Snow Day!

Phillip took this.
He's the only consistently early riser in our family.

For the first time since I moved here, we had snow at our elevation. Snow that STUCK. About two beautiful white fluffy inches of it.

Apparently, it was the first time in ten years that its snowed all the way down to sea level.

Phillip had the day off work, and we dropped any sort of schedule we keep to just enjoy the rarity of the snow.

We started out by putting on boots and coats while we were still in our pyjamas, before breakfast, and ran around outside enjoying Simon's enthusiasm over seeing snow for the first time he can remember.

After breakfast, we bundled up and were outside right away again. We were outside as long as we could stand. Snowballs were thrown, snow was piled up, we practised running and sliding on it, and Phillip even made a little snowman. We enjoyed every moment outside until little fingers and even big toes were red and nearly too cold to feel anything.

Inside again, warm with our roaring fire, I made the boys some hot coco to warm up. Simon's first introduction to "hot choc".

It is REALLY coming down!

Even Ippo wanted to come out and play in the snow
Side note: This is a really awesome cat

We have no snow shovels. Simon made do.

The beginnings of a snowman

Simon's snowman.
Or snow-pile.

How many snowballs can you hold?

Phillip's finished snowman

Warmin' up with hot coco

Oh yeah, that's some good stuff!

I Remember

I remember the smell of my grandmother's kitchen.

It smelled cold. Comfortable.

Clean, with fresh hot coffee brewing. A faint scent of dish soap in the background, because even though she had a dishwasher, she still washed a lot of dishes by hand.

Cold, and somehow so so inviting.

And her pantry. Oh, how I adored the smell of it! Spices, herbs, crackers, bread, nuts, dried fruit, and cereal. It mixed into the most wonderful homey smell. A smell that, if I ever catch a hint of it anywhere else, instantly transports me back to that pantry, where she would stock Cheerios when I visited because she remembered I liked them. And always had Shredded Wheat on hand. Where she let me try, and then inhale, dried dates and mango during every visit.

A place she kept tins of cookies, because it was usually Christmas when we came to visit. Snickerdoodles are what I mostly remember. She made the best snickerdoodles.

All of us visiting would gather in that large kitchen. Around the table, at the counter, or in the living room that had no separation from the kitchen.

It was a large, happy, loving gathering place when the family got together.

Cold, and so so full of warmth.

My grandmother was generous. So very generous and wonderful.

She taught me to knit.

I still have two pairs of knitting needles she gave me when I was young. Two of her "extra" pairs. It's a skill I have been able to grow in and use to give to others. Something that, every time I make something, reminds me of her, sitting with some project in a basket and her hands while she watched the news.

She taught me how to sew, and I still think of her every time I sit at the machine, or hold a tissue paper pattern in my hands, because she helped me sew my very first piece of clothing at a fairly young age. She guided my hands around the curves of the arm holes as I sewed, helped me pin the thick denim fabric together.

She taught me that it's ok to say "no" to gifts and requests, because respecting yourself and standing up for yourself is more important than trying to please everyone else. And she never took offence if I did tell her no to something.

She taught me that experiences and people are far more important and treasured than things.

She taught me love.

It's been almost 2 months since she died. And so much longer than that since the surgery that changed her.

I had to miss her funeral, because we live so far away. It hurt so much to not be there, to not be with my family to help pay tribute to her life and lay her to rest, to not hurt with the family who was missing her and hurting.
So I honour her in my own way, by continuing to use the values and skills she taught me.

My grandmother, my Grandmom, was a wonderful woman.

I miss her so much.

4 years ago
The last time I saw her

"Life is a pile of good things and bad things"

Last weekend I got a new brother-in-law.

(I'm doing these blogs a week late because of reasons.)

My sister-in-law married someone I've been friends with for... years.

It's all a rather beautiful story of God taking two broken people and very slowly opening their eyes to each other and the plans He had for them to be together. It really is just lovely.

But that's their story to tell, not mine. And they do it SO much better than I could.

The wedding was small and simple. The couple lovely. My anxiety through the roof. I am finding it extremely difficult to be around groups of people without feeling... smothered. Uncomfortable. Judged.

7 months in, and the grief of loosing Bennet is no less than it was the day we found out there was something wrong with him. We've only gotten better at carrying it. On top of that, I lost my grandmother the same day my little boy turned 2. So a lot of grief, a lot of pain, a lot of weight to carry around.

But the thing about pain and grief is, they don't make the happy things any less happy. I am THRILLED that my sister-in-law and friend are happily married. I really truly am.

But all that weight from all that loss makes the actual celebrating WITH people... hard. Especially when you're told "be happy, today is a happy day. Cry about sad things later." Then you just feel like an awful person because the sadness, even if you're trying to hide it, is just oozing out of you, and you feel judged for it.

I am happy. More than happy. But at the same time, I am also sad. Horribly horribly sad. And that doesn't go away just because something GOOD is happening.

Big occasions like holidays, birthdays, weddings, make me miss my baby more keenly than every day. Because he should be part of the celebration. He should have been crawling after his big brother, complaining about missing his nap, begging for milk, snuggling up on my lap, meeting all the long-distance family members. His dark head of beautiful hair a contrast to his big brother's curly blond locks.

The thing that, well, thrilled isn't the right word, but felt extremely special to me, was that my father-in-law mentioned Bennet in his "welcome to the family" speech. To hear my child's name mentioned, in such a public forum, and in such a meaningful way in that he is STILL part of the family this new person was entering, was so so special to me.

Hearing your dead child's name spoken aloud, having them counted, is priceless.

I did not make this.
But thank you to whatever Whovian did. 

Two Years Old!

My little boy turned TWO! I no longer have a baby on my hands, and honestly, haven't for quite a while. He is a full-blown high-energy INSANE and wonderful toddler! I have survived nearly 2 full weeks of super-real toddlerhood! And, tantrums aside, this is one of my favorite ages.

Learning lessons from last year (where I went all-out for the family party we had while pregnant and very very sick), I supremely toned it down this year. Mostly because last year, for Simon's 1st birthday, we announced that he was going to be a big brother. So we weren't sure if we could emotionally handle having people over because it is, this year, anyway, one of "those" days, that might trigger extreme sadness (read: more than the every-day sadness) that Ben isn't here. I don't care about showing my sadness in front of most people, but people are EXHAUSTING. Parties more so.

But Phillip and I decided that, since we'd skipped the family Mother's Day celebration (it being another one of "those" days that just... hurt), we'd invite the family over to kind of say "yeah, we can't handle some things, but we still want to be around you when we can because we still care about you all."

Apparently several of my text invites never went through though, so two of four families never knew we even had a party (I apologised profusely and they're all happy), along with some other... upsets... about us missing Mother's Day... it turned out to be a very very small family party.

We had fun, though, celebrating our crazy kiddo. The weekend before (the day before Mother's Day), we took Simon to Ag Fest, as part of his birthday treat, to look at all the tractors, trucks, and other farm equipment that makes his little boy heart so happy.

Excavators are his FAVORITE

Something I learned from one of my cousins, who throws quite beautiful themed parties from time to time, is that it is best to simplify things. Pick the top few things you really really want to do, and do those. Otherwise, there are so many cool ideas out there to try, it gets VERY overwhelming and you end up only half doing any of the things and have a party that looks half as well put-together.

Thus, my focus for this little party was the table. (And what Simon loves, of course). Simon is, like a lot of children his age, absolutely in LOVE with trucks and tractors. So we made a "Farmer's Market" table for his food, and John Deere colors because, well, it was easy and we had leftover yellow stuff to decorate with. Phillip designed a quick a cool-looking sign to bring it all together. I cleaned out his dump truck VERY thoroughly, and we served sausages in it, and put a small tray in his wooden tractor and had "farm fresh" hard boiled eggs in it, and had plenty of fresh veggies and potato salad on the side. With the John Deere colored cake with it's little tractor on top, I think it all came together nicely. And the two-year-old looked about as impressed as a two-year-old can be with food.

I would probably do just about anything to get that smile to stay on his face.

He got a LOT of books from Grandma, Popop, and Mama
and Daddy.
And insisted on reading each one before going on to
the next gift

Our big gift to him this year was a ride-on tractor my sister convinced us to buy him because he tries to ride everything from soccer balls, to his toy trucks, to the cats (the last one is problematic). And of course he got books. He LOVES books. WE love books. Like my dad said, it's never to early to start your own library. He likes his tractor quite a lot, and didn't want to wait for it to come out of the box and get assembled before he rode it. 

So many ways I can see that my little man has grown so much in one year. He walks, he talks, he launches himself off of every possible surface that is more than one inch above the ground (the higher the better). He has a head full of curly blond hair! And, he cuts up his own food. Quite a big difference from his decapitation of the dragon cake last year. 

A Visit from Aunt Jojo

My sister just (well, a week ago) left us from a glorious ten day visit.

I didn't realize how lonely I get until I had her with me for a whole ten days.

It's not just the loneliness that comes with being a stay-at-home mom. It's just living here, isolated, away from family, away from friends I've had since... forever. With a time difference that makes talking to people sometimes difficult to line up, and everyone (myself included) having fairly busy lives, so contact is limited even more.

So it's lonely here. But I don't notice HOW lonely until I have someone with me. Especially a WOMAN someone. Especially my SISTER.

It was a great visit. And I miss her terribly.

Mmmm. Wallaby.

We did a lot of the typical stuff with her that we do with all our visitors who stay long enough to do things with. Local wildlife at Wings Wildlife Park, ice cream, multitudes of honey and bees at Melita Honey Farm aka The Honey Place, fudge and coffee at Fudge n' Good Coffee, fish n chips, the beach (not together this time... because of naps and rain and mostly naps), being inside an I-spy picture at Reliquaire, and sampling local or national foods and drinks at random places very close to us. Including a wallaby my brother-in-law shot for us that I brined for a few days and roasted (best tasting wallaby I have EVER made).

Joanna had a benefit none of our other guests have had, though. I have my Australian drivers licence (because my permanent resident visa was approved, Yay! It's a long long story, that one), and finally feel (sort of) comfortable driving around myself. On the wrong side of very narrow roads.

Playing with Aunt Jojo in his "hole".
It is not a slide, it is a hole.

Of course, since she's family, Joanna spent a TON of time with her nephew. And Simon soaked it up. He adores his "Aaa Joooo" (Aunt Jo). His thought process probably went something like this: "Someone to play with me, make noises, color, is completely at my beck and call? And is closer to my height than Mama and Daddy? I LOVE YOU!" He loves her so much, in fact, that when she left, he kept asking where she was, and has, for 5 days now, thrown MASSIVE tantrums at dinner time (his time to process why his new favorite person is no longer with him). How do I know it's over Joanna leaving? I don't 100%. But after about 15 minutes of screaming, crying, and flailing he scarfs down his food quite happily (including broccoli and kale), so it's not a food issue.

Wings Wildlife: Where you can pat and feed
kangaroos.
It. Is. AWESOME.

Joanna (and all of us) got to pat the baby Devil!

Who needs to pat a baby Tasmanian Devil?
Simon has LEAVES.
Because those are rare...

Simon being cheeky with the wonderful woman who was
giving talks and letting us pat the animals.

We all got to pat Doug,
the most adorable baby wombat EVER.

I thought a bird this large would be SCARY.
Nope, like me, he LOVES the emu!
He tried to share his water with it.

We miss you Joanna! We were so glad to have you visit us!

The Berry Patch

It wasn't too long ago, really, that we decided to try and do monthly family outings.

Nothing special, just a few hours where we could get out of the house and not worry about work, cleaning, schedules (other than nap time!), and just BE. Just our little family.

That kind of went on hold when Ben died. Partly because I was still recovering from my c-section. Partly because we let ourselves get wrapped up in "what needs to be done around the house" again, because that was easier. Combine that with Phillip having the busiest work schedule in nearly four years and then being so tired on the weekend he wasn't in much of an attitude to go out and do something. We just haven't gotten out for much more than grocery shopping in the past almost 4 months now.

But our friends (who also happen to be Phillip's employers... I have probably mentioned that at some point...) invited us to go berry picking with them last weekend.Somehow, the men ended up with a Monday off work (after having to work Saturday). So off to The Berry Patch we went.

It was the nicest day we have had in so so long.

The children's play area.
Large straw bales to climb on!

Relaxed, anxiety free (my first in months!), FUN.

And Phillip and I have no clue what the recipe for it was. Because we left late. Got a little lost finding the entrance. Didn't even get to spend all that much time with our friends and their kids (because we were late).

But it was wonderful.

Simon enjoyed tearing up and down the rows of berries, running full tilt and yelling. And QUICKLY discovered what a ripe blackberry looked like and (according to Phillip who was watching him at the time) grabbed several quicker than could be seen and stuffed them in his little mouth, running away quickly so he could do it again. He was pretty well covered in juice, and we had a fun time trying to teach him to NOT pick and eat.


We ended up with close to 3 kilos of strawberries that we have slowly been eating our way through, and about 1 of blackberries. HUGE blackberries.

Those blackberries? Half got turned into some fantastic blackberry pie bars (halving the recipe and cutting out 1/4c of sugar in the filling). If we don't eat the rest of the berries very soon, I might be making an apricot and blackberry cobbler again.








The day was finished with a short trip to the beach for some wading and digging in sand, heading home, and getting there JUST in time for a LOOOOONG nap for Simon, and some relaxed lounging for Phillip and me.

We also forgot Simon's swimming gear...

Simon remembered a spoon though.
He rarely goes anywhere without a measuring spoon...

Christmas:2014

Yes I'm posting this a bit late. I have reasons. Which will come in the next post. Also in this one. 

Christmas was an interesting combination of fun, relaxed, and heart-wrenchingly painful.

It was Simon's second Christmas and, at 19 months, he still doesn't GET it, but was old enough to actually enjoy opening gifts and playing with them. 

Reading Miki by Stephen Mackey

For 10 minutes. Then he discovered wrapping paper and boxes and the same stuff he takes out of the kitchen cupboards every day.

And while seeing him SUPER excited to open up his new cars and trucks was quite fun, when he put those off to the side because he opened up the books we'd gotten him while we were in Hobart, and sat on his daddy's lap for 15 minutes asking to be read to, my heart swelled with pride and melted a little bit. Because my child loves books! And I don't know that there is anything he can do at this age that would make me prouder.

It was so nice to have a quiet Christmas morning, just the three of us. To enjoy Simon's happiness and at the same time remember that we should have had little Ben with us, too, to share toys with, and kisses, and have pictures of his first Christmas. And we needed that quiet time together, the three of us, to remember, to cry, to laugh, and to prepare for the big family Christmas day with everyone from my husband's side of the family. 

HAM!
We love ham.

The night before I'd made a really nice Christmas Eve dinner of ham and veggies. And home-made cooked egg nog. Oh. My. YUM. We ate leftover cold ham for breakfast with, what is becoming kind of a tradition for us, fresh, flaky biscuits and eggs. We try to keep it small because Christmas lunch with my husband's family tends to be HUGE. And then they eat the leftovers cold for dinner. It's quite delicious.

No gingerbread house or TARDIS this year. Just plain cookies.

I tried adding to it, at least for immediate family members and some choice friends, anyway, by baking gifts this year. A combination of gingerbread, almond roca, and some chocolate chip cookie dough truffles (I can't choose a favorite. They were all fantastic to, um, taste-test...). I let Simon "help" me this year. Since gingerbread dough has no egg in it, I thought he could play with some of the dough while I made the cookies. Turns out, Simon LOVES gingerbread (he now ASKS for it yelling "Dindinbeh!") and immediately stuffed the bits of dough in his mouth and yelled for more. So, not wanting a toddler hyped up on sugar, I put a stop to his "helping" and gave him rice puffs instead. Later, he learned the art of stealing cookies while I am distracted frosting them. Was he helpful? No. Was it annoying? No. I decided when I started that I was going to enjoy the time with him no matter what. We spent time together doing things. Well worth loosing some gingerbread and time baking to make the memories I now have of him!

Bites of heaven.
I mean eggless chocolate chip cookie dough truffles.

This year was honestly probably the most relaxed and nice Christmas we've been to. 

Except that by the end, I had had more than enough socializing and pretending that I was ok. Because I wasn't. The one and only time I mentioned Ben's name and being in the hospital was during a legitimate story I was asked about (why Simon was running around singing, "Die Die Die!". It's from the song Dumb Ways to Die, which I had on my tablet the first time we were in the hospital waiting for scan results and ran out of ways to entertain Simon. So we let him watch it and he is kind of obsessed with it now). The people listening actually turned away from me. I mean legitimately turned their backs and stopped looking at me. To say it was hurtful would be downplaying what that felt like. It was one of those moments where I was tempted to yell "I DON'T HAVE A DISEASE!". I get that I am the face of pain to them right now, and they don't know what to do, but really, it was probably one of the worst things they could have done. Well, that, and ignore me. Which they did too. It was super fun, let me tell you...

You can use tractors and trucks to make cookies.
Right?

But Simon had fun. And that made most of it worth it. And by the end of the night, at home with Simon in bed, sitting with Phillip, a glass of wine, and watching Elf (after shedding copious amounts of tears, because you can't cry while watching Elf. It's too funny), I could say it was a nice Christmas with my little family. 

An Unexpected Goodbye

Today Phillip and I buried our second born, a son, Bennet.

He was born on October 21, stillborn. 4lbs 7ozs. With beautiful dark hair.

I haven't even reached my due date yet, November 28th.

I was only 33 weeks and a few days when he stopped moving normally and we went into the hospital one night, thinking, hoping, it was nothing.

But for reasons yet and maybe always unknown, our baby boy had had a massive brain hemorrhage, multiple and continuing we would find out later after being flown to Hobart for the emergency c-section that never happened because there was nothing that could be done for our little boy. Our Bennet.

Something about an ongoing development that caused it, something not seen on the 20 week scan. Something we could do nothing about. Something that would have taken his life sooner rather than later regardless of what we or the doctors did.

And I am completely and utterly heartbroken. And numb. And want to and need to write more, but I can't. Not just yet. Because I still can hardly say and believe the words "I have lost a son". Because my womb, my arms, are so very empty, and a grave that is so so tiny is full.

Special Saturday

Last weekend was the first Saturday we had without any obligations whatsoever in... neither Phillip nor I can remember when the last Saturday was. Several months at least. But Friday night, both of us say down, tired, cranky, realizing we hadn't had time as a family, just the three of us, in ages. Doing something fun, getting out of the house. Spending time TOGETHER.

And we were suffering for it. Simon was cranky, tired of being in the house, and missing spending time with his daddy, I was cranky, overworked, overwhelmed, and suffering from some major cabin fever, and Philip was overworked, listless, tired, and somewhat aloof because of it.

So we erased from our minds all the many many chores that needed doing, all the little extra cleaning and organizing projects that have piled up due to outside-the-house obligations and general taking care of a toddler business, made an agreement to ignore all texts and invites, and make plans for the day for just the three of us.

It was wonderful.

We did our normal special Saturday morning breakfast, which is really just something different from what we usually would eat throughout the week, and took it fairly easy and relaxed for the morning. It was, amazingly enough, a warmish and sunny day for winter, so we packed a simple lunch of peanut butter sandwiches and fruit, and left for Turner's beach for the afternoon.

Thankfully, the tide was out so there was a massive stretch of well-packed, not too wet sand for Simon to run around on like a crazy person. He loved it. He loved it even more when strangers walked by with their dogs, and he noticed that their were sea gulls. And that there were rocks he could throw. And that the world was so BIG. We didn't do much more than walk up and down the beach talking and watching Simon take everything in and enjoy himself, which was enjoyment enough for Phillip and me.

Chill dude wearing his Aunt Jojo's old sunglasses

Our one decent family photo in AGES

The fall looks worse than it was.
(Which is why I crack up every time I look at it)
He got right back up smiling and running around.

Look Mommy! I found a rock!

Found out he could throw rocks over things.

He read the whole way home.
This is his standard car activity.

On the drive home, after two hours of playing and eating, Philip and I talked about how... FUN the afternoon had been. How nice it was too just be our family, to relax together, and how important we both feel it is that we continue to do things like this together. Simon has such a natural love of the outdoors, and we want so much to encourage that. We want our children to have fun memories (or at least feelings of) little family outings. Nothing big, nothing expensive, just... us.