What Easter Means To Us

The Smallest Bilby and the Easter Tale - Nette Hilton and Bruce Whatley

The Little Family is not a religious one. We are not "conventional" in our beliefs.

We will raise Tiger to be respectful of the observations of others, to be questioning, curious and open-minded about the issue of belief. Cackle Mummy and Daddy Bear may differ on our ideas on spirituality and God, but we are united in the decision that we will tell Tiger what we believe, but encourage her to make up her own mind.

Because we are not practising Christians, we did not go to Church over the Easter weekend.

Instead, we did visited the place that's most important to us. Or, should I say the places. Because there were a few, with only one thing in common: there was family there.

Family is our Church. Family is what matters most to us. And so it was only natural that we spent this rare time away with those we adore.

We went on Easter Sunday (after a special Easter breakfast treat of chocolate custard), to stay at (code name) Scotland Place, on the coast where we grew up. We dropped our gear and then nipped out to visit Auntie I, Uncle K and LFM (Little Ford Man), who were also being visited by Poppy S and Nanna L-L. While Tiger and LFM couldn't hug like they did last time, because of Tiger's cold, it was still fun watching their fascination with each other. And Tiger got hugs and beard-pulls with Poppy S AND membership to a special Tiger club, courtesy of her proud grandfather.

After many cuddles, we returned to Scotland Place. We walked around the paddocks, Daddy Bear rowed on the dam, we shared a beautiful meal together and then we watched our version of religious programming together:

Doctor Who.

We spent the next day in happy companionship with Gran and Granda, Sammy the dog, Annie the cat, Pedro, Belle, Jedda and Benito the horses, chickens, ducks and a few crazy turbo chooks.

Then we headed back to the Ditch, where we met in the Gorge Grandma V, Uncle R and his gorgeous partner, Spunky Miss S. Brave Uncle R and SMS went on the chairlift, while the rest of us visited fairies in the Fairy Dell, and Tiger had her very first go on a swing.

It was emotional saying goodbye (Tiger cried when Uncle R had to leave), but the beauty of family is that it is a kind of faith. Always there, always strong, always a place to call home and a comfort in the darkest times. 

Tiger has the best family. While she does not have a godmother and godfather, she has them all to guide her on her little path. It may not be conventional, but it will be utterly fabulous.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

The sweetest things

Who would have ever thought that the sweetest things in life would be ...

Tiny hats with rabbit ears

Little striped scarves

Fleecy pink miniature boots

Baby-sized jeans with the cuffs rolled up

A pink duffel coat, just the right size for a Tiger

Sandwiches cut into crustless squares

Wiping a little snuffly nose

Peekaboos with towelling bibs

Tickling sweet baby feet until laughter comes

Four perfect white teeth

The feel of the softest fingers in the world, stroking your cheek

The sound of the word "Mum".

Who needs money, cars, clothes, gadgets, fancy restaurants, posh hotels, expensive food. All I want is my Tiger and all her little sweetnesses.

Nothing else is important.

Nothing else is as simply, blissfully lovely.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

Flu, Goo, Poo ...

There is no actual poo in this post. It was just alliterative. 

Okay, that's a lie. There has been poo in the past few days, of course, but it's kind of paled into insignificance when compared with the other *stuff* oozing out of my Tiger.

Snot, mainly. Also, eye gunk. Soooo much eye gunk. Oh and enough slobber to flood Launceston.

Tiger has caught my flu. And is teething. All at once.

AND ...

It's not so bad, really. Crazily, bizarrely, DISTURBINGLY, Tiger seems completely nonplussed by all of the gloop and sore gums and such. She's in absolutely sky-high spirits in fact, despite the fact that a tooth actually cut through today and her little body is the snuffliest and gunkiest it's ever been.

She had a bit of a funny day yesterday, napwise, but that's about the extent of the drama.

I say this with all fingers and toes crossed, of course, but so far my little Valkyrie Warrior Superhero Rockstar is just powering on.

Meanwhile, I want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head and eat chocolate until my own flu dies a hopefully swift death.

I swear, this little girl is my hero. She is so courageous and happy. From now on, I'm taking my cues from her. 

Flu? Poo to you, flu. Goo? Poo to goo too! Life is awesome and beautiful and SWEET and full of laughs and sammitches and butterflies and flowers and birds and CUSTARD.

Flu! We see you! And we are not taking any notice of you. Because we are warriors. And we refuse to acknowledge anything in this life that is NOT LOVELY!

So there.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x (and Tiger the Valkyrie Warrior)

Ahhh the serenity ...

Tiger, Daddy Bear and I went to Riverside Drive at the weekend.

We went to stay with Poppy S and Nanna L-L. Poppy S had been VERY EXCITED about seeing the girl he calls "The Poppet" for a Very Long Time. He, just like Granda C, Gran L, Grandma V and Nanna L-L, think Tiger is The Bee's Knees and The Cat's Pyjamas and The Duck's Guts. Tiger has charmed him just as she has charmed Cackle Mummy and Daddy Bear.

Tiger does that. She beguiles all she meets. Because she is a rock star Valkyrie Awesome McAwesomepants.

The other purpose of the visit was Cackle Mummy's Authorly Stuffs, but Cackle Mummy was just as excited about staying in The Blue Room.

The Blue Room, Riverside Drive is a mythical place; a place of comfort and sanctuary, immortalised in its very own blog. It was staying in this place of unquantifiable calm that - Cackle Mummy believes - allowed Tiger to make her way into the world safely. Cackle Mummy believes "the vibes" of this most serene of places infused her Tiger and helped make her the chilled and happy little girl she is now.

It is a place of water and sky and clean air and swans and ... well, yes, Turbo Chooks too, but everything else about the place is perfectly, perfectly, floatily calm, and Cackle Mummy takes every opportunity to take her Little Family there.

And we did have such a good time. So many laughs, so much good music, such lovely food cooked by Poppy S and Grandma L-L, so much Chasing Poppy S Around The Kitchen In Our Rocketship (HILARIOUS). 

We didn't want to come home. We never want to leave The Blue Room. 

We did, of course, enjoy our visit to Grandma V in The Mint Green Cottage (and were, as always, spoiled by another besotted grandparent), and Cackle Mummy loved having some author time ...

But it's The Blue Room that has our heart. It is our sacred place; the place where Tiger was imagined into existence.

We will return there again and again and, always, we will grieve as we leave it.

The Blue Room is a special place. A lovely place. We take it away with us in our hearts as we drive away. We long to return.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

On Being Fabulous

"Stay Fabulous!" the tweet said.

The tweet, I might add, that only happened to come from a VERY FAMOUS AND AWESOME PERSON (VFAAP) - A VFAAP whom Cackle Mummy had admired for a very long time and had finally met In Real Life.

You see, Cackle Mummy had just attended a writing workshop with VFAAP - a rare writerly outing in the life of The Mummy of the Best Baby Ever (AKA Tiger). The workshop was on writing chick lit, a genre Cackle Mummy adores and secretly aspires to produce herself (okay, not-so-secretly now. Does this mean I have to actually do it? Gulp).

The workshop was wonderful, exciting, inspiring, funny, just-gosh-darn-BRILLIG, and the presenter was just as super lovely as I had imagined she'd be from her thigh-slappingly funny, feisty, sassy, intelligent, opinionated (in the very best sense of the word) books. I left buzzing and bouncing and DETERMINED to be the next Monica McInerney (or the next VFAAP, as a matter of fact).

It was not only the content of the workshop that made me buzz. I had a very small chat with VFAAP. And I didn't acquit myself too terribly, despite my nerves. And I even talked in whole sentences, which is a huge achievement for someone who spends most of her days reading "Orange, Pear, Apple, Bear," and saying "Bububububububububub" for hours on end.

Plus, she liked my shoes (my-five-dollar-from-KMart shoes. A detail I chose to omit from our footwear-appreciation discussion).

The next day, I went to a talk by VFAAP and another AP, a journalist who is one of the few whose job title should not be in inverted commas. I.e. one who actually does his job. And does it with integrity. He and VFAAP ran a session that moved me to tears. Because it reminded me there are good people in the world, people making a difference, taking a stand. People who are kicking against the pr***s and actually winning.

I left full of even more admiration, for VFAAP and her co-presenter.

And then, later that evening, the tweet came.

"Stay Fabulous".

And, of course, my first instinct was to reply to the tweet with something along the lines of, "Me? Fabulous? Golly, I think you have the wrong person! I wear five-dollar-from-KMart shoes! I spend my days rolling on the floor blowing bubbles on my baby's belly! I leave the house most days with yesterday's makeup on and no idea how my hair looks! My idea of a rocking good time is a long hot shower, and fifteen minutes to read a few pages of my book. My favourite pastime in life is hugging my little girl. I'm not making a difference. I'm not FABULOUS. I'm just silly little cackle Mummy."

But then I took a moment, and took my fingers away from the keyboard, and I thought about it. I thought about how I want Tiger to grow up thinking she's fabulous. I want her to be so gosh-darn assured in her little Valkyrie self that there aint nobody gonna bring her down.

And in order for her to be that she needs to see me being that.

And you know what? I am fabulous, in my own little way. I write books that people like, I have friends and family who enjoy being around me, and I have a Tiger baby who laughs when I tickle her feet. And I do kick against the pr***s, in my own small ways, every day. I have been through some nasty things and I am still here, still standing, and still singing and dancing around the room with my little girl. Who thinks I am fabulous.

And so, instead of writing some self-deprecating twaddle, I put my fingers back on the keyboard, and I wrote:

"I intend to! Tiger expects nothing less!"

Now, I just have to put my money (even if it is only five dollars) where my mouth is. Because Tiger deserves a fabulous mum. And, in the interests of the much-maligned YOLO, I deserve to be fabulous.

Thank you, VFAAP, for reminding me of that, and for being fabulous yourself. 

Now, I AM off to start work on the Best Darn Chick Lit Novel Of All Time.

I'll see you at the launch!

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

We're All Going On A Holiday!

Hurrah! Tiger and Daddy Bear and Cackle Mummy are going on a mini-break!

We are going Down South to stay with Poppy S and Nanna L-L in The Blue Room by the river! WITH ALL OF THE TURBO CHOOKS AND STUFF!

It is only a flying visit, so Cackle Mummy can indulge in her Other Life as a Writer Person at the Tasmanian Writers Centre Shock Of The Now Festival, in particular two sessions with the sublime Miss Anita Heiss.

Sadly, Very Small People and Writers Workshops / Important talky thingummies are not super dooper compatible, so Tiger will be spending extra time with Daddy Bear while Cackle Mummy is being all writerly.

Cackle Mummy will miss her Very Small Person but she knows Daddy Bear will take the very best of care of her Tiger while she is gone.

It is only a flying visit - really only time to take in the sessions and do a spot of Turbo-chook-spotting. There will almost definitely be no time for blogginess amongst the writerness and turbochookness, so this may be the last blog until we return to the Candy Pink House.

Until then, wish us bon voyage to the serene house by the river, and wish Cackle Mummy luck in her writerish endeavours!

Over and out, from Tiger and Cackle Mummy. We are off to be busy and fabulous in the Big Smoke!

Hurrah!

~ Love, Miss Cackle x

Ring, Ring!

Today, Tiger called her Daddy.

Literally.

She picked up my smartphone, pressed a couple of buttons and, suddenly, I could hear the voice of her very confused father down the line, obviously bemused at having been called at work by his ten month old daughter.

Yep. Tiger is TEN MONTHS OLD and she can call her dad. This having never used a mobile before in her little life. In fact, I spend half my life trying to keep her AWAY from the phone. She is OBSESSED.

I got my first mobile when I was seventeen. It was a hand-me-down Nokia, from my mum, approximately the size of Brazil. 

It had a grey and black screen. It made calls. Full stop. It didn't even SMS. I remember when I got a phone that had a BLUE screen instead of a grey one. That phone was FANCY! 

Plus it had Snake. Oh holy macaroni I loved Snake.

A later mobile advertised that you could buy a camera attachment. Because phones back then didn't come with cameras. The idea that a PHONE could HAVE A CAMERA? 

Blew my mind.

Until I was seventeen, see, people used landlines. And many of the landlines I'd used in my life still had actual dials that you spun around with a finger.

First time I used a touch screen? "WHAT ACTUAL SORCERY IS THIS?" I thought.

Today, my ten month old called her father.

A part of me is weeping. A part of me is marvelling. Who knows what kind of phone Tiger will have when she's seventeen? One that sends holograms to the receiver? One that can send chocolates through the screen, in the manner of Willy Wonka?

I have only one hope for Tiger's first mobile:

It should definitely have Snake.

Snake. Is. Lovely.

 ~ Love, Miss Cackle x