Chez Lee

What a perfect age our Little Miss Alice is at. She is happy to sit where placed and play with some well chosen, safe toys within her grasp. She observes family life with a keen twinkle in her eye and the occasional chuckle. She cannot yet move, but occasionally lurches from sitting onto her tummy and rocks about in circles, moving inches in slow, determined frustration to get to something out of reach.

She bounces with glee in her jolly jumper. In her high-chair she kicks her legs with excited anticipation of food.

And, she has started waving and saying, ‘Mama!’ ADORABLE! She also loves to grab us around the neck, pull us close and give us big kisses like a puppy dog (with the teeth too!). She is sooooo ticklish – especially her tummy and under her arms. She has the best chuckle.

We haven’t really been diligent in capturing all these special moments on video, but here’s a short clip of her saying, ‘Mama!’ – well we like to think that’s what she’s saying x

Yes! What a way to start the weekend! On an endorphin high! Started the weekend off with my first jog since early pregnancy and it felt incredible. Round the bays, a beautiful morning. I jogged just under 5km in under half an hour and felt like I had more in me too. Looking forward to the next one already (though I’ll probably be hobbling about tomorrow!).

The sound of the waves, the gulls cawing over head looking for their breakfast, a random rooster crying out ‘cock-a-doodle-doo’.

The wind on my face, the spring in my step. The intoxicating feeling of lungs full of fresh air and muscles working hard.

Yes! Yes! Yes! These endorphins are sooooo good (she says punching the air and doing a hi-5).

The girls think I’ve gone mental. I’m jumping around the house like a crazy Easter rabbit.

Okay, back to reality. The washing machine is calling me….

The mess. It starts over breakfast, after the first round of washing has already been mysteriously whipped into the washing machine. Alice enjoys baby cereal off a spoon – but she hasn’t quite got that you hold the spoon by the handle – preferring to get stuck right into the action on the tip of the spoon and have a nice play with all that mushy, sticky, gooey stuff.

A little head-way is made during the morning, with Alice being entertained with random toys as Mummy skits around the house like a white-tornado. Clothes put away. Tea-towels, bibs and cleaning cloths. Towels and bedding. A cloth whipped round the sink and bench-tops. A dirty mirror given a quick polish. A dusty shelf brushed along in haste.

And then the mess makes a come back over lunch, combined with a play-date (Sophie in the middle)…

Alice thinks it is all hilarious. She is absolutely laughing at me in the photograph below. Here she is, second round of eating for the day, deciding yoghurt and banana definitely taste better when smeared behind the ears, over the eyes, up the sleeve… ah well, at least she’s trying hard to feed herself – top marks for trying lass! And she’s doing a pretty grand job at 6 month’s old. Did I mention she has ANOTHER tooth! That’s three munching mashers at 6 months and I can feel a fourth swelling up and getting ready to cut through.

But the mess is so worth it, right? To hear the happy sounds of children laughing. To hear Sophie playing with her friends. Sophie is such a sociable personality and needs to be around people all the time. Charlotte was always happy to entertain herself and enjoyed her own space to create and ‘be’, but Sophie is happier surrounded by people.

So, it is worth it… even if there’s paint smeared clothes to wash and art materials to clean and put away. This lovely activity of painting pebbles ended up with wet clothes scattered around the patio and house. I’d left out a bucket of warm soapy water, for them to wash their hands in, which quickly became a mini-paddling pool. Sophie, yes my darling daughter, was the leader – even climbing in the bucket (she should be in the circus being able to squeeze herself into small objects!). Within moments I had three bubble covered, wet, shivering girls running through the house looking for towels and dry clothes (despite the Spring sunshine there’s still a wintery chill in the air in Wellington).

Sophie said to me the other day, ‘Play with me Mummy’ and I really do try. I don’t want her to look back and just remember me as the house-maid, cook and cleaner. But sometimes, when I sit down to play, my mind is wondering to all the chores I have to do. Other times, I do get totally engrossed in play and can so feel the love – know what I mean?

But I can’t play all the time and that is something my children need to know. I am constantly teaching them to be involved and responsible for their belongings. And when we all pull our weight and work together there is more time for play – yah! A friend recently introduced a ‘responsible jar’ – where the children earn marbles for being responsible and when the jar is full they get to choose a treat or a family activity. Great idea!

So, this week we have introduced ‘responsible jars’. Well, like all these reward systems they seem to get more and more complicated as the children get older and wiser. Truth be told, Charlotte already is exceedingly responsible and does so much without us having to ask. But Sophie needs a little more encouraging. I am going to have to draw up a detailed list of how and when they can ‘win’ marbles. There is already some heavy negotiations going on. This morning, whilst Dan was on the phone to his Mum (organising flights to NZ for his Mum and Dad), and I was in the shower, the girls broke into a screaming row over the marbles. Afterwards we had them sit down and write apologies to Chinese Grandma and Granddad and really hope they haven’t been put off coming out here in January for five weeks!

So, the mess, yes, it starts over breakfast and never really goes away, but ebbs and flows like the tide.

And sometimes the outcome of all the mess can be something rather lovely to look at…

The girls have been churning out the artwork, particularly Sophie at Kindergarten, and this week I’ve been working on turning one wall of the house into an art gallery (turned into two walls… hey ho). There is still a large pile of yet more delightful art, which will be winging its way to four corners of the world and wrapping itself around presents in due course.

Now it’s time for me to be responsible and go and collect Sophie from Kindergarten (got to wake up sleeping Alice though – poor love). And then it’s off to see the nurse for me – as I’ve been very irresponsible and not had a smear test since 2003 (gasp!). The nurse has been on my case and finally cornered me on the phone this week. Do I get a marble?

Whoop! Whoop! Spring is sooooo ready to spring (1 September officially in New Zealand). Strawberries are in the supermarket (all be it Australian ones), daffodils are blooming in the garden and filling our vases, the buds on the silver birch tree in the garden (one of our few deciduous trees, marker of the seasons and link to our English roots) is budding. Some mornings I’m opening the windows to give the bedrooms an air, as the sunlight warms up the corners of the house.

We are all LOVING playing out in the garden again. Sophie has planted peas, strawberries and filled empty pots with ‘instant’ colour…

Charlotte & Sophie are working hard to give their cubby house a ‘make over’ with a lick of paint…

Alice is trying on some shades for size in preparation of the sunny seasons…

And she’s sitting mighty fine, with her two pearly whites, at six months…

She is loving the warmer weather too and sat out in the garden, jumping in her little play-saucer, giggling at me mowing the lawn today. She’s taken to solids so quickly and LOVES her food. She is enjoying mince-meat, broccoli, Cruskits, toast, baby yoghurt, custard, pear, carrots, crumpets, potatoes, baby museli… she is so easy to feed and taking food off a spoon (and feeding herself – very messily – with one too) as well as enjoying finger food and experimenting with all the new textures. I am NOT loving all the extra cleaning, but quickly adapting and making it a part of my day with as much positivity as I can muster.

I am NOT loving Alice waking up and needing to be resettled every hour some times. She is totally dependent on me to go to sleep. I am what she associates with sleep and I really need my big girls to give me a little time in the evening so I can start putting Alice to sleep at least partially awake (instead of falling asleep on my shoulder whilst I read with my big girls – as cute as this is). I know I need to make a change, but I LOVE reading with my big girls (currently indulging in everything from Roald Dahl & good ‘ole Harry Potter to old fashioned fairy tales and the Railway Children). I am digging out the pearls of wisdom Elizabeth Pantley writes beautifully about in her book, ‘No Cry Sleep Solution’ and introducing sleep aids of music and a baby sleeping bag. I’m not feeding her to sleep all the time, but quite often she just wants to be in my arms. I’m working at laying her down a little more awake and not completely in a deep sleep. It’ll take a while – as I like to do things gradually, but I know (from previous experience) these methods will work…. in a month or so. Meanwhile, I go to bed early each night and manage to survive At least she is asleep from around 7pm to 7am – even if she is in my arms. And she does nap well. She doesn’t cry. She is full of smiles and I am convinced she’s started waving – at everyone – even random strangers 10 metres behind me!

LOVING one on one time (when I can get it). Last Friday Charlotte, Alice and I (okay, strictly two on one) had a hot chocolate at Maranui surf cafe (LOVE Maranui & hot chocolates on a Friday afternoon!)…

On the way home we saw the Westpac Trust helicopter doing a training exercise and made an impromptu stop. It was a beautiful evening and Charlotte clambered on the rocks with such free delight, whilst Alice kicked her legs and giggled at the tide gently lapping on the shore.

A Dad from school was down there too – waiting for the helicopter to finish up so that he could row out and retrieve a net he’d left close to shore. His patience was rewarded with a good catch of four large Kahawai, which we were very impressed with. I phoned Frances and she came down with Sophie, before we returned home to cook a home made pizza. LOVE impromptu moments by the beach, with the sun casting a red glow on distant hills.

What are you loving, not loving lately?
(Inspired by Greatfun4kids)

The search is on for the next New Zealand Milkybar Kid. We had a hilarious time filming this morning – using the audition script on the Nestle Milky Bar website.

Here’s Charlotte’s 60 second audition piece…

I’ll post the ‘bloopers’ and Sophie having a go another time (only 7 to 9 year olds can enter).

Ever since my friend Emma told me how babies are really made I haven’t been able to look at boys in the same way. It was all so simple before I knew. Now being 10 feels different.

Some of my friends have started playing kiss chase. If you get caught you’re supposed to hide in the copse and kiss. The copse is out of bounds. I don’t want to get in trouble. I don’t want to kiss either. Why can’t we just go back to making daisy chains and playing tag.

I’m going to my first disco at the weekend. I’m 11 now and in my first year of senior school.

I put on my pointed blue shoes with little stiletto heels. My hair is crimped and sprayed with silver glitter. I wear pink lip-stick and blue mascara. I feel excited and nervous. My reflection stares back at me, keenly aware that where once only a little girl looked back there is now something far more complicated.

At the disco a boy tells me I look like a Christmas tree. I clutch my fizzy orange pop and wait for the music to change. It’s been fast paced and fun, but we all know the end is coming and with it the slow dances.

I dread the thought of being asked to dance. I know a couple of boys want to ask me. My friends have told me. I quite like one boy, but not that much. If I danced I’d have to kiss – urgh, no, I can’t do it! I bolt for the toilets. A friend knocks on the door, ‘Come out Sarah,’ she shouts. ‘He really wants to dance with you.’

‘I just can’t!’ I plead, on the verge of tears. ‘Come and get me when it’s all over.’

I sit in class on Monday listening to the gossip. ‘Why am I so different?’ I think. I just want to run on the field and climb trees. Now all the boys play football together whilst the girls huddle in groups gossiping.

I hear the stories of who kissed who. I also hear about more than kissing. It seems to be the only thing some of my friends talk about.

I am 16 now. How I’ve got to 16 without a proper kiss is quite a feat! I did kiss a boy a couple of years ago, but it doesn’t really count as I had to do it in a school play. I played the part of a hat check girl in a 1920’s American gangster themed play and had to be literally swept off my feet and kissed by a boy two year’s older than me. I was so nervous about it. The drama director told me to run my hands through the boy’s hair. On the night of the performance ‘Tony’ had so much hair gel in that when I came to run my hands through it I nearly cried out, ‘Yuck!’ in front of a full house. I certainly learned how to act that night!

Anyway, I’m sweet sixteen now and never been kissed. I’m starting to feel like a bit of a freak, not that I’ve been labelled as such. I haven’t been short of offers and have been asked out on a couple of dates, but so far I’ve managed to avoid kissing. I have plenty of friends who are boys and am generally quite popular, but don’t go to the ‘parties’ like some of my other friends who are in the ‘in crowd’. I’m not really ‘in’ that crowd, but a floater on the edge. It’s at those parties that everything happens.

Anyway, I’ve decided to get over my fear and find out what this kissing lark is all about. I’m moving onto Sixth Form College and A-levels. I really can’t put it off any longer.

I’m at a party and there’s alcohol being passed around. Girls are mostly sat on one side of the room, boys on the other. I’ve never drank much more than a glass of red with a Sunday roast. The alcohol makes me feel less nervous and my good friend Paul is chatting to me. I tell him I’ve never kissed anyone, not properly, not a ‘French’ kiss. He can’t believe it. I smile and say, ‘I know this sounds silly but I’m nervous and don’t know how, can you show me?’

And the rest, dear diary, is history! I can’t believe I held out for so long. It felt wonderful. I liked it so much that I went on to kiss two more boys that same night (I know! What a floozy!).