iPhoto Year In Review

In January, to escape the ongoing catastrophic money pit home extensions, we spend two very slow-paced nights down by the beach in Gippsland. That's about all we do in January. Ahhh.

January:  On seeing Daddy in the ocean on his own, a blue-lipped and alarmed Lolly (the wind off the Southern Ocean was fuh-reeeezing) sat quoting her swimming classes' water safety motto to herself out loud - "Swordy says.... never.... swim.... alone." Daddy got a full reprimand on exiting the waves and rejoining us at the towels.

In February, I take the best macro photo I've ever snapped: a single dandelion seed for my sister inlaw's website. I try to burn the kitchen down by way of a pot of oil left on high flame on the stove (I don't think I ever even admitted to that one on the blog..... so ashamed... ruined a bloody good pot - and set of lungs - as well, damnit). Steve and I finish the back-breaking laying of the bitching bastard fiddly fuckers bamboo hardwood flooring and it looks spectacular. In fact, all the rooms - including the family and bath rooms - are finally coming together nicely, after works that began in August 2009. The dog gets in so many photos that I pander to her neediness for inclusion and take her very own special photo (smiling dork cutie that she is) so that she leaves me alone and stops getting her arse, waggily tail or head in all my shots. I ponder what else I could be doing with my time instead of hanging out black sock after pissing annoying black sock so much that I take a photo of them when I'm only half way through pegging duties.... The offending culprit black sock wearer poses alongside his Magna-doodled likeness (as drawn by the LGBB). Lolly starts writing her 'signature' and is very proud of herself. I rest easier at night, having finally found the right green for her bedroom walls ("Willow Tree" by Bristol, if you're wondering).

In March,  on the 6th at around 3pm, a once-in-a-lifetime storm event hits Melbourne ... right over our house. After 20 minutes on the ground, the hail stones are still about 20cm in diameter even after melting on the previously warm day. The damage sustained to our home, and more to others in the neighbouring areas, reaches well into double figures in insurance. We have to replace our annihilated roof - a bucket placed on our kitchen bench yields 5 litres of water through a ceiling light in the space of less than 2 hours. It's scary and a big clean-up but not as much as many others in the area. The hail bounces off the ground to around 10ft in the air (watch the video - the sound of running water half way through is actually a leaking window that was literally pouring water in onto our floors), the hail strips paint off our fences and goes clean through Lolly's trampoline and outdoor play equipment. Steve's car is totalled (a boon, which nets him a nice brand new car... small bonus, really) and we have to replace all our outdoor furniture and toys: thank you, RACV, what a blessing to be insured. The storm puts significant halt to our garage/home office plans (final stage of extensions), so we run away to the beach again, this time to Wilsons Prom with some dear friends for a memorable short vacation.

In April, the last surviving great-Aunt on my mother's side passes away. I visit their rural property in South Australia with my brother on a hastily arranged trip for the funeral. On reaching their homestead, I am overcome and overwhelmed with the feeling of home-coming for me, the house turns out to be a stately, welcoming old family friend, with many ancestral heirlooms - including the bed our great-grandfather spent the final seven years of his life sleeping in - and I feel a deep sense of belonging to this land which I have not visited since I was barely three. I cannot quite comprehend that in every direction I look, on waking to capture the sunrise the first morning, the family owns the farming land. I am choked and humbled and feel very small as I think of the original owners who have long since been driven out by white settlers. The colours are different here. And although it is razed almost completely and there is hardly a landmark in sight, the place is captivating, haunting and stunning. When I arrive home, the new tin roof is up and it looks marvellous.

In May, we go to Phillip Island for the day and have a blast together. This is despite the LGBB's very best hand-on-hips-ish pre-four year-old behaviour throughout the day, which is tedious and confusing and full of contradictions to say the least. Still, forging on, we visit a farm and Steve milks a cow, we go to the koala conservatory and make the obligatory Penguin Parade stop to watch the fairy penguins come ashore at the end of a long, cold trek for their food. Phillip Island: A highly recommended place to spend some time, if you're ever visiting Victoria. By the end of this month, we have dismantled the wall that surrounded our outdoor deck and the garage/office wall is up and ready for frame stage.

In June, I am lovingly made a chocolate birthday cake and the cake topper is chosen by Lolly herself - something to perfectly capture the love between a mother and daughter, a timeless gift that says "I was thinking of you when I chose this"... See it there in the photo? It's a rubber dinosaur. I take a photo this month of our old dog, Pepper, thinking for sure her days of warming herself in the winter sun by the window must surely this time be numbered (six months on, I'm still taking "this may be the last photo" photos of the old battle-ax). The LGBB has her mid-year toddler dance concert (her last in this class before she moves up with the 5-7 year-olds) - her motto seems to be "better to be over-dressed than under-prepared for any occasion, dahhlinks", as the other littlies turned up in sweats and hoodies, a floral dress at best. I blink and apparently miss my leggy little blondie-girl getting suddenly all child-looking... this is the month Lolly appears to drop the remainder of her 'baby fat'. She also discovers the joys of stay-on lippy and I catch her literally painting her face with it - after this photo, she covers herself from forehead to chin, colouring in all the bits she'd missed, and it will take me almost an hour to patiently scrub it off.

In July, our little girl turns four. I almost commit hara kiri with her birthday cake on the way to the party, Scraps discovers his hot chocolate addiction is serious and Lolly perfects her portraits of her Dad, adding features such as the all-over-face stubble and toussled-hair. I walk in one lazy Sunday morning expecting to find father and daughter sharing some quality time together and they are.... on their respective Apple gadgets, happily sharing high-score results and occasionally grunting to each other. They're happy. I shudder slightly and snap a photo, assuming this is just a taste of things to come.

In August, we take the LGBB to see the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra for the first time. Steve gets arty with his iPhone4 and a bunch of My Little Ponies, I get arty with bento (Japanese take-away/snack-box lunches) and Lolly gets arty with posing dogs. On heads of other dogs. It's a slow month.

In September, Lolly inexplicably begins breastfeeding Scraps out of nowhere and it is absolutely gorgeous - she even stops play to attend to her doggy every morning and asks to see photos of herself being breastfed as a baby to ensure she's doing it realistically. I take yet another last photo of Pepper (who is still wheezing alongside me while she sleeps as I type this post), and I capture the most delightful set of images on the way home in the long afternoon Spring sunshine. Pity about the dog's piss.

In October, Steve brings home his new baby - the iPad - and we're all immediately besotted with the dear little thing, Lolly takes to using the painting app on there and is chuffed with her hard work and even more excited that she can take a screen shot of her paintings and then print them out. Our beautiful old tree begins to get its leaves back. I'm treated to a Party In The USA impromptu tutu-clad dance routine (about 19 times in a row.... GET OUT OF MY HEAD, MILEY CYRUS!). Steve gets dressed up by Lolly. And we plant ourselves a little vegie patch.

In November, surprise-surprise, yet another 'last photo' photo of Pep, standing (barely) this time. Lolly gets quite taken with the sun shade being put up for her and Pepper to have picnics in the front yard. We're so proud of our girl who has her first end of year concert in amongst the older kids - she's tall for her age at four but is towered over by them - as she holds her own and keeps up with all the moves (wearing her Best, once again). We have a guest visitor on the first warm day - a possum who falls asleep for several hours on the clothes line under our deck. And speaking of decks... it's getting there! The office and garage are finished (shells only, still plastering and painting to finish), the outdoor room is looking good. Just need to decide what colour to put on the blue-board.

In December, there are cupcakes, carols and Christmas trees! Grandpa's tickles and Mummy's kisses. Fun under the Christmas tree. Kindy graduation and baked cookies. What more to life can there be?

So 2011 begins tomorrow. I have plans. Big plans. A few things already in the works. But for now, I'm so darn tired of 2010 that I just don't wanna talk anymore.

Have a good one, please have a safe one. Happy New Year!

The new Mother's Anthem?

I'm absolutely certain that when I used to watch Annie as a ten year-old, I never properly understood poor Miss Hannigan's plight.

NOW..... after days like this when the LGBB and her sweet little terror friend make Christmas snow in my living room, their attempts to sweep up the tiny little beanbag balls just creating flurries against all my skirting boards (a week later and I am still finding rogue balls.... don't read too much into that.... under couches, under beds, falling out of cupboards when I open them....), I can more fully understand the poor woman.

The girls squirrelled away a dustpan and brush and attempted to clean it up themselves. When I checked in on them, this is what I discovered. Diligent workers, both talking but not really to each other, making noises about cleaning up "the Christmas snow". When I was spotted standing with mouth agape at the doorway, they were quick to assure me they were tidying it up. But with every sweep of their arms to indicate where the "snow" was, the "snow" lifted and spread to even further corners of the house. I would have sobbed but it was just so darn funny, I had to stuff my fist into my mouth to ensure they didn't see that this was actually so disastrous in terms of my attempts to have had a friend over to play so that Lolly would stay out of my hair while I got last minute prep's done for our Christmas Eve visitors that I just had to laugh. Sternly. So they knew this was not good. In one fell swoop, I had created even MORE work for myself. They have also annihilated the beanbag chair, bursting its seam by jumping into it so it now has a 20cm gaping hole that I have to try and fix.

This photo actually makes it all look quite tame... they spread this same distance in all directions of our living room.

You know what, though, I was thinking Miss Hannigan's actually got it pretty good. The orphans do all the housework for her. She has no significant other so can listen to whatever she pleases on the wireless. Heck, the old lush even has time to take a bath! What's her problem?! She should quit her whining, enjoy what she's got and consider herself lucky.


This song is a hoot. It's one of my favourite songs from any movie musicals (and I've seen a lot of 'em). Now, if only I could get wine to help me tune up my own voice....

Little girls
Little girls
Everywhere I turn I can see them

Little girls
Little girls
Night and day
I eat, sleep and breathe them

I'm an ordinary woman
With feelings
I'd like a man to nibble on my ear
But I'll admit no man has bit
So how come I'm the mother of the year?

Little cheeks
Little teeth
Everything around me is little

If I wring
Little necks
Surely I will get an acquittal

Some women are dripping with diamonds
Some women are dripping with pearls
Lucky me! Lucky me!
Look at what I'm dripping with
Little girls

 Lyrics link credit

Good night, my angel

Today was a typically lovely home day, the "us time" wind-down after Christmas Day and all the excitement and socialising.

Steve and Lolly were outside making play dough cakes. I was doing some tidying up inside. We were surrounded by great music all day - our deck is central to the house, which is shaped like a U - and I had been enjoying doing some physical work and taking advantage of the mild weather.

And then this song came on as I was moving about the lounge room. I was suddenly overcome and had to sit down, affording myself the time to have a good, long, hard bawl. It's been many months, possibly even a full year, since I cried this much whilst thinking of Ellanor. The next song in the playlist was "How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You" by James Taylor (another dear favourite artist of mine) and the sunny beat of the tune was in contrast to my heavy tears. It helped to lift me out of wherever I might have been headed in my thoughts for the rest of the day.

Good night my angel time to close your eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think you know what I've been trying to say

I promised I would never leave you
And you should always know
Wherever you may go
No matter where you are
I never will be far away

Good night my angel now it's time to sleep
And still so many things I want to say
Remember all the songs you sang for me
When we went sailing on an emerald bay

And like a boat out on the ocean
I'm rocking you to sleep
The water's dark and deep
Inside this ancient heart
You'll always be a part of me

(Musical Bridge)

Goodnight my angel now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry and if you sing this lullaby
Then in your heart there will always be a part of me

Someday we'll all be gone
But lullabies go on and on
They never die that's how you and I will be

Billy Joel's 'Lullaby' is one that I have always found just so profoundly beautiful. The tune is all at once strong and supportive, sweet and wistful, a little trepidation thrown in that turns to a sort of bittersweetness again. But it's the lyrics. The lyrics are just masterful. I sing it to the LGBB sometimes. It could be at home being sung to a child for so many different reasons, and Billy Joel himself wrote it for his little girl after his marriage to her mother ended.

But today, I heard the meaning in it for both of my girls. At times I felt like I was wrapping them both within my arms, one girl on either side, drawing them in to me and holding them close. Energetically, I suppose that is exactly what I did, for Lolly was not physically in front of me either - rather, she was as much 'there right beside me' as Ella was.

And this is the funny thing about Ellanor. Sometimes she might as well just be in another room. When the book comes out *cough...must keep momentum on publishing progress in the early New Year* I hope you will gain more of an understanding of our deep connection that she herself showed me was there - before she was conceived.

Yesterday was one of those days where we were surrounded by the most supportive members of the family within easy distance. It was a good, heart warming day. Lovely food, gorgeous company. But even amongst these familiar friends there were fragments of niggling disappointments. I don't think they will ever truly leave me, not regarding Ella and how one is treated when one has to continue to endure celebration after celebration with one child missing from the fun. I felt stymied. Have I not stopped mentioning her on my timeline yet!? Goodness, how can you still not be "over it", it's been almost seven years..... I can practically hear some people think it. And I know it's not intentional of them, that at the forefront of their intention would always be helping me to avoid inflicting pain on myself by "going there" (down that conversation path). In fact, they would be mortified if they knew it hurt me when they changed the subject or otherwise stopped me from talking any more about her.

The thing is, though, it comes down to this: she was our flesh and blood, bones and hair, living, breathing child. She lived. She was here, she laid eyes on me, eyes that would follow the sound of my voice around the NICU bay... I cannot deny her the short month of her full life by not speaking her name! There is no "just stopping" anything and there never will be - it pains me less to mention her. It is normal and doesn't agonise me at all to mention my daughter. But their comfort levels, I mostly try to abide by - it's a tricky thing to gauge, in a crowd, and I've had to keep quite a long mental list of inner-circle loved ones and their various comfort levels, in order not to cause them discomfort or unwittingly hurt myself if this is their inevitable reaction. It was the most subtle mention, too.... I wasn't meaning to fly a flag for bereaved parents on Christmas Day, believe me! It's just simply there sometimes. In the room. Like that good ol' elephant.

Today's cry was good. It was cleansing and releasing. I continued on with my afternoon, a little more bloated and blotchy-red of cheeks and darkened of eyes, but still good to carry on.

I will never completely "enjoy" Christmas. How could I possibly? But I do savour the time and don't rush things because of what we have lost and what we have gained from that loss. There is no denying, we would not have Lolly if we had not lost Ellanor. It boggles my mind quite often.

One huge, rolling, continuing lesson, this life we live. I hope you all slowed the pace and enjoyed your loved ones.

Windy, foggy Christmas Eve

I cannot believe she's grown so much since I filmed this! I thought she was the oldest she could possibly get. Mental note: may be something to do with not believing we'd ever have a child full stop. It still felt surreal back then in 2008.

But, anywho, here is our good thing LGBB in one of my faaaaavourite ever bits of footage of her - please excuse the lighting, there is no time for anything like that when you've got Toddler Comedy Gold going on (lest you interrupt the gorgeousness).

I could watch this over and over, honestly. And I have in the past! Here she is, aged just 2 1/2 singing that old classic, Rudolph the Red-Nose Ray Deer:


It Glows from Lolly Lovers on Vimeo.


And if I don't get back here, or around to yours before, please accept my warmest blessings for a gorgeous Christmas. I hope the days are pleasant, restful and fulfilling. NOT stressful, exhausting and crammed full of too much (unless that is what fulfils you!). Everyone who commented on this blog this year, I thank you sincerely for your humour, support and frankness.

You are all cherished. xo

How the craft ended up

Can't get enough of looking at our tree! It looks grand this year.

Thought I ought to post a couple of pics of where our craft ended up. It was just what we needed to add some homely touches to the place, on the mantelpiece there:

I thought we wouldn't be needing the fireplace... but I may have spoken too soon.

Yesterday was so cold, it was hot chocolate and marshmallows weather. There was snow on the Vic Alps and it was bone-chilly. Okay, so not quite anything in comparison to the UK. Possibly balmy, at 11ºC. But still. Not Summer!
The LGBB would like you all to notice her nailpolished, star-stickered fingers please (hence their strategic placement in shot):

I already told you... I just can't stop looking at the tree at night!

"I miss Ella"

That's what she told me this morning as we were on our way to a meeting.

I had to take the LGBB with me, it's just "that time of year" when there is no other alternative. So we packed the car with little books and crayons and a bumper Pre-School Activities book (she likes the dot-to-dots and mazes the best) and set off a little before 7.30am.

My daughter, this second child of ours, is really quite remarkable. Her attitude and co-operation today were nothing short of exemplary. When she blurted out, on the back of talking excitedly about Christmas, that she misses her sister (whom she never met in life, having been conceived almost two years after Ellanor passed away as a newborn), I was reminded once again just how remarkable she is, and of the Big Questions and how I would always have to be ready with an answer... even if that answer was a sympathetic nod of acknowledgement.

And so it was today, for after she announced she missed Ella, the LGBB then told me informatively, "A long, long time ago, when I was just a leeeeetle little baby (she laboured the point for good effect), I used to play with Ella when she was a girl." Oh, I see! I replied, remaining neutral as always so as not to taint this either way. "And then, when I got older, I wasn't Ella anymore."

I get confused and intrigued by these seeming slip-ups of the LGBB's. But the thing is, they are such consistent "slip-ups" that I do wonder sometimes. She is adamant she used to be Ella, before she grew into being Lolly. I am berated sharply by her and always have been for trying to correct her. And I have read before the stories of kids blurting out details to their astonished parents (mothers, usually) about how they used to be So-and-so but were now - well, duh! obviously - themselves.

Honestly? I don't like the idea that this is her perception. Of course I don't. But I also accept that this is her perception. Perhaps for now, it is the way she is integrating the understanding about how her big sister can be both dead and still a part of the family. Perhaps this is how she feels close to Ellanor. I can hardly blame her for that. This is an area where I have to use much tact, caution and some gentle boundary-keeping. That is all I feel I am permitted to do, for this is not just a "while she's young" thing. The passing of our firstborn daughter will affect our living daughter for the rest of her life too.

She misses Ella. It may seem strange to you, dear reader, but this statement warms my heart so much that it might just fill to bursting. My most precious thing in this world - Lolly - is including our other girl, our guiding light, even in this busy, exciting, festive atmosphere we've got going here. Perhaps this is what makes her feel more keenly towards Ellanor. I know it pulls me closer to her around this time every year.

I know it's not meant to be, but I feel like it's our little secret, Lolly's and mine, that this week she will be hand-holding with Ellanor somewhere in the ever-after "out there". And I feel the luckiest, because I will have her other hand tightly in mine.

Universal You

Perhaps this will be relevant next Christmas as well and will become a bloggy tradition of mine, to post it at this time each year. But I happened across this post as I was searching for something else and was struck again by these very fulfilling words. Now that the LGBB's room is complete, a copy of this wall poster I made is hanging in there. Sometimes, she asks me to read it out to her. It's especially cherished because it's a photo of her and her Daddy that I took when she was just two, on vacation to her beloved "Squeezeland".

Enjoy!