It's all in the socks

My name is Catherine and my children don't wear matching socks.

There I have said it.

This is mostly because I am too lazy to match their socks. Life is too short. This is my excuse and I am sticking to it. This does not affect my life, but it does surprise me that other people find this so traumatising.

I am not against matching socks. My socks always match. I  don't like wearing mismatching socks, they feel funny. But if the girls can't be bothered wearing matching socks, that is their choice. Unless it is ANZAC Day (or other important Guide occasion), or school photo day then I do insist on them. Ok there may be a few other times, but I can't think of any at the moment.

This has had some side effects:

1. They also don't wear matching ear-rings (this is a plus: lost ear-rings don't matter in our house unless they are mine. I get upset);
2. The Pixie has argued with Guide leaders about whether it meets uniform standards if both socks were white but clearly not matching (it wasn't an important occasion);
3. When I do want them to wear matching socks I pretty much always have to buy more socks; and
4. The Pixie once got a 'Shining Star' certificate because it was the first time the teacher had seen her wearing matching socks (she told me afterwards they weren't actually matching but she didn't want to disappoint him).

An occasion where the girls were all randomly wearing matching socks.
They insisted I took a photo.
 

This post was inspired by an awesome article I read the other day about a Dad's point of view on his son wearing dresses. To me, this is parenting at its finest. He thinks about what he wants to teach his kids, and overcomes his own discomfort about the judgment from people who don't matter anyway. (Some of the comments by readers distressed me from the point of view that we still have so far to go in equal treatment of the sexes, but that is a whole other post).

My girls have dressed themselves, and picked their own clothes, from the time they were tiny. There were rules. It had to be weather appropriate. Some days Mummy got a say so if you wanted that top it meant one of these bottoms and vice versa. Some days what Mummy said wasn't negotiable, but most days they got to pick their own. This meant that when I did want a final say there was very little argument, because it wasn't normally an issue.

Buglet was given two silky nighties for her second birthday. Buglet loved silky things. She was particularly impressed by this present. So impressed that she insisted on wearing one of them pretty much every day over her clothes. Some people were horrified. I still don't get it.

Once Tink decided to dress herself she decided she was going to do it well. Properly meant as many clothes as was deemed appropriate by Tink. She did not consider herself properly dressed unless she was wearing leggings, skirt, t-shirt, dress and a jumper (for example, but always something along those lines). When you are good at something, you should do it to the best of your ability. Tink was about 20 months when she mastered this skill.

A little bit later Tink developed her own theories on what "matched". There was one particular occasion where she was wearing a pink and purple stripy top, black and white stripy leggings, and two different stripy socks. Tink's version was that they clearly went together because they were all stripy.

Tink's school photo from Kindy features her with her hair ribbons undone. I had gone out and bought the girls new ribbons for their school photos. Tink was adamant that they were prettier undone flowing with her pig-tails. That was 9 years ago and I still smile every time I look at that photo. It is a real snap shot of my Tink.

Why does this matter? Honestly, despite what some people think, it doesn't. If it makes you and your family happy, and it isn't hurting anyone, it is the right decision for you. This goes for either point of view.

For me, I think that giving the girls the freedom to express themselves (with some guidance) when they were little, has given them confidence to express themselves now. Even now, I bite my tongue (most times) if they are wearing something that I just don't like. What it has also meant is that if I say they are not to wear something because I think it is inappropriate, they mostly listen. I am a little bit proud of myself for having a 15 year old who accepts my "rules" when it comes to some types of clothing and will get changed if I tell her to. I am more proud of the fact that most of the time they dress appropriately for their age and for the occasion. I am super proud of them for dressing to please themselves and in what makes them comfortable. Confidence in themselves and comfortable with how they look, isn't that what we want for our children?

Disclaimer

1. The big two might actually wear matching socks more often than not now, I haven't noticed for a while.
2. I am actually wearing one pink and one purple bed sock. I bought a set of two pairs, but I can only find one of each colour. I blame the children.

Facebook: The case in support

There are a lot of arguments against facebook, in particular that it is possibly one of the biggest aids to procrastination that this century has produced.

It doesn't suit everyone, and that is fine. If it doesn't make your life a happier place, it may not be the right thing for you. I could just as easily write 'The case against Facebook', there is definitely a case for that too.

My darling youngest daughter might think I like arguing (my parents and sisters probably also agree). However, I would like it on the record that the fact I don't actually enjoy arguing for the sake of it, I have spent a lot of time and effort (not to mention incurring a stupidly big HECs debt) learning how to present both sides of an argument. This is very useful, if somewhat annoying (to me, and I imagine to other people), and if anything means I argue less because I don't often bother discussing things if people are incapable of considering things from a different point of view. Or it could be because I am lazy these days.

But today, I am arguing in favour of facebook. Today, the Entourage were home alone. After feeling a little ignored and anxious all day (in between stressing over work), I posted this status: Reasons to have facebook: Your teenage children will like/comment on posts even when they don't reply to text messages or call you.

Subtle much?

It also reminded me of the Buglet's first babysitting experience. I went to my primary school reunion two years ago. This meant travelling to Kalgoorlie, so I booked us into a hotel just down the road from the adult only evening event with strict instructions to call me if they needed me for anything. Within five minutes Buglet had the laptop connected to the internet (even though I had spent half an hour trying and gave up), and was on facebook. I got a text message later from one of my best friends telling me not to worry, if anything went wrong facebookworld would know because she would suddenly stop appearing in their newsfeeds and someone would ring me. How helpful is that?!

Pixie is a little addicted to seeing how many likes our facebook blog page has (she isn't allowed facebook yet, but she likes to check up and see via my page).

Tink is a binge facebooker. I will get massively excited because I suddenly have 20 plus notifications, to find they are all from Tink. At least she likes me enough to facebook stalk me. This is a good thing right?

Apparently being a facebook addict is hereditary.

I love this top. I don't wear it in public, but I have it hidden just in case Buglet tries to claim it.

So here are my top 10 reasons for loving facebook:

1. I am really busy. I use facebook to keep up to date with people who matter to me. I know it isn't the most personal method, but I feel more connected, and often I can read between the lines and make sure there are more personal messages, calls and visits too. Facebook chat is great for every day conversations as well as for proper letter-type messages. I also have depression. For me part of this manifests in anxiety and feeling guilty if I don't catch up with people. I know, egocentric much?
2. One of the hardest thing about being a single parent is that you don't have someone at home to share the little things with. I noticed this a lot when I was on my own when my big two were babies. I haven't felt that as much this time. Partly because I have super awesome friends who I text and share all my news with, but partly because thanks to facebook I get to share my proud mama moments without feeling like I am harassing anyone.
3. I wouldn't have called myself an attention seeker, but I have a sneaking suspicion that I might be (Blogging about my life?! This may also be a sign). Hmm .... also see point 1.
4. I like writing. I get a lot of enjoyment out of writing (what I think are) entertaining updates.
5. I make a genuine effort to focus on the positives in my life. This is a big part of the way I handle my life. Facebook helps me channel the positives.
6. I love seeing pictures and hearing stories about all the adventures other people have. Sometimes it is inspiring, other times it is just fun to live vicariously through other peoples holidays.
7. I have had a chance to connect with family members who live in the Eastern states. I grew up on the other side of the country to most of them and we haven't seen much of each other since annual visits in primary school. I have had two families of cousins come to stay with me in the last few years, and thanks to facebook it hasn't felt like strangers.
8. I like reading random things and I am insanely nosey.
9. I am a massive procrastinator.
10. It is another way I can communicate with my teenagers, and anything that helps us bond in a positive way has to be a good thing in at least some ways.

But in addition to using facebook to parent, I am also a big fan of bribery. I told the girls if they were good today and didn't fight, I would take them to get some dvds out tonight. Pixie also did an amazing job of not annoying her sick sisters and she cleaned her room so it is spotless! This feels frozen-coke-spider worthy. (I am ignoring the fact I have been asking her to do this for weeks, today she did it without being asked .... so let's focus on the positives!).

You win some, you lose some

It is school holidays here at the moment. And I am one sad Mama. Not because it is school holidays, but because I am grumpy I am at work when the girls are at home.

My work has a purchased leave scheme, which is amazingly useful when you have school aged children. For a few years I was lucky enough to be able to take off all of the two-week school holidays and half of the Christmas school holidays and be home with the children. Work still has the scheme, but my role has changed to the point where my workload means it is too hard to take that much leave.

I am also super lucky that now the girls are bigger it isn't too hard to find the balance between leaving them at home, having people drop in and visit them for a few hours, and I have some wonderful people in my life who always ask if they can have them during school holidays for part of the time. I am truly blessed to have these people, and to have an amazing flexible work place that has let me develop my career around my family, so please don't for one minute think I am ungrateful. But I am still a sad Mama.

This week I have left for work leaving my babies all snuggled up in bed asleep (ok this might be more jealous then sad).

Sunday night
Buglet: What time are you leaving for work tomorrow?
Me: Between 6 and 6:30.
Buglet: Don't wake me up then.
Tink: Me either.
Pixie: Goodnight-goodmorning-Iloveyou-goodbye!

Then to make it worse, Monday night Buglet politely requested that I didn't text her until I had heard from them as I had woken her up. Humph.

Then when I get home I get to hear about all the fun things they have done, often with with my friends. I  happen to love spending school holidays at home with the girls. No work, no dancing/soccer/Guides and I get to catch up friends and catch up on housework. A change is definitely a good holiday.

There has also been a definite decline in the amount of housework I do now I don't get to spend two weeks out of twelve at home. I am not devastated about that so much, I don't miss the doing housework, but my house may be devastated about how neglected it is.

Admittedly, I am learning to delegate the housework. Yesterday I told the girls that if they cleaned the bathroom, the kitchen and their rooms we would go to Sizzlers for dinner. Definitely worth the bribe. Even the Pixie got right into it and her sisters were very good at making sure I knew exactly how hard she had worked so I could be properly appreciative. No idea why it worked so well this time. It is a bit hit and miss, I am wondering if it is because I told them by text message so they had it in writing? I may have to experiment more.

Tonight I abandoned Buglet and Tink at a church camp for four days. Pixie has gone to spend two nights with her Auntie and Uncle and their babies. She is a bit worried. The youngest is only a few weeks old and the big one is (almost) two. The concern is that they might cry at her and that babies don't like her. This might be something to do with her disdain for small babies because they take all the attention (and I quote, this is usually her big complaint about babies). Personally I think she is going to have a wonderful time. And I think it will be a great chance for her to play with Master 2 without Tink. Tink is beyond amazing with babies and children, I call her the 'Baby Whisper', but it does mean that Pixie hasn't had much experience with them.

I had to laugh though. I came home to this note after abandoning the infants ......

Tink didn't even trust me enough for that. The last thing she told me was that she'd put it in the lounge, on charge, and that she had the only game on it all ready for me. Today's confession: I discovered some-game-I-can't-remember-the-name-of (Farm something?) over the weekend and I am slightly addicted. I am feeling very loved (and I am ignoring the slight feeling of being patronised because I am used to that. Put it this way, they've all had folders on their home screen called "Mum's games" because that is about the only bit I can get to without being confused).

So why I have a quiet house, I am going to stop whinging, and be thankful for some guilt-free study time (as well as for all the things listed above). I only have one more assignment to go after this one so I am a little bit excited!

I hope you are all having a wonderful week, and that you are finding rainbows in all this rain.

Cath xx

PS if you were wondering about what happened with Spike, the vet found his owners and he is home safely.

It's too late Mummy ...

For those of you who read my last post about Pixie's career plans, tonight's post is on Buglet's progression of career goals.

When they tiny my favourite bit is that their plans always included being a mum and a Guide leader as well. In my good moments it is massively reassuring that they want to follow in my footsteps; in my bad moments I worried that this was the only way they thought they would see enough of me! These days they are much more articulate about being happy with my parenting/work/life balance.

My first recollection of Buglet's and job plans was when she was in year 1. They did a series of activities on all the different activities, and every day she came home with things: nurses bag, police officers badge, you know the things. Attempting to be a good parent I was telling her she could be anything she wanted when she grew up, and to prove my point I told her that I was going to be a pirate when I grew up. Buglet looked at me very sadly and said "It's too late for you to be a pirate Mummy. You're already grown up, but you can dress up and pretend to be one if you like". Seriously squashed by the child.

A pirate costume is still one of my favourite dress-ups though, and it is what I wore to a friend's 30th party a couple of years ago when the theme was "what you want to be when you grow up". Pirate costumes are much more fun than lawyer costumes.

Being supportive and making Mummy a parrot to go with her pirate costume :)

For ages Buglet's plan was to learn to be a life guard and that was going to be her job while she was going through uni learning to be a vet. On weekends she was going to teach dance. I love that there is not only goals, there are steps in place of what she was going to do when you are getting to those goals. They do say that a goal is a dream with a date, and think that same concept applies to dreams with a plan.

Late last year I had the revelation that these conversations with Buglet were suddenly real. Not just maybe ... one day ... you can do whatever you want conversations, but actual real conversations that are at the point where she is about to make big decisions. I have already blogged about freaking out over her selecting subjects for upper school. Me, not her; she is ok!

Today I met with her teachers at school and freaked out again. Her social studies teacher (now called "society and environment" just to show I am up with the change in terminology) made me feel better when I was stressing about not pushing her into history just because it is my subject. Massively thankful for comment that I had my head screwed on right, and thankful that this teacher could see through the panic to appreciate that my concern is to support them make their own decisions and not to push them in a direction that I think they should be taking. My parents are very good role models for this, so I am thankful for them too.

Recently she has been thinking about teaching (dance and/or primary school and/or English and/or maths), or physiotherapy, or dance therapy ... I guess only time will tell. Now just to calm down, relax, and remind myself that it will all work out and that there are lots of different pathways to get where you want to go. These are all things I tell other people, now I just need to remind myself.

Ode to my nieflings

This post has been a couple of weeks in the making. I started it, and couldn't work out a way to say what I meant without sounding totally soppy and silly. I pretty much gave up and just wrote.

Niefling or nibling (or a few other spelling variations) is a gender neutral term for your nieces and nephews. It is also a very useful term when there is a new baby on the way and you don't know the gender. Discovering this word made me so incredibly happy that you cannot imagine. I do have fondness for fun words.

One of the joys of big families is lots of nieflings, and I have been lucky enough to obtain some of mine in unusual ways. Currently I have two nieces, seven nephews, and another niece and nephew on the way. I also have six god-children, and an assortment of other children in my life who I love.

This post was inspired by DB's step-sister's baby shower the other weekend. Due to unforseen circumstances I couldn't make it, but I had to laugh at the girls' stories when they got home! Buglet won the bottle sucking competition (I dread to think what this may imply for later years), and Tink won a baby-shower version of celebrity heads (all those years at Guides must have paid off). The Pixie was highly indignant that her clever plan hadn't worked. She had decided that if she measured around her Dad's tummy that would be the perfect way of predicting the girth of her pregnant aunt.

I have been lucky enough that I have come by my nieflings in some non-traditional ways. But every single time I have got the news that I was going to be an aunt again, the joy has been the same:

• the phone calls from one of my sisters telling me that she was pregnant;
• the phone call from my other sister telling me that she was fostering a little boy (twice), and the phone call telling me that she has him now and for the foreseeable future (twice);
• the mimed actions of DB when he was on the phone to his brother saying that they were having a baby, and the term auntie being used after DB and I had broken up letting me know that I was still family;
• the invitation to my nephew's christening addressed to "Auntie Cath" from DB's step-sister when I had no idea if I got to be auntie to her children too;
• the news "you're going to be an auntie again" from two of my best friends (even if it took me a minute to work it out because I was too busy being annoyed thinking DB had told them about one if his siblings before me); and
• the excited text message from my mother-in-law.

Regardless of how they are mine, and regardless of how often I see them, and I don't get to see any of them as often as I would like, I absolutely adore every single one of them and my house is full with photos as testimony to this!

One of the best things is that my three youngest sisters haven't had children yet and considering the youngest one is only 14 I am hoping that I will have a few more to add to the mix over the coming years. Not that I am greedy or anything. I might be done with having my own children, but I am certainly not done with other people having babies for me to play with!

I hope the rest of my life is filled with cuddles, and pictures and small people to love. Things like this are some of my most treasured possessions, and as long as I love them and they love me, I don't mind how I get them. The nieflings I mean, not the pictures. Although I do love the pictures too!

And in the theme of the post, a joke, told to me by Buglet. Buglet also told DB, who thought it was funny enough to tell me too. She really does have her father's sense of humour.

There was woman who fell into a coma while she was pregnant with twins. After the babies were born the doctors asked her brother to name the babies. When she woke up she asked her brother what he had named her daughter. He replied "Denise". "Fair enough," she said, "and what did you name my son?" "De nephew".

I promise you all now, that if I am ever in the position of naming any of my nieflings, I won't play mean jokes with their names.

I've got your back

Random story 1: A little while ago I posted this on facebook:

Dear Buglet, Tink and Pixie
I don't care how old you are, I will be there for every first and every last, in person or by proxy, cheering you on, laughing at you and crying with you. I am your mother and no-one will ever love you as much as I love you, and no-one will ever have your back like I do. So toughen up and smile for the photo! I will still be doing this when you're at uni (however many times you are there).
Love,
Mummy xxx

I wanted a picture on the last day of school, especially as it was Tink's last day of primary school, and I was going to get it! Similar arguments occurred on the first day of this year. You think they would learn.



Back to school picture ..........get it?!
 

Just in case you care, Pixie's bag lights up if you hit it. This makes me so incredibly happy.

Random story 2: I was trying to explain the meaning of the word "sacrifice" to the girls in a non-actually-killing-something-or-someone way. Pixie, being a ethical vegetarian, was not particularly happy when her sisters pointed out sacrificing didn't mean killing a person, sometimes it meant killing an animal.

I can't remember how it came up. I think one of them had read the term in a book.

My explanation did not go quite according to plan either. I was trying to explain that sacrifice can mean giving up something for someone else.

Me: Like some people might say I sacrificed family time and being home with you three for my career.
Insert chorus of angry protests from the Entourage.
Buglet *angrily*: Who said that?!
Me: No-one said that! It was an example.

I try again.

Me: Or to put it the other way, some people might say I sacrificed my career by working part-time so I could be home with you three when you were little.
Insert chorus of angry protests from the Entourage.
Me: No-one actually said that either! But I am glad you guys think I am doing a good job.

The bit where I link in these two random stories: We did get there eventually, but it is nice to know they have my back too.I must being teaching them something .... right?!

In a world where it is easy to let down the people you care about the most, either on deliberately or carelessly, I am just so glad that they realise they are my number one priority (97.5% of the time). I just hope that I am never the one that lets them down.

Attempt at a meaningful conclusion: One of my most favourite facebook memes that goes around says: "One day someone will come along and hug you so hard that all your broken bits will be stuck back together". I hope no-one ever breaks them, but if they do, I hope they know that someone will fix them.

As for me, I am so, so, so thankful for the friends who have been there to put me back together.

Random real conclusion: Aren't you all glad we talk in the car? I feel this blog would be a lot less "philosophical" without our car conversations. Some days I think we should stick to singing though. My brain isn't always up to parenting explanations after a day of work.

And now I need to go. Pixie has just come running in to ask do I think Flip-Flop has an opinion. I am not sure on what, but my current opinion is that the Pixie should be a sleeping Pixie and that I need to attack the pile of washing I left last night.