Over the weekend, I cleared out the newborn section of Georgie’s drawers. It was a task nestled quietly between the bookends of everyday life – unpacking dishwashers and putting away toys – and though it went without fanfare, it was only because if I’ve learned anything by now, it is this:
Life goes on.
Packing away her clothes only served as a physical reminder of time, of how much growth there has been since I gave birth to her eleven weeks ago, and that movement is a constant of life. We can’t escape it. The best we can do is ride with it, in a forward direction, and unpack as much joy as we can out of it as we’re flying on by.
Stockpiling small, happy things today, a whole heap of moments off my camera, and leaving them here to remind me of all the good, nestled within all the hard, because that’s my favourite.
It was a short season this year, the purple flowers from the tree in our backyard already just about gone. But gosh did I love seeing a big burst of purple out of our french doors each day.
Our first mulberry.
Ella got a mulberry bush for her birthday this year, and this spring it just took off. We were so excited to find our first ripe one.
One of my childhood dreams right there. Two sisters. A bond I hope sustains them through all that life brings them.
That time she was too little for the beanie my mum knitted her.
Bless that little newborn face.
The kids had been begging me for weeks to feed her, and though expressing can be a pain sometimes, it was a beautiful moment watching them feel part of nurturing her.
What a lucky little girl she is.
First chicken egg.
We farewelled the two hens we had, Molly and Ruby, a few months back; death being a big conversation in our home. We missed collecting eggs each morning and having chooks for the kids so we added four new hens and spruced up our coop for them. Their names are Batman, Flower, Sunshine and Dashie. When we got the first egg it was an excited little moment.
One on one.
I treasure the one on one time I get to spend with each child. In this moment, Ella chose ice blocks and painting together, a girl after my own heart.
When I wasn’t looking, she learned how to brush and tie up her own hair, and it was a milestone I mourned, I’ll be honest. She can be fiery and determined, stubborn and strong willed, and I’m no longer really allowed anywhere near her hair anymore. What can I say? She’s growing up. And though these “firsts” (as in, steps away from you) always come with a bit of shock and nostalgia, I love watching the person she is unfolding into.
Sunset bike rides.
My girl has also learned to ride a bike without training wheels so bike riding is big for us at the moment. Every few afternoons per week, Joel or I will bundle everyone up and go for a short walk to the best biking street in our neighbourhood: big, open road, flat road with a whole stack of kids playing basketball in street hoops and riding their scooters so cars know to drive with care around there.
We are lucky to have two sets of very loving and involved grandparents, and I love how loved my kids feel because of them.
We’re getting lots of smiles now.
I didn’t take a lot of pictures, but our ghost family were a hit.
The morning after loot trading is my favourite.
I’ll miss when she no longer fits this moses basket and it is no longer in our room; one of my favourite scenes is watching her sleep in it.
Afternoon pick me ups.
Made from things like gin and tonic and lime, because some days are long and hard, you guys, and this drink is life-giving to me.
Her hula hoop obsession.
She learned to swing a hula hoop at the farmers market we go to most Sundays, so we had to buy her one of own.
And lastly, drum roll please: Bits of Christmas.
As soon as November hit, those Halloween decorations came down and I was off to Target to stock up on twinkle lights and – well – anything I could find that screamed Heavens Are Parting And Thee Ol’ Holy Sacred Time Is Henceforth Beginning.
After a conversation with Joel which involved a lot of groaning and forehead rubbing, I forfeited my idea of a 6ft Christmas tree on our front verandah. BUT I WILL BE DAMNED IF THAT BEDROOM MY KIDS SHARE IS NOT MAGIC-IFIED TO MY EXACT LIKING. Joel came home on November 2nd, saw this, said nothing and walked off. I laughed for the longest time. He later said something about “it’s not Christmas it’s November” something-or-other, but don’t worry you guys, I stopped listening because anti-Christmas behaviour is something I do not tolerate.
The kids loved it. And can we talk about that miniature sweater garland? DYING.
Happy November, friends! Twinkle lights from here on in.