How one nappy can create positive change

It started with a folded pile of fluffy, white nappies. We remembered our mothers folding them for our siblings, back when disposables were new technology but not normalised yet. We considered the cost and the rubbish pile that would result from all the disposable nappies our baby would need, compared to our pile of fluffy white fabric squares. 

The parenting books warned us not to be martyrs about washing nappies, that we had bigger things to worry about and that the environmental harm probably wasn’t that big anyway. We researched and de-bunked this pretty quickly. New mums at the mothers group raised eyebrows. The health nurse worried that it’d be too much work. We set aside the free sample disposable nappy the hospital sent us home with and did what felt right. We hung those cloth nappies on the washing line, in the sunshine, all beaming and fresh, and knew we were on the right track.

 

One day, a work colleague handed us a big bag of baby clothes for our growing babe. Amongst the hand knits and grow suits was a nappy cover. I googled the name on the label and discovered the world of modern cloth nappies. Next came the parenting forums - such a great support in those isolated early-parenting days. Before long, we’d found a circle of supportive families who shared clothes, nappies, cups of tea and stories of other ways of doing things. Friends who also researched and questioned things, acknowledged (and sometimes rejected) what had become normalised in the industrial shift away from ecological processes. We felt encouraged to look into the home-birth and water birth we’d felt discouraged from last time. And so our next two babies were born at home, in water. Then we decided the industrial education model wasn’t right for our kids, and we embraced unschooling.

We realise now that we’d begun a lifelong process of research, analysis, taking responsibility for ourselves and doing what feels right for our children and the planet they’re going to inherit. We studied permaculture and realised we’d been implementing the permaculture principles in our home for some time. From there, waste-free living was a no-brainer. It felt straight forward and simple. To this day, we can’t imagine why it took us so long to arrive at living waste-free, but we’re glad we did as we can see that reducing our waste encapsulates climate solutions. Waste is an indicator of the work to do on climate.

Now, making choices that challenge norms seems much less daunting. We’ve avoided the waste of tens of thousands of disposable nappies. We’ve diverted tonnes of waste from landfill, avoided recycling waste, dispensed with education waste and transport emissions (all those trips commuting to kinder became long mornings at home and walks around the neighbourhood). We’ve converted our suburban lawn-filled backyard to food growing plants, and we’ve made ripples beyond our own home, encouraging others to make choices for positive impact. We’ve also normalised this way of thinking and feeling, and the practices that come with it, for our kids. 

Sometimes that one simple choice you make is just the beginning. It’s where you learn the value of following your own head and heart; exercising your decision-making muscle. It might seem benign, but it just might change the direction of your life, and your impact on the planet, for the better. Then the next time a choice presents itself, to do what’s right for the planet and the people you love, you can dive right in. 

With our own simple beginnings in mind, we’ve decided to join our friend Erin, The Rogue Ginger, in requesting our council introduce a rebate on cloth nappies and reusable menstrual products, for local residents. This has the potential to reduce at least 4% of landfill waste generated in our municipality, and clean up kerbside recycling streams. Once food and organic waste composting is implemented later this year, that percentage will rise. A rebate will mean babies born in our area won’t leave a legacy of waste, contaminating the soil where they live, for generations. It’ll also be much more affordable for more people to access reusable options, which will save the council and residents money in the longer term.  It’ll mean a clean, fresh start for all of us. Who can tell the positive ripples of change that will happen beyond that.

As for that pile of nappies of ours, we can report that 18 years later, they’re still in circulation, dusting and cleaning up spills, mopping the floor, cleaning up muddy puppy paws. As each cloth gradually wears out, we place it in the compost, or as sheet mulch in the garden and it finds a new use as worm food, enriching our soil and leaving a positive impact in more ways than one.

tree of life

When Big Owlet was born, we were so happy to have her here, healthy and by any means. We didn't take the time to think about what her experience may be like. We didn't offer her the most optimal birth. We didn't know until I birthed at home, exactly how peaceful and respectful birth could be. The way we birth is important. Not just for the mother, but it is also important to provide our babies with a birth that honours their journey. The gentlest, safest birth, and a time after birth that is respectful, gentle and nurturing. We didn't look at Big Owlet's placenta with amazement when it was held up to us at the hospital. We were just happy it was out and gone and done with, so we could get on with things. It didn't occur to us that the placenta would be important to Big Owlet. It was removed from her before the cord stopped pulsating and taken away.



Big Owlet has seen two beautiful, healthy placentas. It was the first thing she looked for when her sister, Little Owlet was born. She's marvelled at them, studied them, held them and helped bury them under trees in our garden. She has a huge amount of respect for the tree of life that has helped grow and nourish two of her sisters. She's confused as to why we threw hers away. She wants to have her own placenta tree. She wants to know that we think her placenta, the beautiful thing that grew and gave her life, is important too...



So, I asked my beautiful friend Apwool to make a placenta for Big Owlet. Quirky, yes. But very symbolic and very important for our placenta lovin' owlet. When she opened the parcel from Apwool yesterday, she teared up. "Its my placenta!" she beamed. She cuddled it tightly, then inspected it and held the umbilical cord to her navel. It's super cuddly, so she's decided to spend some time snuggling and bonding with it and maybe one day, when she's ready, she'd like to bury it under a pear tree in the garden, next to her sisters' trees. Thanks again Apwool for such a generous and beautiful gift of time and love (and felt!). This has gone such a long way to showing Big Owlet that we respect and honour her experience and healing that somewhat. Such an important need to meet for each of our owlets and a simple gift I'm so glad we were able to provide.

Now We Are Six

When I was One,

I had just begun.

When I was Two,

I was nearly new.

When I was Three,

I was hardly me.

When I was Four,

I was not much more.

When I was Five,

I was just alive.

But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever.

So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.

The End

A.A Milne 

Happy Birthday to my gentle, cautious, creative, courageous, strong, wise, loving Little Owlet. This day six years ago changed us forever. We were set on a path of loving, patience  and letting go. You've brought so much joy and understanding with you. Through you, I understand the importance of respecting the loving bond between mother and babe. I see it still in how you look at me and it is always surprising and confronting how you can love someone so completely. I can see how when you love unconditionally and selflessly, it is returned. The photo above was taken one morning at the playground. You smiled at me as I snapped away. I moved the camera down so we could smile at each other while I took your photo and there it was. That complete look of love and trust. May all children love like that... And experience the same in return. 

{this moment} :: cousins

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama

sunday snippets

{sunday snippets} A collection of photos from your week.  No need for words.  Let the picture tell your story. Joining in with {tinniegirl} 

winter :: metamorphosis

One of my earliest cold weather memories... I came home from school, excited to see my little sister. We rugged up and snuggled on the blanket on the lounge room floor. This is my first memory of holding her. It was a big deal. I started seeing her as a person I could interact with that day. It's the first proper memory I have of her and although our paths have brought us together and apart at different times, she still understands me better than almost any other person.

This week brought the Winter. The beginning of huge changes for me and my sister. She's about to become a mama... like, any minute now. The first cousin for the owlets. A new baby to snuggle. It's very exciting and I wish I could be there to hold her through it. For now, the owlets and I are hunkering in for a winter's day with a movie and popcorn while we wait by the phone and look forward to seeing my sister again when her metamorphosis is complete... I'm looking forward to making some new memories.

As for me... I began my own process of metamorphosis today. I began putting aside time just for me. I got up, wandered out into a dark, rainy neighbourhood and put my health first for an hour or so. I'm planning on doing it everyday and finding the energy to keep up with my owlets. All those years of working and parenting meant I put my health last for such a long time... I'm looking forward to spending more time with the healthier version of me. Interestingly, she's much calmer, happier and more clear-headed. I wonder what else she can do?

Winter also heralds change within our nest as we commence something new as a family. We've been making preparations for a while and take our first nervous and excited leap at the end of the month. We're possibly completely out of our depth, and a little crazy for taking it on, but I expect that's how everything looks this side of metamorphosis.

I'm looking forward to the growth we'll be doing this Winter and to seeing just where we are at by the Spring. How about you? Any big plans? Any metamorphosis happening at your nest? xx

look at them learning...

Actually, this is a particularly schoolish photo, don't you think? The owlets decided to sit down and work on a page or two of some maths problems while we were waiting for the pasta to cook on Saturday. And it's possibly the only photo I have of them looking like they are doing anything related to "learning" in the traditional sense, even though they are all learning so much...

On this particular occasion, Big Owlet learnt to add numbers with double digits, which she later said was "kind of fun", despite her general feeling that "maths is boring". Big Owlet is going through a patch of not reading much at all. She reads to her sisters lots, and very well, but she's paused the novel reading for a little while for some reason... She's all about cooking. Today she baked her first solo cake. Thanks to baking, she now understands measurement, time and temperature so much better, as well as a bit of chemistry, watching solids and liquids mix, which she's backed up with a bit of playing with gloop...



She's learning the fine art of checkers and thinking strategically. Actually, we've been playing lots of games, learning much along the way.



Little Owlet, who doesn't like games all that much, is learning the basics. Self care is an important one for her. I'm modeling it as best I can and showing her by nurturing her LOTS. She forgets to eat, she's so wrapped up in play. Forgets so many things... She's branching out lots on her own, finding independence, wanting to spend all day with friends...



Little Owlet is also asking for lots of time with me, in that tug-of-war that goes on until that independence is upon them... I'm making time to read to her at the end of each day. It's important to her. Unlike her sisters, she never much cared for books, as a toddler. But we're making up for it now. She's reading some words. And listening to so much that I'm saying to her, showing her. She's a little sponge right now. A happy, social little sponge and it's so exciting to watch.



Tiny Owlet is a sponge too. She's observing everything and learning by osmosis. She's all about mothering.



She carries her baby everywhere. She breastfeeds, co-sleeps... actually we all breastfeed her baby, but that's a story for another day... She calls most of us "mama" when she needs something or wants to be heard...



She is working so hard on talking, despite being perfectly comprehensible in grunts. Her days are about caring and copying and climbing and clowning. And they are so full. All of our days are full. Full of learning and loving and just living.

Tiny walks...

As Tiny Owlet grows, the rhythm of our days takes on a new shape. And her confidence in venturing out into the world, keeping pace with her sisters, grows.



On days where we are at home, we've begun walking around the neighbourhood after morning tea. We move at Tiny's pace. Slowing down as she jumps over tiny hurdles. Laughing as she waddles along with a gleeful expression, taking in her world as an active participant.



These walks take time... But goodness she can walk far.



Occasionally she wanders off to look at things on her own, but always returns to the comfort of walking with her sisters by her side...



Sometimes we stop at the neighbourhood cafe before continuing on home for a big nap. How very lucky we are, all of us, to slow right down like this. To just take our time and talk and walk and learn together. To see the the world as Tiny sees it. One Tiny step at a time.

Losing Pippin...

I haven’t shared this story here in full before. But I think stories of loss are just as important as joy filled birth stories. I’m not sure why death and miscarriage are so taboo. They are sad, but in them we can find such beauty and raw emotion. They stay with you forever. The little hole left by Pippin is still there for me, three years later, even though another babe has filled his place. He left just after the first flutterings began. I felt his presence from the beginning and on some days, I swear I still feel him around me… Anyhow, this story was written two days after his birth/death. It was Samhain in the pagan calendar, a particularly apt time. A time where death, quiet renewal and drawing inward was happening all around us…

The year ended with a choice of two plans for the following year…

Plan A – have baby now so we have the same 3yr gap and keep life interesting.

Plan B – have baby later when Little Owlet is more independent and have a stable year with no major changes or plans, for a change.

We chose Plan B. Then plan A chose us. So we welcomed the idea of a little one into our hearts and prepared for the year ahead. Huz was particularly excited at the change in plans. The pregnancy proceeded as the others had. All was normal. All was well. The owlets were so excited to have a new sibling and made all sorts of plans for its future. Big Owlet wanted a brother. Little Owlet wanted a sister. I had dreamt about a boy, but it was a swirly, intangible dream…

At eighteen weeks, Huz had to leave for a few nights away for work. For some reason I really didn’t want him to leave. I made plans to go to Melbourne to be with family, but begrudgingly accepted that I needed to stay at home. We kept ourselves busy with friends and waited for Huz’s return. On Wednesday I sat down against a cushion that had been warmed by the sun and felt an instant relief for a pain I hadn’t noticed in my lower back. Later, I noticed a little blood when I went to the loo. Strange. Sinking feeling in my gut. Then the cramping really started. I called Huz who felt confused and helpless. The owlets and I hopped into bed and watched movies. After midnight I noticed that tightenings were happening regularly and the blood was increasing. Not good. In the morning I told the girls what I expected was happening. Big Owlet burst into tears and said “But I don’t want the baby to die!!” Which Little Owlet repeated and then said “Its ok, Mama, we can make another one”. I called Huz and let him know what was going on. More confusion and helplessness, but he was coming home later that day so we would just wait and see. I couldn’t wait to see him. When he arrived home he looked ashen and exhausted, but relieved when I fell into his arms and it began…

At around four o’clock Little Owlet crawled into bed with me for a little breastfeed and  tightenings started up again. Stronger this time. Huz entertained the girls while I walked around breathing and stretching. Big Owlet didn’t want to let me leave her sight. She kept checking on me all day. She wanted to do something, call someone, get help. She thought I hadn’t eaten the right foods or something like that. We talked it through, reassured her this was a normal thing and part of life and our family’s story. We couldn’t contact our midwife and Huz and I both knew that hospital wouldn’t help much at this stage… At around 6 o’clock I was pacing and Huz suggested some music. Perfect. Joan as Police Woman popped into my head for some reason and in the middle of the first song I burst into tears, holding Huz, crying and dancing while contracting. Just the release I needed. It was the perfect choice of album, in hindsight. All about death and life and living and loving. I have a habit of picking the soundtrack for events in my life… By the second song, things were in full swing. I crawled and breathed, danced and belly danced and pretended to be a frog with the girls for the contractions. Little Owlet cuddled and kissed me and said “Mama, I love your tiny baby”. Big Owlet continued to observe me with a little concern, but the dancing seemed to put her at ease. At 7 o’clock, Huz put the owlets to bed with a DVD. I felt a pop and quickly made a nest in the bathroom with candles, towels and a heater. A short time later Pippin was born.

At first, I was almost afraid to look, wondering what I’d find… Such a tiny baby bird. So perfect and small. Beautiful and lifeless. He was in a little bag of water that somewhat resembled a jelly mould. I called Huz and we had a look together, through tears. So small. Tiny ears and hands and feet. We took photos. He was a boy. The owlets came and had a look and touched his tiny, perfect hand. I moved to the bath to try to birth the placenta as tightenings were intensifying again. We watched the water turn red. The owlets didn’t want to leave my side. Particularly Big Owlet, who was coaxed back to bed very reluctantly.

Two hours later, Huz began to worry about the blood I’d lost and the time it was taking to birth the placenta. I was in a huge amount of pain, like none I’ve felt before, or since, and feeling woozy from it.  Huz called around for advice online and called our last midwife who suggested going to the hospital. She said we’d probably face an ambulance, five hours waiting around and a D&C… Um, no thanks!! After seeing Huz’s look of distress though, I agreed to calling an ambulance… And that was all the impetus I needed to birth the placenta. It arrived while he was on the phone to the stressy Ambo guy who was shouting in his ear. Phew! Relief. Its over. We can go to bed. Huz was overcome with the emotion and stress of it all and burst into tears while I hopped in the shower. Then he got a blood nose. Blood everywhere. From both of us! It looked like a crime scene. We had a giggle and a cry while we cleaned up and snuggled into bed with some food, while our amazing owlets snored and sighed near us. I called Dad and Mum and told them the news… I felt a strange sense of calm and like all was right. Sad, but right.

We got through it. Together. Our little family all working to help and love one another and create a protective, comfortable and warm space to welcome little Pippin. We have gone somewhere we never thought we would and will come out the other side with love and stronger as a family for it. In the next few days we’ll be finding a spot in the garden for Pippin and a tree to plant over him. We’ll be relaxing as much as possible and planning our future again. Back to plan B.

In the following days, we felt cocooned by love from family and friends around us. My sister flew down and nurtured us beautifully. Listened to us recount the events of our amazing, sad week. It really was a huge turning point for us. It cemented our relationship and enabled us to communicate and work as a team as we hadn’t before. It highlighted the love that was there and strengthened it tenfold. Birth, death and everything in between will do that… 

** The photo above was taken on my birthday, three years ago, just before losing Pippin. 

the perilous beauty of toddler breastfeeding

Tiny Owlet and I have reached that part of our breastfeeding relationship where she's suddenly extremely busy and rough and strong and very, very focussed. She climbs and twirls and turns -  sometimes she trips... um, ouch! She twiddles - well, she tries. Tiny Owlet nurses lots. As much, if not more than ever. Anytime I sit down. I'm glad that she does, because most days she's too busy to eat! When there's sickness in the house, she nurses more, in an effort to protect herself. Time for me to step up the self-nurture...



Tiny Owlet sings and snuggles and when she's not sick, as she is today, she drifts happily off to dream milky dreams... When she is unwell, or if we're just too busy, I'm so thankful that there's always something to provide comfort and a special sense of home... If we're lucky, the world (and Tiny) stops and we look into each other's eyes, just for a moment or two, and I'm so, so glad we have this... because this time really will be over so soon...

Are you breastfeeding a toddler too? Have you? How do you look after yourself on long-long days when you fear sitting down, lest the twiddly fingers lift your top? When Big Owlet was small, I had no idea just how normal it was to breastfeed a toddler. So I stopped just after her first birthday, just as the books suggested... Then Little Owlet came a long and boobs were her whole world! I couldn't dream of weaning her, so she chose to wean herself, in her own time... and let me tell you, it was a surprisingly looong time before she was ready to let go. She needed that connection so very, very much. Tiny Owlet will choose when she's ready too and although I'm not sure she's as attached as her sister was, I'm sure it's a while off yet... 


Some interesting info on feeding a child beyond the first year

Creativity...

It's like a blister. This creative impulse of mine. It'll burst if I don't do something about it soon. Some days I think it'd be much easier if it wasn't there at all. If I could just ignore it. I'm so fortunate to have been given two things in my life that I'm passionate about. Two things that I love and find utterly absorbing and that I do naturally. Mothering and creativity. They go hand in hand, but unfortunately sometimes, one can override the other... For me, creative expression is meditation. It feeds my soul. Mothering is undoubtedly life changing and defining and the most important thing I will ever do. But it is not sustainable, for me, without creativity. And I'm not talking about creative ways to fold a nappy, or communicate with a toddler, or strew new concepts for the owlets to learn... Creativity in the form of colour and paint and drawing and stitching and fabric and print... Even if no-one ever sees it, playing with all those things, learning and expressing and releasing are just as important as a cup of tea, a warm bath or a cuddle on a hard day of mothering.



The last two years are the longest period of time I've spent without creating much at all. First there was school art classes, then art school, then a design degree, followed by working in design jobs for years and years.... Then came Big Owlet. And three months later, I became itchy to design and create again... so I worked from home, designing until Little Owlet was a toddler, finally sewing some bits and pieces to sell at markets and in the owlet shop. Not all of them were my favourite form of expression. Not all of them were free. And some led to creative burnout. But the legitimate forms of creative work I've done have given me an outlet. They've exercised that part of my brain, of my soul, that needs it. And that's just the thing, to me, because the rest of the world noticed those forms of expression- requested, graded and in some cases paid for them - to me they were legitimate. Right now, I recognise that I need to make time for creativity even if no-one benefits. I need to make it a legitimate form of self-nurture and I need to prioritise it. It is my meditation and as important to me as breathing. Just as mothering is. But without creativity, mothering suffers.



So this post is where I make myself accountable. In the last year, I've tried to replace legitimate creative time with important responsibility - things like groups to attend and organise. I've crowded my days with social outings and owlet centered activity. I've said no to a couple of design markets I'd have loved to be part of, because there's just no time and support to help it all get done amongst all the mothering... And right now I need to shift focus. I need to make time. And play and meditate and breathe. Today I began reading The Divided Heart again, which is so raw and honest and true, like reading the back of my mind and my heart. I sat down with an old book of paper Huz gave me 15 years ago and some paints he gave me too and I played with the colours, swirling and blending and doing nothing aside from watching them work together, as I might have when I was a child... Just painting with no end result in mind, purely in the moment. Nothing else existed. Especially not responsibility. And a weight lifted. It was a start. Who knows what will become of it, this time focused on creating for no-one in particular. But I hope it becomes something worth sharing one day and that the creativity flows freely, without blisters and bumps and alongside mothering, with ease.

Do you make time to create? Is it important to you? 

At the park...

Yesterday Tiny sat between her sisters on the swings at the playground. And she got it. In that moment she understood what they were about and she looked out over the river and swung back and forth and giggled and cackled and gazed at the sky, gazed at me, at her sisters, at the water... Such happiness. A complete and utter reflection of the love that surrounds her and radiates from her. I think I'd like to be just like this when I grow up. Radiating love and completely lost in the moment.

Hope you've had a gorgeous week. xx

Sleeping in

It's been two months since we made our three bedroom house a one bedroom, plus playroom, plus innovation suite* house. Merging a queen and a king sized bed together to create the biggest bed in the world. We enjoy long, languid lie-ins most mornings, taking time to get up when we are ready, each with our own space until then. Traditional Japanese homes have always had the whole family sleeping in one room. It makes sense. And for us, it does too. But there have been interesting little things, astonishing things, we've noticed along the way...

Little Owlet has lost her fear of bedtime. She no longer has to be tickled or cuddled to sleep. She takes herself to bed most nights, tucks herself in and dozes off while her big sister reads silently beside her. She wakes up, more often than not, smiling at me as we say good morning with our eyes. Her confidence has grown incredibly, to the point where she's now happy to leave our nest and sleep at friends' houses. She knows she has a safe, loving place to return to.

Big Owlet, who was always a little awkward in showing affection, now has confidence and comfort in her cuddles. She comes and cuddles and kisses us often during the day. She's much more content and secure now. Less angry. Able to communicate more clearly. Grounded. She enjoys a level of responsibility and care for her sisters too, particularly Tiny Owlet. She feels, for the first time in a long time, always accepted. Welcome. Loved.

Tiny Owlet will know no different to this. She'll always know the joy of waking up with your favourite people in the world, rolling over and crawling between them for a play and a giggle. She'll only know nurture and comfort and belonging.

Last night, Tiny Owlet woke just as I was heading to bed. She often does this as her sleep cycle finishes and she wonders where I've gone. Huz went to console her while she waited for me to brush my teeth. When he placed her on the bed to snuggle in next to me, she giggled. Then pointed at her sleeping sisters next to her. Then lay down next to me, sighed and fell asleep. "Smartest thing we've ever done", Huz said. "Yes. I know", I replied, listening to my owlets breathing and sighing contentedly next to me... dozing off into a blissful slumber with my Huz by my side...


* that's Huz's name for the grown ups play room... It's our space to create, to relax and innovate.

faeries, wizards & mama magic...

I've been a little nervous about Huz's return to work. Keen to have a good solid rhythm in place so that it doesn't overwhelm me when it's just me at home with three very different individuals on three very different learning paths and at very different stages. We've been floating in our school-free bliss for some time now and while we know that learning happens all the time, no matter where we are or what we do, our owlets have asked specifically for more stuff to do. For more from me. It seems my mama magic has waned over recent years. Big owlet remembers and she's urging me to find it again... There's just not enough of me to go around. We're finding our way. And I'm formulating a plan to  meet everyone's needs.



It's hardest right now with a busy toddler who's need is to find out what her sisters are up to and have a go. Even if it involves sitting on whatever it is they are doing. It will pass, most likely before the year's out. But so will the owlet's passions and that moment for them to learn from them. So find a way to work with and around happy little cherubic toddler challenges, we must.



Gosh those passions pass so quickly! Last time we visited the library, Big owlet was obsessed with spies. These days she's all about dragons and wizards, and in particular Harry Potter. Staying up late reading, talking and thinking and learning what she can by day... I need to think fast on my feet.



Little owlet is all about faeries and princesses and storytelling. Fortunately I have lots of experience there... So we're building castles and Hogawarts from boxes. Reading when we can. We're finding a way to work together and finding a flow so that it works. Somehow. I expect it will get easier and I'm putting some regular preparation in to strew their paths with interesting things along the way. I'm looking forward to the months to come and the things we'll get up to. And I'm looking forward to finding my mama magic again...

finding our way through the seasons :: part two

The garden! It's become a feature of our days, at last! Tiny Owlet loves being outside more than anywhere else. She loves dirt and grass and chooks and sky and water... Little Owlet is now comfortable enough with dirt and bugs that she enjoys the garden now too (yay!). So we've been spending more time out there, thinking, planning, talking, dreaming. We are generally opposed to large expanses of lawn and all the effort maintaining them brings, and yet we keep finding ourselves in houses with nothing but lawn... Our eventual plan is to fill as much of the garden with food as possible. And in between, some indigenous plants to keep the local wildlife happy. 

We began with some fruit trees a few years ago, then more a year later and when burying Pippin and Little and Tiny Owlet's placentas. We've had a successful vegie patch. Then watched it turn to weeds as babies were born and grew and were born again. We've grown disheartened at the prospect of starting again. Then we mowed the vegie patch to the ground and it self-seeded and was fantastically productive, despite our neglect. So we've learnt to embrace the weeds somewhat. This week we bought some bales of lucerne and barley straw and we are beginning an experiment, which our neighbour is watching with much interest, as are we. 

Two raised straw bale garden beds, planted with vegies and strawberries. Some are seedlings, grown locally and bought at the farmers' market. In the next bed, we've planted some seeds so our crops are staggered a little bit. Finally we can see some structure and the edible part of our garden is expanding, while the lawn disappears. The owlets have enjoyed dirty hands and outdoorsy work, but especially Little Owlet who seems to really get the whole kitchen garden concept in her very practical, hands on way. We're all learning. Gardening is all about learning and experimenting. That's what I love about it most of all... aside from the food. And all the green. 

In the pipeline for our garden, as the seasons dictate, is more fruit trees for the orchard, a perennial understory and, if the strawbale garden works, more garden beds and more food! As much as I love the farmers' market, I'd love it even more if we didn't need to buy our vegies and fruit at all. If the seasons completely dictated our eating. If the majority of our days were spent digging and observing, wondering and learning in our own little garden...

*photos by Huz.* 

running...

We've been visiting our local Little Athletics track when it's deserted. We flump down under a shady tree with some cool drinks and then we run. Huz has a go first, exerting his uber-competitive streak and trying to get closer to the world record each time. He actually knows what it is just off the top of his head. Who has headspace for such things? Him. Of course, the next day he'll be sore all over... Then Big Owlet has a go. She's getting better at the competitive stuff, but you can't beat her by too much. She's not too into being timed yet either, but she's slowly grasping the concept. And then there's Little Owlet.

She runs for fun. She's fast and steady and finishes without feeling puffed. She just likes running all the way around the track and she's built for endurance. She especially loves running all together as a group. But no-one can win and you most certainly may not time her! It's an interesting lesson in competition, team work, time, distance, fitness, endurance and so many more things for all of them. And it's fun and free.



Tiny tries with all her might to catch up to them. She grabs onto the bigger owlets dresses at home and runs along behind. When we're at the track, she toddles out across the oval, trying to catch up. They sweep her up on the home stretch and she giggles all the way back to mama's arms.

{this moment} :: wonder

{this moment} - A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Inspired by SouleMama.

the biggest bed in the world

We've been playing musical beds around here for such a long time. Trying to keep flexible enough to accommodate everyone's needs as they grow and change and their needs change. Often we (and by we I mean Huz) will need to sleep in another bed so that an owlet (usually little owlet) can snuggle in and we can all sleep soundly. Our combined needs have changed so much that we now own at least one bed of each size from bassinette to king sized bed. And we've moved the bunks way more times than I can remember. They've been in every room as we've moved between variations on co-sleeping and personal space. I'm a little tired of the musical beds game...

What I do know is that we need to provide the space for the owlets to sleep near us if they need. It's always a bit of a tug of war, this growing up stuff. Our owlets ebb and flow through bursts of independence and needing to be a babe in arms all over again. We could choose to not respond to that need and send them back to bed, time after time, escorting them to the loo for the umpteenth time... Or we could just make some room, both in our beds and our hearts. One day they will sleep in houses of their own and we will miss this.



So, right now we have the biggest bed in the world. Well, maybe not that big, but big enough for us. A king and a queen sized bed pushed together, which fills the room entirely. There's ample room for everyone. And there's still a bed to escape to elsewhere should someone need some space. Right now I have three owlets sleeping soundly. Little owlet's heart just about exploded as she told us this was her dream come true... I expect she'll be sharing the space for a while yet, and that's just fine by all of us. Yes, we will sleep well tonight.

wandering...

I've been on a little voyage abroad with Tiny Owlet. A little wander back to my hometown to spend some time with my family. We missed Christmas with them and it's been a year since they last saw Tiny. She's grown a bit since then...



It was my first time away for the night from Little Owlet and the longest I've been apart from Big Owlet in three years.  I made their fave breakfast before sad faces kissed me goodbye at the airport.



And although it was hard for all of us, I think we all did a little bit of growing.



In fact, the bigger owlets had a marvelous time at home with Huz and he was so brilliantly there for them the whole time.



As they were for him.



Tiny Owlet and I spent lots of time at my favourite Melbourne place, the NGV. In fact, we celebrated the birthdays of two very important people there. We also sampled some cafe culture, amazing food and conversation at my parents' dinner table, sleepovers with my sis and her man and a languid afternoon catching up with old friends. There was just a little bit of time to miss home...



We returned somewhat relaxed, with treats from Mum's kitchen, including her famous apricot jam and some Christmas cake, baked specially... Oh, and a new tooth.



And although I'll miss the food, the conversation and especially the company... It is good to be back in our nest with my owlets and Huz, wandering the garden and sampling summer. I was greeted at the airport by owlets with tiny saved packages of homegrown strawberries and peas. Then at home I was greeted by a tree dripping with beautiful, ripe apricots. Just perfectly ready. All gone now. And so on with summer....