive prize - the returning new and very satisfied customer.  I had to confess  - 'actually, I'm not coming back'.

But not because of the hair cut. The haircut is feeling quite goddessee indeed.

Now I feel like someone who can legitimately saunter (yes I plan to saunter) up to Business Class and sip my champagne while the lower classes board their cramped flight accommodations.

10 days and counting...

19 sleeps

In 20 sleeps I am planning on drinking a glass or three of wine at 8am. I don't usually plan my alcohol consumption so far ahead. Usually, I just plan for a glass of vino at the end of the day. But this time I am being specific. 8am. Airport Lounge. Glass of Red.

Because in 19 sleeps we will have boarded our domestic flight to Sydney and in 20 sleeps we will be boarding our flight to the next two years of our life. Exciting as that thought is, I have to get though the next 19 days first.

Life with a 2 and 4 year old is chaotic at the best of times. Right now, I wish they were in childcare 24/7 as I cannot get ANYTHING done while they are around. Ok, so they are only 2 and 4, and the concept of moving our lives overseas is well and truly beyond them. They are oblivious to my preoccupation of sorting the contents of the house into:
* luggage (stuff we cannot do without for at least 6 weeks),
* overseas up lift (stuff we can live without for up to six weeks, but after that become must have nows) * storage (stuff we don't need for the next years/stuff that won't work in north america/stuff we probably will never need again but I can't throw out
* rubbish (stuff I should have gotten rid of ten years ago but have lugged around because I couldn't be bothered)...

Instead of understanding and pandering to my obvious stressed out preoccupation, The Eldest suffered a frustrating day of asking me to 'play shops'. Something I had no desire or inclination to do, as it involves The Eldest having a sheet up over her bunk bed and me endlessly knocking on the door asking for random items that I have put away and mentally noted which of the four categories they belonged to. I did willingly participate in 45 mins worth of hide and seek. This involved me 'hiding' in easily locatable spots and not necessarily making any attempt to seek her out, meaning I could sneak in five mins here and there to peruse my incredibly long list in the vain hope that something achievable might leap out at me.

I did think that calling to organise dates for disconnection of utilities was achievable, except that I ended up locking myself away in our wardrobe in order to hear the man at ACTEW. I'm surprised he didn't offer to call for emergency assistance for me, as I can quite sure it sounded like I was being attacked by wolves carrying sledgehammers.

To prove my preoccupation was a danger to all involved, The Youngest spent the day head butting all manner of household objects and now sports a fine collection of bruises and one egg on her forehead. She did this whilst insisting on watching the same episode of Hi-5 over and over. I thought this would be a welcome change to Dora, and am prepared to say at this point that it was definitely a mistake.

I did attempt to take them out for a walk. I unpacked the pram, reassembled it, argued for 45 mins about the importance of putting on shoes, socks and a jumper in 12 degree weather, gave up, disassembled the pram, packed it up and made myself my 25th cup of tea for the day.

So tomorrow, much will be achieved because that pair of nutbags that I willingly brought into the world, are going to childcare, where they can spend all day playing shops and dancing and having adults watch them to ensure they don't fall over and hurt the furniture. They will be given nutritious food instead of overcooked fish fingers, teddy biscuits and chips. They will have fun, play and be with friends. And come home to, hopefully, a slightly less stressed out mother, who accomplished (let's be positive) A LOT of things of her list.

A Letter to the Youngest

Life is so incredibly busy at the moment. We have just spent time catching up with Hubby's family up in Queensland before the big move overseas happens at the end of July. And in amongst all the chaos that we are going through, we stopped and took time to enjoy the wonder of our littlest girl turning 2.

She is my second child and you would think I would prepared for THAT moment. You know the one. THAT moment when you know your little baby is no longer toddler form of that beautiful baby but a toddler turning into a little girl.

I've seen it coming for the past few months. Her vocabulary doubles daily. She delights me with her sentences that I can understand more and more of. She has started ordering me around and making decisions for herself. My baby is growing up before my eyes.

And so, as I did for her sister, I am writing to her, for her, in honour of the birthday just been.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To my sweet, wild, gorgeous baby girl,

Two years ago, after months of lying transverse, giving your Mumma the worst reflux, moving constantly and being 8 days overdue, you finally decided to enter the world. You entered calmly, 8 hours after I went into labour. 2 pushes, and you eased gracefully and painlessly into our lives. In what we now know to be a trait of your single minded determination, you started feeding straight away, and stayed latched on for the next 4 hours. It did not matter that people wanted to meet you. You were set on what you wanted from the outset. You were the most placid and wonderful of babies. You had obviously read the handbook, as you slept when I wanted you to, fed when I wanted you to, and fitted into our little family as though you had always been there.

I love your determination and adventurous spirit.  You amaze me daily with your capacity to find new places and challenges to conquer. There is no such thing as 'risk' or 'fear' in your vocabulary. I love that your personality is so different to mine - that you have so many qualities I envied in others when I was growing up - qualities that will hold you in great stead as you grow. There is no couch tall enough, no staircase too high, no playground equipment too large in your world. I love that the first time you saw children on a flying fox, you turned to your Dad and said excitedly 'Milli turn!"

I love the golden curls on the back of your head that have taken such a long long time to grow. I constantly find myself reaching out to pull them through my fingers, glistening strands of perfect gold, so opposite in colour to mine. Some days you tolerate my hair stroking liberties, but mostly you shake your head with a firm 'no Mumma' and move away. I love that I will still be stroking those curls when you are all grown up, even though you will still be saying no.

I love the mischievous glint you get in your eyes, when you are deciding whether to listen to me, or go ahead and get into the very thing you have been asked not to do. I love the way your 2 year old legs run down the hallway and the high pitched giggle you get when you are being chased.

I love that when you wake up in the morning you sing out "Daddy hoooop uuuupp!" before you think about calling out for me. I love that when Daddy does get you up, you come straight to my side of the bed, hop in for cuddles and watch Bananas in Pyjamas on my phone as I struggle to wake up. Those moments, when you actually lie still and snuggle in with me, are more precious to me than gold little girl.

I love that you love Pink Bunny, Moo Moo and Baby more than any other toy, and that they have to be in bed with you for you to fall asleep. I love that Pink Bunny is THE toy that calms you down when you are upset and the way your tongue pokes out of you mouth when you hold her when you're tired.

I love that you love and adore your older sister, and watching you play happily with each other, and support each other and help each other, gives me reassurance that you are learning to be there for each other, as you will need to be, in ways that only sisters can be when you are grown up.

I love listening to you talk to me, the sentences that you are constructing and the words that you use. I love that you still call me Mumma, as well as Mum and Mummy. I love that you still call Daddy, Daddy and think it is hilarious that this week you started to call him by his first name. I love that you call Uncle Michael and Aunty Shelley 'Schmichael", that you call our puppy 'Barney Boy' just like Daddy does and that you called your sister "Dora" a long time before you started using her actual name.

I love that you love to stroke the fabric in storybooks. I love when you bring books to me asking 'Storwees pease Mumma'. I love that you still pretend not to know where the green sheep is, despite having read that story more times than I could ever count.

I love that you love green vegetables and will choose to eat them over eating chicken nuggets, chips or sausages.

I love that you are equally happy playing with your tonka truck and match box cars, as you are playing with dolls and prams with your sister. And I love that you have started asking me 'cuppa tea Mumma?' as you hand me a tea cup. I love the way you have started tilting your head to the side when asking important questions and how you answer with 'alwight', 'tankoo', and 'your welcome Mumma' when we reply.

The past two years have flown by my baby girl, and I struggle to accept that you are now such a little girl and no longer my little baby. You are growing up too fast - in many ways much faster than your sister. You are my little wild child; passionate, loving, full of insatiable curiosity, tenderness and beauty. We delight in watching you grow and the leaps and bounds you make every day. Along with your sister, you are the greatest thing I have ever done in my life. I am so lucky to be your Mumma. 

I love you more than all the stars in all the heavens in the sky, my beautiful cheeky monkey.

Happy 2nd Birthday, 

Love Mumma xxx

25 Random Thoughts

As we do from time to time in life, the curve balls thrown at us encourage us to stop, take stock and think about our lives. Which we can do - or we can run and hide under the bed covers until the storm has passed. 

Unless of course, you have kids. Then there is no hiding. I once timed how long it was until my children realised I had gone off to hide. They found me in 45 seconds. (When they don't come looking fro me, I start to twitch - what are they up to?? And then I find myself seeking them out within 45 seconds.) 

So, in an effort to take stock, and look at my glass-half full life, here are 25 random thoughts from me about my life as it stands (sits,lies) at the moment. 

1) I am totally, completely and unashamedly addicted to coffee. Although, not instant coffee. It must be espresso, brewed by a barrista. Hubby and I have become coffee snobs and refuse to indulge in instant coffee at home. The coffee place around the corner knows me, my life story and most importantly my coffee order. I believe that equates to a well balanced universe. 

2) Jack Russells are my favourite dogs. They have awesome personalities. My furry child Barney (rubble-lots-of-trouble) was my first child, and beloved. He's like a grizzly bear / teddy bear / clown all rolled into one. He has accepted his gradual move down the family pecking order with grace and good humour. In planning the move OS, I am trying very hard not to think about leaving him for 2 years. My heart breaks just thinking about it...

3) My Dad once gave me a mug that said "Housework makes you ugly" He followed this up by telling me how beautiful I was.... I'm pretty sure, looking around my house, that according to the mug that I am still beautiful, even if I don't feel like I am...

4) The Princess Bride is my all time absolute favourite movie. If you haven't seen it you should. If you have, you would know how good it is, and should know exactly what an ROUS is, where Iocane powder comes from and the power of true love.

5) My favourite season is Autumn. I love the colour of the leaves and the crispness of the air. I love the smell of falling leaves, beautiful sunny days and lovely cool nights. I love the smell of our wood fire and wearing new pj's. This year I am blessed with the opportunity to have autumn twice in one year. In 2105, I sadly, will miss autumn completely. 

6) I still have my pink puppy stuffed toy that was given to me when I was born. It has considerably less hair, is missing an ear and an eye, and has ragged stitches where I performed surgery on a thread bare patch of belly when I was 11.

7) I consider myself incredibly blessed to have found, fallen in love with and married such a wonderful man. How I got to be so lucky, I don't know. These past 7 years have been the best ever, and have gone way too fast.

8) Getting married in Maui is one of the decisions I will never regret. It was the best location to get married and the very best day of my life. It was everything we dreamed of and more. I can't wait for us to go back...

9) I have been blessed with two beautiful daughters, polar opposites in personality, who delight and entertain us in some many amazing ways. I love their snuggles, their little arms around my neck, their kisses, their giggles, their view of the world. They are, in the words of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - truly truly scrumptious...

10) I have a wonderful family that I love very much. I am very close to my sister and always have been. I feel very lucky that family is so important to my Hubby and that I can now call his family my family too.

11) I have collected over the years, the most wonderful assortment of friends, who have been there for me through thick and thin, whom I love dearly and wish that I had more time to spend with them and my family.

12) I love to travel and have seen a lot of the world - but still so much to see. I have walked on 6 of 7 continents. Africa was the most amazing place I have ever been and I would love to go back and experience it all again with Hubby. Seeing the distances that elephants can travel in just a few hours, makes me very sad when I see them at a zoo.

13) I once slept through a stampede involving a mother elephant, her baby, a herd of wildebeast, some lions and a group of hyenas. Apparently it was a pretty scary experience. For those that happened to be awake.

14) An 18 hour overnight train trip through Turkey is not something I would recommend to anyone with the slightest interest in hygiene.

15) In Chile, it is possible to hike up an active volcano covered in snow, and then slide your way back to the bottom. However, it is very important that the man who leads the snowslide down has hips, otherwise the groove in the snow is nowhere near wide enough and every female who follows wears bruises on her hips to show for months. Just saying...

16) I once worked for six months in a scottish castle (Duart Castle) on the Isle of Mull in the Western Hebridean Islands. I can bake killer scones and sensational shortbread. I also proved to myself that it was possible for me to put on weight - as I gained 30 (yes 30) kilos in less than 12 months. We also learnt that the British Army frowns on their soldiers sinking digging machines worth 250,000 pounds and that it is possible for 6 young aussie girls in aprons and kilts to be yelled at by someone very high up in the Army for being responsible for leading a unit of royal engineers astray. But seriously, all we did was bake scones and shortbread and maybe drink a pint or two...

17) Travel taught me that I am more than capable of dealing with the world on my own. My Hubby taught me how much better it is to deal with it with someone by your side. My children have taught me that travel with children is difficult, and unlike the travel of my twenties, it is not even glamourous in retrospect. Usually in retrospect we realise we probably shouldn't have travelled with them at all.

18) I am absolutely obsessed with reading - Hubby reckons I read 15 books to his one. Which probably explains my desire to be, of all things, a librarian. With my own personal library. 

19) I don't think I'll ever get a tattoo but I love to watch Miami Ink, LA Ink and London Ink. If I ever did decide to permanently mark my body that way, I would have to travel to one of those shops to get it done.

20) My temper can get the better of me - especially when I get bad service at food establishments. Hubby calls me Pepper when this happens. I admire him for his ability to stay cool, calm and polite when I just get cranky. Actually that was my former self. Now I am adopting the "Orange Rhino" philosophy - no yelling. Finding my inner calm. Going with the flow. 

21) I have always enjoyed watching and playing sport - but being with Hubby has taken it to an all new level. It is a sad but true fact that I have actually uttered the sentence (more than once)  "I can't wait for the footy season to start".

22) I have learnt that the words 'it's just a game' do not apply in Hubby's world of sport.

23) I have always wanted to be a teacher ( at least since I was 7) and have loved being a teacher for the past 18 years. But now I am embracing the notion of career change of direction and so, in embracing it, I am going back to uni this July. It's not like I'll be busy much in July - just organising a house and family move to Canada. I'm sure I can fit in some study???

24) I hate broccoli and spiders and cockroaches. I refuse to eat all three. Well, actually, I have become flexible with the broccoli. But only the broccoli.

and finally

25) Chocolate, Red Wine, sleeping children, a couch, Hubby and a good TV series (or the footy) are my perfect night in.

So I am off to pour myself a glass of red, get those children off to bed, and start chillin' on the couch.

Have a good (long) weekend

Jen x

The Gift of an Ordinary Day

A few weeks ago, just after Mother's Day, someone I know shared on Facebook a link to a video that had recently gone viral on youtube. I watched it for the first time, lying in bed, about 10pm. I cried the whole way through it. From the other side of the bed, Hubby intently catching up on his latest arsenal/manly/hawthorn/reds/roar/philidephiaeagles/mets news made the comment 'that sounds really depressing'. But the opposite, for me at least, was true.

This video and the message it shared, resonated very deeply with me, and I have thought about it often.

The Gift of an Ordinary Day.

Katrina Kenison is the woman in the video, who has written a book entitled just that "The Gift of an Ordinary Day", and on her website, is the quote "It has taken awhile, but I certainly do know it now - the most wonderful gift I had, the gift I finally learned to cherish above all else, was the gift of all those perfectly ordinary days."

I worry sometimes, that I will have become so bogged down in the day to day life of raising to children, working, running a household, that one day I will wake up, and realise that my children have all grown up and I missed their childhood. Not because I wasn't paying attention - but because it is flying by much much too fast for my liking.

Already, as The Eldest has just turned 4, and The Youngest is about to turn 2, I am packing up all the baby stuff. Selling it, passing it on. The baby stage is now behind us and I feel melancholy - I loved having newborn babies, the smell, the feel the cuddles. I loved watching them change from that little beloved creature that only needed to eat and sleep, into a creature that was aware of it's surroundings, responded to the people around them, starting to laugh, smile, move. And now that stage is gone for us, a door that has closed, just as many many doors are just opening for my children. In many ways we are thankful for that - thankful for not breastfeeding anymore. Thankful for the children who are sleeping through, more often than not. Thankful for words they can use to explain their tears instead of the exasperated moments of 'I haven't a clue why they are crying! They've been fed / burped/ slept/ played with / cuddled / bathed and still they cry!'

Did I appreciate the baby stage enough? Was I as aware of it as I could have been? Did I appreciate the ordinariness of those days?  Looking back on the catalog of photos and how I took thousands of photos of The Eldest and then almost as many of The Youngest, I am confident I did. My babies captivated me, delighted me. I treasured every milestone but did I appreciate the uneventful days as much as I could have?

Now I have a toddler ruling my house in conjunction with a 4 year old. This is the life I have right now. My life - where there are days that do feel like they are going to last forever - and not necessarily for good reasons. Days where I wonder if 10am is too early for a glass of red, and (reluctantly) knowing it is, indulge in my coffee addiction instead. I know this life I have right now, will not last forever. In 12 months time, the 2 year old toddler stage will be behind us, and big school will be before us and more doors will have closed and even more will be opening.

Today was a perfectly ordinary day. We got up, said good bye to Daddy and ate our breakfast while watching Bananas in Pyjamas and Sesame Street. The Youngest and I got dressed and then I had to negotiate/coax/bribe The Eldest into her swimmers for a make-up lesson with her teacher from last year. Bribery required me to take them to have a coffee at the place with the red wiggles car in the local shopping centre. My coffee was full strength, their babycinos were not, and by the time we left many coffee shop patrons had witnessed full-scale war between my children and my calm and rational approach to solving the problems (negotiation/coaxing/bribery). More negotiation/coaxing needed to purchase The Eldest her much needed new boots as she was sulking about me not buying her a smoothie. Purchases complete and we headed back home to put a The Very Grumpy Youngest to bed for her day nap. The Eldest and I then headed outside for an hour of 'fun' washing the dog kennel together and doing some gardening. Somewhere along the way The Youngest woke up and the girls spent the rest of the afternoon playing babies, making coffee, swinging, sliding, jumping and quarrelling.

Will I remember that my two children loved playing in the big red wiggles car while I drank my coffee, not minding that Mumma lied about not having money to throw into making the car move? Or that The Eldest had the time of her life helping me wash the dog kennel ready to sell? That The Eldest was caught wheeling The Youngest around the house in a doll's pram, cackling like maniacs when I caught them in the hallway? Or the way Hubby and the girls hid in their cubby tent while I "searched" the house looking for them because dinner was ready? Probably not. But today I remember, and today I am not taking it for granted.


And so, I am going to try to remember each day from here on in, that the most wonderful gift that I have, is the perfectly ordinary days that I get to spend with my husband and my children. 
Jen x

Because in the end, that's what it's all about. 


Katrina Kenison's homepage

The Gift of an Ordinary Day youtube video