Magic Monday

It's easy to get bogged down in the yucky things.

Even if you try your darndest, as I do, to pay attention to all that is lovely and magical about the world, some particularly trying days life just gets on top of you.

I had one of those days yesterday. A migraine, a broken tumble dryer, a sore chest and a lingering feeling of erk conspired to make me, well, a bit of a grumpy gremlin really.

But then, Tiger, Husband Bear and I went for a walk in the sunshine. We went to the park and we sat below a tree and we watched as our little girl gazed up at the dappling light between the leaves and played with grass and was fascinated by sticks, and HB and I chatted about this and that and enjoyed our little sunbeaming nook of the world ...

And the erk faded.

Later, we went coffee-shopping and for a drive down the beautiful, sparkling river and then we went supermarketeering and, in all of this, there was so much magic.

It only takes a small thing - a sunbeam or a smiling baby or, in Tiger's case, a particularly enthralling stick - to turn a frowning day into a smiling one.

This morning, for me, it was my little girl doing her valiant best to sit up all by her little self. She's close. I think she could do it, but she loses confidence after a while and hurls herself backwards with frightening velocity. So we only try it when Mummy is there to catch her when she falls. This morning, though, as we read together while the sun rose, she sat up by her little self for the full duration of Hairy MacLary's Bone.

She's getting there, my brave, determined, clever little poppet.

And watching her as she does is perfectly magic.

I'd love it if you'd share some of your magic with me and everyone who reads this blog. You never know, it could be your magic moment that makes someone else's day a smiling one.

And wouldn't that be lovely?

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

Am I Less of a Mother?

I do not look like a mummy.

It seems like such a very silly thing to be concerned about when you think of all we've been through: the frightening pregnancy, the emergency birth, the weeks of tiny Tiger fighting to grow and be strong, the breastfeeding issues, the illness ...

The fact that I do not look like a conventional mother? It seems ridiculous that it even enters my consciousness. But it's true and it does and, for some reason it breaks my heart a little bit.

I am thin. Not emaciated thin, but definitely "gee, you're so tiny" thin. So thin that the office lady at my old school (where I went this week to conduct workshops), commented, "You still look exactly the same as you did when you were thirteen. Still a string bean".

So thin that, when Tiger was still new and very small, people would often say, "No wonder she's so small. Look at you!"

That hurt. Because I already felt as if my body had failed Tiger. And now it was as if all these comments confirmed it.

Later, I was so thin that a so-called "breastfeeding expert" commented that the reason Tiger and I were struggling to feed was because I didn't have "adequate fat stores".

And yesterday, a well-meaning and lovely stranger said, "She's such a big baby! I would have thought she'd be tiny, considering the size of you. You don't look like you've had a baby at all! You don't look like a mother".

And even though I knew she didn't mean anything bad by it, that comment stung as well.

Because being a mother is all I want to be. And I want to look like one.

I put on nearly twenty kilograms in the thirty two weeks I was pregnant. I loved it. I loved feeling - for the first time in my life - "womanly".

A week after Tiger was born, ten kilograms were gone.

And now, another five and, despite trying as hard as I can to "maintain my fat stores", I am now nearly as small as before I fell pregnant. And I no longer look "womanly".

I am, in Husband Bear's words, back to being a "runt".

And yes, I know it's stupid to care. And yes, I know Tiger doesn't care at all what I look like, so neither should I. And yes, I also know that now I'm not breastfeeding any more the weight might creep back on. 

I hope it does.

And it's not something I think about every day - really only when it's brought back to my attention by a passing comment - but it is always there, hovering in the back of my mind: 

I am less of a mother because I look this way.

And, worse, I will be a bad role model for Tiger if I continue to look this way. Because what if she sees me and thinks she should be thin too? What if she thinks this is an ideal?

I'm going to try not to think of it. I'm going to try, instead, to concentrate solely on my Tiger. I am going to watch her as she obsessively blows big, gloopy, noisy bubbles and I am going to remember that what I look like doesn't make me the mother I am. And it's not all about me. 

It's about her.

And she, literally, couldn't care less what Mummy looks like, as long as she's smiling.

And smiling I do often. How could I not, when I have a little girl who is so unfailingly lovely?

~ Love, Miss Cackle

Literary Baby*

  My baby is going to b e a poet when she grows up.

Actually, she could be a basketballer. Or a scientist. Or a hairdresser. Or work in a lolly shop. Or make necklaces out of pieces of broken vintage crockery. 

I don't actually mind. As long as she's happy, I don't mind what job she has (unless it's TOO dangerous - if she decided to become one of those people who disables landmines in scary countries, I might have a few quibbles about that).

But last night, Tiger did show signs of a future love of things literary.

It was The Tall Man's book launch and it was decided that Tiger should attend. Sure, it would mean over an hour of standing around, during which Tiger could not ROLL and WRIGGLE. Sure, much of that hour would be taken up by poetry readings and speeches, during which Tiger could not SQUEAL and MAKE LOUD BUBBLE-BLOWY NOISES. But Tiger needs to get used to going to events like this. She'll be going to many more in the future!

And so we went along, to the upstairs space in the Former Employer Bookshop. And Tiger was duly fussed over by men and women, young and old, who gooed and gahed and stroked her little cheek and held her little hand and were rewarded with stellar Tiger Smiles. And all was good and easy during this phase of the evening because Tiger had Lots Of People to look at and be distracted by.

But then the "proper bit" of the event began. Speeches. Poetry. And Tiger ...

Was awesome. 

She looked up at me, and around, and silently took it all in. When the poetry was going on, she listened intently. When the clapping happened, she kicked her legs and giggled - Tiger Applause. 

There was not one grizzle. Not one squeal. Not in the whole hour we stood still and silent.

And I was so proud. 

My little girl is growing up. And she seems to like poetry. Well, she likes good poetry, anyway. And The Tall Man makes darn good poetry (read more about it here).

And Tiger might end up being an acrobat, or a florist, or a milliner, or a quantity surveyor, but she might also share a love of literature that has been passed down from both her mother's parents and her father's.

One day, we might share our favourite books, the way I do with my parents and parents-in-law.

Until then, I might start interspersing Hairy MacLary with some Auden or Keats or Hughes. See how she goes. Sharing poetry with my daughter could well be another one of the lovely things we do together.

Or it might be a dismal failure. She might just have a crush on The Tall Man. Whatever the case, last night, with my daughter, in a room full of words, was bliss-makingly lovely.

* The title of this blog post comes from this song. Which I will now have stuck in my head For All Eternity.

FFS Friday - the "experiment" edition

Yesterday, Tiges and I decided to try a little experiment.

Every day, we go for a walk together to the Tram Place and back. Tiger loves feeling the wind on her little face and taking a stickybeak at life and all its wonder. Flowers are fascinating to Tiger. Trees are marvellous and magical. A loud bicycle bell is the funniest thing Of All Time. 

For Cackle Mummy, it's a daily lesson in taking notice of the small things; the things that might seem mundane and unimportant; the things you pass by without even noticing, when you're in a hurry to get someplace. Cackle Mummy loves these walks for this very reason.

But yesterday, Tiger and I realised something. In noticing the flowers and birds and ladybugs, we were neglecting to notice some things - or someones that we passed every day.

The road we walk along is a busy one and bustling with people. Tiger and I have been so lost in our own little world of Us that we haven't really paid them much attention.

So yesterday, inspired by a blog post from Poppy S, we decided to try out a little experiment. We decided to smile or say "hello" to every person we passed on the Very Long Road.

We were quite excited about our New Little Plan, and set out with smiles on our faces.

And you might be wondering where the FFS (For Fish Fingers' Sake) comes in all of this.

It comes here:

Out of all the people we smiled at, or said "hello" to on the Very Long Road - and there were perhaps twenty or thirty in all - only one said "hello" back.

And no, it was not the old lady in the cardigan and pearls. It was not the respectable-looking businessman. It was not the fellow mother with a baby Tiger's age in a pram.

It was a young fellow, maybe sixteen or seventeen, in baggy pants and a gangster-brand cap, perched upon a tiny bicycle and chugging on a can of Red Bull. Cackle Mummy was, in fact, a bit afraid of saying "hello" to this boy, as he seemed a little bit scary, with the tattoo on his bicep, on display beneath the arm-hole of a ratty "wife-beater".

But, in the interests of the experiment, we did indeed say "hello" and, in return, we received a beaming smile and a cheery "G'day. Good day for a walk, eh?"

And Cackle Mummy and Tiger were chuffed. Finally, someone said "hello". And nicely, too. 

To the rest of those people - the ones who failed to even acknowledge us?

FFS to you!

But we didn't let it get to us too badly, Tiges and I. We didn't slink home, dejected and defeated.

Instead, we went and sat in a sunbeam.

And it was lovely.

~ Love, Miss Cackle

PS: For more FFS Friday, go to http://www.dearbabyg.com/

Thankful Thursday: A sad day for Cackle Mummy

 

Yesterday was a day of mixed emotions for the Little Family.

I was very excited to be going back to my old school, to work with a gorgeous group of talented grade seven writers. It's always super lovely going back to The Best School Ever, and working with young people is always a privilege and a pleasure. This group was no exception. They were super talented and enthusiastic and we had a great day. I hope to have some of their work up on my Proper Professional Website very soon.

In all, it was a very happy-making time, sitting in that room with those great kids for much of the day.

But therein also lies the sadness of yesterday. 

"Much of the day".

"Much of the day", spent in the company of brilliant students, meant "much of the day" without my Tiger.

It was the longest stretch of time I have spent without my poppet since she was born. And it was haaarrrrdddd.

I felt like I was missing a limb. I felt like part of my heart was elsewhere. I felt, all day, as if I was not a whole person.

And if that sounds unforgivably soppy, I'm very sorry.

It would have been much worse if kind Daddy Bear (Tiger Primary Carer for the day) had not given into Cackle Mummy's pleadings that Tiger be brought in for a visit during the lunch break. It meant the day was harder for Daddy Bear as he had to spend much of it in the car, but there is Absolutely No Way I would have got through those hours without that golden forty minutes of hand-holding with my girl.

And at the end of the day - oh, to see Daddy Bear and my little girl (wearing a sun hat and a big smile), standing in a sunbeam outside the admin block!

My heart sang.

And the smile she gave me ...

Oh, I can't even describe it.

Any thoughts I may have entertained of weekend work evaporated yesterday. I thought I would be fine with leaving Tiger if it was with Daddy Bear, and one day I might be, but not yet.

Today, we will spend the day cuddling, and I will kiss her fuzzy head and we will have so many games and roly-polies and I will savour every single second, even more, because I know now what time spent without her feels like.

Even though it was a wonderful day, today will be better, because I have my Tiger back, and life with her is lovely.

So today, what am I thankful for? I'm thankful for great students, a wonderful school, lovely office ladies and teachers who asked to see my Tiger, a darling, generous Daddy Bear, but most of all I am thankful for that end-of-day smile. I am thankful for the little hand that gripped my finger all the way home. I am thankful for big blue eyes gazing up at my face. I am thankful for the love my girl has brought to my life. She gives me so much every day and I am utterly besotted by her.

I promise next week I will think of something to be thankful for that doesn't involve Tiger! 

~ Love, Miss Cackle

PS: For some non-Tiger thankfulness, go to http://www.weheartlife.com/

The Needle and the Damage Done

Today, Tiger will be having her six month immunisations.

I am scared.

It is the first time that Tiger and I will be doing the needle stuff all by our little selves. Prior to today, Husband Bear has always come with us. He is the sensible one. He is the stoic one. He is the "she'll-be-fine" one.

I am made of mush.

My heart breaks a little bit whenever I see my little girl in pain. I hate it when she cries. My entire body aches with her.

But I have to be strong. I have to be smiley and happy and not-at-all-how-I-actually-feel-which-is-terrified.

Tiger needs this.

She needs me to be the tough one. Guess this is what being a "grown-up" is about, huh? I always wondered about that ...

Yesterday, the immunisation debate was all over the news. I winced every time I saw or read something about it. It was a constant reminder of what Tiger will go through today.

But I winced more when I heard the statistic that one in twelve Australian children today is not vaccinated. 

I always say I respect the rights of parents to choose how they raise their child, but that figure does frighten me. Because the choice to not vaccinate your child doesn't only affect your child. It affects other children. Selfishly, I think, it might affect my Tiger.

Vaccination is so important. A world where vaccines do not exist is a hellish one.

Which is why, even though it will break my heart to see that big needle jabbing into my tiny girl; why it will devastate me to see her in pain, today we're going to get the needle. Because the damage done if we don't is far worse.

And afterwards, we will go for a walk and have some food and have a play and a cuddle, and Cackle Mummy will make everything lovely again. Because that is my job.

~ Love, Miss Cackle

Just Another Magic Monday

It's that time again! Monday! Hurrah!

"What's that?" I hear you say (I also hear less gentle, more expletive-laden responses to my previous statement, but I'll not repeat those here). "A Hurrah for a Monday? Why, this blogger is a most peculiar specimen indeed!"

I agree that Monday is not, traditionally, a hurrah-day. There are no TGIM memes, and the Boomtown Rats never sang, "I absolutely adore Mondays", did they?

But Mondays COULD have at least a little bit of Hurrah, if we'd only let them. Perhaps they're tired of being the Grumpy in the Seven Dwarves of days. Perhaps they've always, secretly, been longing to be Happy!

And maybe it's an unrealistic dream for poor Monday, but there is a way we can make this most downtrodden of days a little bit less yucky. All we need to do is find that small sliver of magic sparkle amongst the gloom.

So here is what I'm asking:

Today, keep an eye out for that one small thing that makes your Monday less manic and more magic. It could be a tiny thing: a long hot shower at the end of a long day, listening for awhile to your favourite radio station, putting an extra spoonful of Milo in your milk. Whatever it is, take note of it and let me know. We can all share the magic bits of our Mondays and help each other to find a smile amidst the Monday frowns.

What do you say? I'd love it if you'd help me find the magic in Mondays!

And what's my Magic Moment?

It happened very early in the day - about two am. Usually, after I do Tiger's middle-of-night feed, Bear gets up and we pass the baton. I go back to bed for another three hours and he sits up for the ten minutes or so it takes to settle Tiger.

See, usually, Tiger sees Daddy as "sleep" and Mummy as "play", so it takes Mummy a lot longer to settle Tiges. Also, Mummy often has a migraine in the middle of the night, so this is just a system we have set up that benefits everyone.

BUT!

This morning, Mummy settled Tiger all by her good self. Sure it took a bit longer than it would have taken Daddy Bear, and sure she woke up again just as Mummy was putting her into her cot BUT she went back to sleep ALL BY HER LITTLE SELF.

And Mummy was all, like, "Yeah, I got this. Don't need nobody else 'cos I am the settling QUEEN!"

And, as she sneakily got up to check her Tiger was, indeed, beautifully asleep, her heart almost burst with love for her tiny, clever thing.

One arm up.

One arm down.

Little rosebud mouth half open and snuffling.

Cackle Mummy thought she really did have the most magical thing in the world, lying in front of her. And the loveliest.

What's your magic moment?

~ Love, Miss Cackle