The Case of the Mysterious Poo

The subject of poo for a parent can be distressing (lack of it), irksome (too much of it) or, if you’re lucky, nothing to worry about at all. Potty training in our house was the one developmental thing I can honestly say I barely passed. Firstly, the timing was ALL off. First time around, she wasn’t ready. Second time, we had moved to Perth a few months ago and she had transitioned to a kid bed. Oh boy. The first day she had a 67% success rate with pees so I thought it’d be a home run. With pees, it certainly was. With poos, absolutely not. She just REFUSED to poo in the potty. She would tell us exactly after doing one. The only time she would do it on the potty was if she was buck naked, which was hard in winter. Yup, it was one of my lowest parenting points. However, three months later, 06*ding* she just got it and went to do a poo all by herself. Kids are so wonderful and so strange.

So my relationship with poo has been complicated. Yes, I’m very happy it happens regularly (sometimes I bit too regularly). However, when I think of those three months of cleaning it off knickers and shorts and the floor, I still cringe.

However, I think we can all agree that the subject of poo to a child is one of enormous hilarity. When it is in a book and in drawing form, adults find it pretty funny too. So it was with great pleasure that I read The Story of the Little Mole Who Went in Search of Whodunit by Werner Holzwarth and Wolf Erlbruch. Obviously a book about poo would be written by men. By the way, this was a comprehension reader, which for some reason made my giggle even more.

The Story of the Little Mole Who Went in Search of Whodunit

**SPOILER ALERT**

So, I’m going to just let the pictures do the talking. However, if you want to experience the poo humour for yourself, it’s a brilliant little introduction to the mystery genre for pre-schoolers with the added bonus of teaching them about different types of animal poo and comeuppance.

Lost in Wonderland

This is quite possibly the most exciting gift I have ever received, by proxy that is. Thanks to Iris’ most wonderful and almost psychic godmother, we now have one of the most beautiful books ever in our library. I was at least ten times more excited than Iris when she was presented the book.

Robert Sabuda is THE leading children’s pop-up book artist and paper engineer. Seriously, is there a more awesome job than doing cut and paste for a living?! Among his repertoire of absolutely, jaw-dropping gorgeous creations, Alice in Wonderland is one of his best. This is one post where words are basically useless and I have gone crazy with my phone camera. I still have the most ridiculous grin whenever I see it.

Disclaimer: DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, LET ANYONE WHO WOULD CAUSE THIS BOOK ANY HARM TOUCH IT BECAUSE IF ANY OF THIS BREAKS YOU WILL CRY. Or at least I will.

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Not That Kind of Mum

There are mums who never raise their voices or lose their temper. They take the time to get their children’s attention instead of yelling, then speak levelly with them and they never, ever resort to threats or bribery. I am NOT such a mum. But I try. Most of the time. Ok probably about 65% of the time. Or 60% depending on what kind of day it is.

Due to the other 35-40%, I feel the need to remind Iris regularly, that I love her no matter what. Even when I’m angry with her or when she’s angry with me. And I often catch myself feeling selfish or thinking selfish thoughts. Especially at bed time when I just want her to GO TO BED so I can do my own thing. She usually does but there’s a lot more whingeing and dawdling than I have the patience for at the end of a long day. This is where I feel I fail her most, that I don’t think of her more, put her needs before mine more. It’s as if even after five years, I still haven’t got the hang of this mum thing, which to the world at large, means sacrificing almost every aspect of your life to your child(ren). I’ve given up getting drunk, locking the bathroom door and dreams of fame and riches (as if they were a real possibility) but I’m sorry I don’t like sharing my food, especially when it’s the best bit I’ve been saving to eat right at the end of the meal.

Then again, sometimes (more than I’d like) Iris behaves in a manner, which I will plainly label – being a brat. This shames me because I feel I may be contributing to that behaviour either by example or by lack of correct parenting. I don’t want my child to be that kind of kid. The one other parents stare at and shake their heads in disgust. I wonder if I am spoiling her. I don’t want her to constantly ask for stuff, to only think of herself and not consider the feelings of those around her. Sure she’s only five, but I don’t think it’s too early to start ingraining that sense of others. Especially in today’s world where we’re bombarded with messages that “we’re worth it” and “we have to look out for ourselves”. It’s too often about me, myself and I. Isn’t that why I’m more selfish than I should be?

 

I guess right from the start, we’ve been struggling to be better human beings and while we should strive to be more selfless, we shouldn’t berate ourselves or our kids when we some times fall short.

This topic has been playing on my mind, particularly in the lead up to Good Friday and Easter.

Very often, a great picture book can illustrate the important lessons in life better than we could ever try to explain.

The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein

There hasn’t been a children’s book, nor, I think will there ever be one, that encapsulates the concept of unconditional love and generosity more than Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. I got a lot more emotional when I first read it than with any other picture book. This is more than a classic and one that every single child needs to read with their parents. In fact, parents probably need to read it more because it’s about accepting our children for who they are, continuing to love them even when they draw away from us, being there for them always and not blaming them for wanting to live their own lives. When the boy in the story grows up, he seems to be a rather selfish man, only ever taking from the tree and never giving anything back. Yet the story is about giving, not receiving. The tree is happy when she can give something, anything to the boy to make him happy. This is not how humans behave but perhaps it’s something we should aspire to. By giving of ourselves, and not material things, we show our children how to love.

Honestly, no summary can portray the utter wonderfulness of this book so just go and read it.

Home Alone

Now that Iris is in full time school, six hours a day, five days a week, I thought I’d have free time coming out my ears. Nope. In fact, I feel more busy than I was last year when she was in school a lot less. So let me just say for the record, especially to everyone who has ever even insinuated that stay-at-home-mums sit around on our arses all day long, WE DO NOT. In fact, speaking as a mum who has both worked full time with a child and is now staying at home, I am FAR busier now than I was when I was working. I do not want to go into a long argument but because I’m at home and I don’t feel entitled to pamper myself since we only have one income, I end up doing a lot more STUFF for the family and the house. Just look at how long it’s taken me to find time to write a blog since my last post. As a result, I am actually trying to find a job so I can, perhaps, actually sit on my arse for half a day.

So anyway, Iris is in pre-primary now. She really enjoys school and has all her bffs in her class again. Sometimes I look at her and think how big she’s grown and how much more independent she is. Then I’ll look at her and think, no she’s still so tiny and I just want to smother her with protectiveness. Yet I have to remind myself that she needs to be allowed to grow and do her own thing. I am reminded of this particularly when I notice her try and boss her father around. She even tried bossing me around but that didn’t last very long. Heh.

Ingenious Jean by Susan Chandler and Kate Leake was another op-shop find th    at I’ve grown to love. It encourages creativity, perseverance, resilience (to sarcasm) and individuality.

Ingenious Jean

While her brother and sister engage in common kid behaviour, Ingenious Jean loves inventing stuff from things she already has on hand (recycling!). The first three goes are not quite successful as she seems to have invented things that already exist.

Ingenious Jean

This is very politely and considerately pointed out by her siblings, which is a great lesson for us adults on how to handle our children’s creative output.

Ingenious Jean

Yet Jean doesn’t give up and is finally awarded inventive success.

Ingenious Jean

Ingenious Jean

Iris often surprises me with her intelligence and creativity and I give appropriately excited praise. However, I do need to remember to encourage her even when it’s a horse made of corks that has three legs and no head. I don’t believe in indiscriminate praise because I think kids need to know when something is not up to par, particularly when I know she hasn’t put in much effort. So encouragement refers to acknowledging their effort, however small, finding the positive and helping them to see how it could be better. Believe me, this is very hard for me as my default is sarcasm so this is what I’m aiming for, not what I actually do all the time.

Making Them Feel Special

So about a third of Iris’s library is made up of hand-me-downs from her cousins and among them is Max Lucado’s You Are Special.

You Are Special

We always say the year has flown by at the end of it but somehow this year really has gone quicker than previous years. This is probably because so much has happened and how busy we’ve all been. For Iris it has been a tremendous year! She’s formed her first girl posse; learned to read; learned to swing herself on the swing; had her first successful ballet concert in front of a big audience on a real stage; AND stopped sucking her finger (this one is huge and I will do another post just on this later). I try to let her know just how proud of her I am but words really cannot express it all. What I fear is for her to lose her sense of self-worth for whatever reason because I know the world, and especially other kids, can be cruel.

This is why a story like this is so important.

In the world of the Wemmicks, small wooden people carved by a woodworker named Eli, they rate each other with dots and stars. Those with lots of stars are admired for their looks or talents. Those with dots are looked down on because they’re not pretty enough or good enough at anything. One Wemmick with lots of dots is Punchinello. No matter how hard he tries, he couldn’t seem to stop getting dots. And he believed he deserved them.

You Are Special

Then one day, he meets Lucia who has no dots or stars at all. When other Wemmicks tried to give her a star or dot, it would just fall off. Punchinello wanted that too so Lucia told him to go see Eli.

You Are Special

Filled with self-doubt, Punchinello did.

You Are Special

There, Eli told him he shouldn’t care what the other Wemmicks thought of him because he thought Punchinello was special.  If Punchinello focused on what Eli thought of him, it wouldn’t matter what anyone else thought.  “Why don’t the stickers stay on her (Lucia)?” “The stickers only stick if they matter to you.” “I’m not sure I understand.” “You will, but it will take time. For now, come to see me every day and let me remind you how much I care.” As Punchinello began to believe Eli, a dot fell off.

You Are Special

It’s not just about God, everyone should feel special because we all are. No matter your race, religion, colour of eyes or whether your hair is straight or curly. Everyone is entitled to feel unique, beautiful and worthwhile as a human being. As a parent, it’s so important that we help our children retain their sense of self-worth and for the most part I think I do okay. There are times when I feel like I don’t deserve to be a mum and that’s why I’m really glad Iris has someone else, far more qualified than me, to fall back on to tell her how wonderful she is. This is my Christmas wish for her and all kids, that they’ll always have someone to tell them they are beautifully and wonderfully made and no one has a right to make them feel bad for being who they are.

XOXO

Getting All Arty Farty

It’s been about 2.5 months since my last post. We’ve had a pretty major happening in our nuclear family, which I’m still deciding whether to talk about. Also, I have been INSANELY busy. Every morning I wake up feeling hungover without the good part! Then there’s Paris. I am not going to go into that because this is not what this blog is about. It’s about recognising little mercies, artistry and beauty, something the world sorely needs.

Therefore I am going to give a big shout out to art in all its myriad forms, good and bad. Appreciating art is not about being snooty, turtle-neck adorned, squinting know-it-alls who use the words “minimal”, “je ne sais quoi” and “composition”. It’s about being moved. It’s about human expression. It’s about being transported away from and into the depths of what it means to be human and to live on this earth. Before I float away on my cloud of existentialism, let me introduce the inimitable Hervé Tullet’s The Game of Sculpture.

I am a strong believer in instilling a love for the arts from diaper stage. No matter if the child prefers eating the paint than looking at it, or joining in the modern interpretive dance with gusto. We’ve been dragging Iris to museums since she was a few months old; taking her to live performances; and my favourite children’s event of the year in Perth is the Awesome Festival, an arts festival for kids. Being able to appreciate the arts just makes life so much more interesting and filled with loveliness. It really helps to remind all of us, but especially mini people, that human beings are capable of creating beauty and not just of destruction.

Published by the pinnacle of arty farty publishing, Phaidon, The Game of Sculpture is not a book in the traditional sense. It teaches colours, shapes AND physics! All without words so kids can get into it all by themselves! And you know what, I don’t think there’s any shame in us adults, sitting quietly, trying to create something pretty, even if meaningless, from time to time.

the game of sculpture

It comes as a long fold out cardboard with pop out pieces and a sleeve.

the game of sculpture

Dark colours on one side

the game of sculpture

Light colours on the other

And here are just a few examples of what you can do with it! Pieces can be balanced, slotted and angled, hence the physics element. It’s not complicated but if you’re lazy to whip out the paints and dough, this’ll do in a pinch for a good half an hour.

the game of sculpture

the game of sculpture

the game of sculpture

*NB: Not for kids in the mouthing/destructive phase. The child also needs to have pretty good fine motor skills so probably more for 4 and up, or if you’re prepared to invest the time, you could do it with them.

My Baby Can Read!

This reading mum is so bursting with pride I just had to post this. Iris read her first book on her own!

Now, she has been sounding out words for several months already but it’s never been a sustained length of text, just random words. In the last few months, she’s grown familiar with all the letter sounds and can more easily piece them together. She can recognise many two-letter sounds as well like th and sh. So on Sunday, I took out the stack of classic Ladybird Key Words Reading Scheme books that were gifted and have been sitting around thinking she might want to try.

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I started the process with the first one, helping her sound out the words. After that, she took off and read the whole book by herself!

Jane and Peter

Then the next morning, I woke up and found her reading the next in the series. I stood outside the door barely able to contain the tears, grinning like a monkey. Then of course I had to grab my phone and take a video. #mybabysnotababyanymore #happyandproudbutsadtoo

Morning read

Does this mean an end to my enjoyment of children’s books? Are you kidding me? She can read but can she do the voices?

AND THEN after that uber intellectual start to the day, in the evening, I heard, “Mama, can you help me? I’m stuck.” She had wedged her head, arm and other hand into the little curve at the end of the banister and was balancing precariously on the stair railing. Nice. #monkeyswillbemonkeys

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