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A Self Portrait

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My idea of the perfect self portrait.


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We've been spending rather a lot of time at the pool this week.

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FOX: I hate to think that there will come a day when you are too big to sleep on Daddy's shoulder.

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LAMB: You want to dress up as a mermaid for Halloween. A Disney mermaid. I suggested a robot or a cowgirl or a policewoman, but no. I told you that you could be whatever you wanted, Halloween is all about you having a bit of fun, after all. So a mermaid it was. My inner feminist wasn't happy but I have to admit, you looked so cute when you tried your costume on (which you had to do the very minute we got home). I couldn't help but smile.

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Her enthusiasm is contagious.


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LAMB: Early in the morning we woke up and looked out the window to see what the weather was like. You have been bugging me to go to the pool for a few days now but the weather has either been foul or we have been too busy to go. Today was another foul weather day. I looked out at the heavy clouds and the strong wind, throwing leaves around like a melodramatic toddler, and an image immediately popped into my head. An image of the perfect photo. You were standing near a lighthouse on an empty headland, the wind tossing your hair about, that wild, beautiful hair of yours. "We need to go to a lighthouse" I announced to your father. He didn't bat an eyelid. He is all too used to my crazy requests and he knows exactly what they mean. Soon after I discovered that the nearest lighthouse is almost an hours drive away, and could not convince him to take us. So we compromised and ended up here; no lighthouse but a windy headland nonetheless. I did not get the perfect photo I had imagined. I doubt a lighthouse would have made much difference. But we had such a great time bushwalking and discovering new tracks that my 'perfect' photo hardly seemed important in the end.

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Excited!
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Some days as a mother just seem to draaaaaag. And I have to admit, I really struggle to find new and inventive ways to keep the little trouble makers entertained. If I'm completely honest, most days I just bundle them into the car and take them to the nearest play center. There, I can find a few seconds of respite in exchange for taking home the latest flu strain or stomach bug (not the best deal I'll admit, but I take what I can get). I order a coffee and lay my weary head on the table. Only then can I relax a bit in the knowledge that the children are not running onto the road or breaking valuable merchandise or falling into a pond or throwing fits in the supermarket because I got them chocolate milk instead of strawberry milk. Today I tried the 'fun mum' thing, I bought some confetti and bubbles (admittedly, the confetti was more about getting some cute photos than anything else) and it was almost worth it to see the excited little look on his face. But (of course) his interest waned after about 30 seconds and I (of course) was left to sweep up thousands of iddy-bitty pieces of confetti that just refused to be swept.

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Letter to Santa

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It was just you and me this afternoon. On the rare occasions that I get time to lavish all my attention on you I’m always shocked by how much more aware and alert you have become, somehow without me even realising. Every time this happens I’m always caught off-guard and I’m suddenly reminded of how fast you are growing up. It’s like I still see you as my baby and I’m too busy to notice that you’re something else now. This is a new thing for me. I had (what now seems like) all the time in the world to sit and play with your sister and I was never caught off-guard in the same manner. I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for not being able to give you the same amount of attention. It makes the loss of your babyhood all the more painful for me.

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Playing with daddy's glasses.


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Her 'Tweasures'

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LAMB: I collected all manner of curiosities form your pockets at the end of every day this week, bits and bobs that you had secretly squirreled away. You do this all the time but I made an effort this week to save and record them. I ended up with this collection of random artifacts. Many would regard this hoard as junk, but to you they are your 'tweasures'.



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Peekaboo
Peekaboo

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FOX: Playing peekaboo. You try to cover your face with your hands but your hands don't quite reach your eyes so you avert your gaze. You think this means we can't see you.


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Watching the approaching storm.

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FOX: Another warm, sunny day and another trip to the pool. You've become wary of water recently, you've developed a love-hate relationship with it. You love nothing more than to slash around in it with your feet and hands, just so long as it doesn't touch your face and is never deeper than knee height. Washing your hair is pretty much impossible at the moment. Luckily your a boy and you can pull off that unkempt look.

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First trip to the pool for the season. The weather is warming up.


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As much as I have a healthy loathing for summer, I love spring. While summer means sucking ice cubes and sticking to leather couches through forty-odd degree heatwaves, spring is perfect for lying around on the beach, slurping milkshakes, bushwalking and picking wild flowers. We have hauled the giant plastic clam out of the garage and it's now a permanent fixture in our *backyard. When it's hot enough the kids have fun splashing around in it while I lie on the swinging granny seat until the sun goes down and the mosquitoes force us to retreat inside. Oh, how I love spring.

*I say backyard but it's really just a small slab of concrete outside our flat with a lovely view of the garbage bins. But we love it all the same.


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LAMB: We left daddy at home and went to the park this morning. You picked a pretty flower that caught your eye and whispered: "It's for Daddy, it's a surprise". You then proceeded to walk all the way home with the flower safely hidden behind your back. Just in case.