Kite Girl

Sofia

 

Our second trip to Noosa. Its only a short drive from Daddy's clinic and with the summer weather warming the water we are loving having the beach within striking distance of home.

 

This kite was a gift last Christmas. Previous attempts to get it properly airborne have been thwarted by poor conditions, trees, power lines and a lack of space. The kite was out of its bag and up in the air with almost no effort. You ran up and down the beach, beaming with joy as the kite lifted ever higher, the rainbow ties of the tail a gorgeous contrast against the clear blue skies.

 

We reminisced about kites from our childhood, sticks and brown paper, held together with tape and a string. I remember flying a kite at the back of our house, and it was a delight to show you how to make your kite dance over the sand.

 

Let's go fly a kite...again soon one day.

 

Tripping

Sofia

 

Daddy has started working at a new clinic at Cooroy on Mondays. Sometimes we drop him at work and then go exploring. Recently we went to the Noosa Botanical Gardens, following the brown tourist signs, and stumbled across a wonderful oasis.

 

Ofra was visiting from Israel, and we wandered around admiring the plants and the sculptures. Tucked away on the edge of Lake Macdonald, I knew that we'd found a place that will become a site for family picnics, regular visits and lakeside walks.

 

Hammock

Sofia

Daddy hung a hammock on the front porch. It's blue and white stripes match the colour of the house. We bought the hammock years ago and it's been hiding in various linen cupboards waiting for the right place.

 

It has well and truly found its home. Visitors enjoy afternoon naps. Daddy enjoys a break from working in the sun. You like to sit and swing as you enjoy a snack.

 

The hammock represents many of the dreams Daddy and I have for this place. A slower pace. Release from the struggle of finding work life balance and instead just embracing life on the property.

 

This is the first of hopefully many hammock photos.

Stealth

Sofia

I download photos from my phone, my digital camera and Dad's digital SLR. And then I occasionally remember to have a look at the photos you've been taking on your little digital camera. There are always plenty of photos of your dolls, the floors and random shots of furniture but sometimes there is a sneaky gem in the mix.

Here is one shot, which I'm using through stealth. Natalie flew in from a week in Bali and drove straight up to the forest to join us. Her arrival was a welcome diversion from the fact that the night before you and Daddy had been in an accident in my car. You scrambled out of the car, unharmed, but we needed a tow truck to take the car off, never to be driven again.

Snip

Sofia

Yet another visitor came to enjoy our forest, but this time you and I both enjoyed an open air hair cut. Thanks for the matching bobs Amanda No 2.

Mandy

Sofia

A friend of Daddy's, Amanda, came to visit. You love it when we have company; sharing, expressing, relating. We are always so busy caught up enjoying the visit that I forget to take photos. 

The day after Amanda's visit you painted. 

'Who's that?', I asked, assuming it was me and you. 

'It's Mandy and me, mummy', you declare assuredly, as if it should be obvious. 

'Oh yeah, of course', relaxing into my seat, happy in the knowledge that I'm not always the centre of the universe. 

Sock It

Sofia

I've always prided myself on my laundry skills. And I enjoy doing the laundry - sorting, washing, hanging, folding, ironing. Most of all I've never suffered from odd sock syndrome. You changed that and you love this little pair of odd socks so I just keep partnering them up and you keep pulling them on.

They look great with your gum boots, running shoes, dancing shoes and sometimes your thongs. But most of all I like them when you are playing around the house on the wooden floors. Or on the front steps enjoying breakfast with a view.

Settling In

Sofia

We moved house seven weeks ago. We've been busy, unpacking boxes, assembling furniture, working through a long list of things to do and fix. I've been writing blogs in my head for weeks. Tonight, sitting at Nana and Grandad's I find some time and space to write. 

As I look through some photos I took on the day of settlement I marvel at how well you've handled the change. New home, new bedroom, new routines. Changes to your child care arrangements and our social network. Commuting to Brisbane for three days and then back to the property for more busy days as we work through an endless list of tasks. Just getting ourselves settled is challenging. On top of that we are planning new additions and there is a lot of work ahead. 

You've lost your one on one days with each of us and I miss it. Maybe it is time to again adjust the routine to again capture some of that mummy-daughter and daddy-daughter time as it is only months before you start school. 

All of these thoughts float through my head as I rediscovered this photo of you from 23 June. I'm reminded that I need to pull the table you are carrying out of the shed again. It feels like this phase of your childhood is quickly coming to an end and I don't want to miss any more of it. I need to divert my attention from those packing boxes, paperwork and hardware and get back to some painting, play dough and pretending.  

Gioia

Sofia

I hope you look back at this photo and remember today. Many things will change over the coming years but you are our greatest joy.

The Pocket

Sofia

We drive two hours north and arrive at our new house at the same time as Billy the real estate agent. You shyly say hello, we inspect the property, receive the keys and then get started on a quick clean while Daddy unloads equipment into the shed. 

Carmen mops the floors while I clean spider webs and window frames. There isn't much to do as the lovely vendors have already cleaned. They have also charmingly left us a welcome note and freshly cut flowers and home made jam. 

You insist on helping, claiming the mop and pushing it around with great gusto. Then you focus your cleaning attentions on me and I ask you to wipe down the door to your new bedroom. Earnestly wiping and swiping, you stop only briefly to instruct me that when the door is closed we will not be allowed to come in as you will be sleeping. 

Your bed is yet to arrive. In fact it will be two days before we strip the sheets and load the frame and mattress onto the back of the moving van. But you are already planning the rainbow curtains and I'm pleased that you are happy to be moving. In fact, you insist that we stay at the new house all day but it cannot be. 

We pack up the cleaning supplies, enjoy a quick picnic lunch under the warm winter sun and then head back to Brisbane for your last swimming lesson with Anne. As we drive the two hours south we receive news that the settlement has taken place and we are now the proud owners of rural acreage and a blue and white Queenslander perched on a hill.  You are sleeping in the back seat, but Daddy is very emotional and we hold hands as I drive, breathing in as the news reaches my heart and I know life is about to change for us all. 

The Pocket adventure has started. 

June 23rd

Sofia

It's a big day. You spent last night tossing and turning in our bed, waking daddy repeatedly. I abandoned the big bed early on and slept solidly under your pink doona and one of the patchwork quilts Nana has lovingly made for you. 

My alarm wakes me and I tip toe into the shower and rouse myself while you both continue to slumber. 

Dad is up and dressed. I whisper in your ear that today we are going to the new house again. Your eyes flash open and you sit up, sleep slipping from your face. You skip down the hallway and appear back in the kitchen dressed in an ensemble that warms my heart. Pink and gold animal print Hello Kitty high top sneakers all the way from Germany (thanks Esther), pink leggings and a denim skirt that kicks out charmingly. A pink top and a hand knitted cardigan in variegated pink, blue and cream that your great great Aunty Vi knitted. 

The fridge and cupboard are a little bare as we have been running down supplies in preparation for our move so we make a pile of cheese on toast for breakfast and stand in the kitchen discussing the coming day as we eat. 

It's a big day....June 23rd. 

Change

Sofia

Change is coming. I watched you snuggle up with Daddy this morning, and felt a pang as I realized that our days in this house are coming to end. It's been a manically busy time, packing up, juggling work and childcare, travelling, endless to-do-lists.

This morning in the car you went through all the things in your head that need to be done. 

Go to school today - check

Two more sleeps - check

Pack my painting - check

Pack my playdough - check

Take my dolls and toys - check

Put my clothes in a bag - check

Go to the new house - check

A to-do-list of your own. My heart exploded with pride. 

It's been a busy few weeks and it's only going to get busier but you are the catalyst that has made this change a reality. A dream that Daddy and I have shared for many years, and we are more than excited to be sharing it with you. 

A change is coming...and while you grow and change just a little every day, the joy of you remains the same. 

Content

Sofia,

The lights are out. Night time routine done. I'm lying next to you, penguin pillow supporting my head. Your head rests on the star princess pillow your great Aunt Marina gave you last June while we were in Italy. I'm dozing off, thinking to myself I should get up, get on with something. 

You turn to look at me through the dark, eyes bright. 

You: "Mum, I don't want to get bigger".

Me: "Really, why?"

You: "I want to stay like this, just like this". 

I think about what to say, my head acknowledging the fact that it's unlikely you'll stay just like this, my heart suggesting that you are already perfection. The conflict rages on inside me. I simply say, "We'll see". 

There's something to be learnt from childhood declarations like these. Living right now, in the moment, being content with who you are at this time. What a lesson, what a joy. 

Suburbia

Sofia

We moved to this northern Brisbane suburb when you were six months old. Four years later and you stride, skip and run around the streets of our suburban pocket. You grow, learn, talk, share and I wonder, delight, observe and savour. These moments of suburban bliss are true, but fleeting. Much like your childhood. 

Melancholy

Sofia

I've been busy and distracted this weekend. Friday delivered some news that will change our lives dramatically. Saturday and Sunday have seen us start to prepare for that change. 

After all the distractions and busyness we walked to Hidden World park this afternoon, an hour before dusk, for a swing, a slide, a climb and a chance to get the sand between the toes. You tackle equipment you haven't dared approach before; climbing up the rubber webbing and clambering down the knobbly pole. 

I watch, take photos to capture the afternoon, knowing it might be one of our last regular visits to this space. I feel melancholy. This is the park where you crawled, toddled, walked and ran. Where you now get on the big swing and use your legs to propel yourself into the air. 

This is the space where you still stand back and observe the other kids jostling and negotiating, waiting for a clear moment to climb up the dinosaur. You wait on the edge, high above the sand, asking for help. I have previously stood below in the sand and caught you as your launched yourself into the air. This time I'm perched up on the fort, camera poised, and encourage you to take the leap and jump down solo. I watch you hesitate and count you down, "One, two....three, go!" You jump and land in the sand, face peering up with delight, "I did it, yay". I take your photo as you climb one more rung on the ladder of self confidence. 

The melancholy washes over me. We are going to miss this park. But the trade off will be worth it. 

Bath Swims

Sofia

Last year you would sometimes come home from a swimming lesson on Monday and get in the bath to practice your technique.

 

This year you're getting longer, or maybe the bath is getting smaller.

 

Regardless, I still occasionally catch you stretching out, talking to yourself, repeating the phrases you've heard countless times at the pool....big arms, kiiiick, face in the water.

 

I took this photo in July 2013, when you were still earnestly doing your big arms and going nowhere.

You are becoming a better swimmer all the time, but this year has since you take some big leaps...I mean laps.

 

Never Say Never

Sofia

Watching you grow, develop, learn, change and challenge fascinates me more than I could have imagined.

 

Motherhood - one of the best, late, forget-that-I-used-to-say-never, decisions I ever made.

 

August 2013 photo.

Up Close

Sofia

Sorting through photos I took last year I discover these and can't help share them. We'd been playing soccer and your face reflects the heat and the game. I see this face everyday and marvel at your openness. You are quick to smile, laugh, share a joke and all of that shines in your eyes.  

 

 

Tenterfield Field

Sofia

Nana and Grandad were in Tenterfield house sitting for some friends so we joined them for a weekend in the country. A neighbouring property was explored and you took some photos.

And I took a photo of you taking a photo. Cheese.

October 2013.

Laidley lunch

Sofia

 

A flashback to October last year. Our search for a rural property has taken us to most corners of South East Queensland, including the lovely Laidley, where you tackled your first Aussie pie. Even though it was chicken and not beef, you smothered it in tomato sauce then lifted the lid and mined your way through the filling....just like your mother does it. With a utensil. I was so proud.

 

The Aussie male thing of lifting a whole piping hot pie to your lips and then shoving it in, flaky pastry falling on the ground while you juggle the slightly soft base pastry to make sure it stays in tact and the gravy meat filling doesn't also hit the floor...well, it's over rated.

 

May you continue eating pies with some delicacy and decorum, enjoying the deconstruction process, all the flaky pastry and the filling after it cools enough to no longer strip the skin off your palette.

 

My girl.

 

Bend It

Sofia

Soccer with dad at the park. 'No hands, just feet' he reminds you constantly.

I watch you for signs of a future soccer champion. You pick the ball up again.

Plenty of time before you need to worry about playing women's soccer at the Olympics.

Dragons

Sofia

 

I bought you a dragon costume and in October you dressed up. You raced up and down the footpath, roaring and growling. Your green tail swinging wildly as you jumped and raised your claws.

 

I took a series of photos. The problem was deciding which photos to use. I narrowed it to three. 

Super Girl

Sofia

Hidden World is a park within walking distance of our house. We've watched you explore, play and grapple with the challenges as you've grown.

In November 2013 I took some photos of you trying out some of the equipment for the first time. You conquered the dinosaur and spun on the weird swing under the fort.

It must have been the super hero shirt you were wearing that day. Or maybe, just maybe, you're getting bigger. At least that's what you're always reminding me.

Your favourite catch cries are:
Look mum, I'm bigger.
Look mum, I can do it.

It's true.

Fairy Pen

Sofia

Another photo from December last year. A hot day, a barbecue with friends and early Christmas presents were exchanged.

I love this shot.

Birthday Joy

Sofia

All 4th birthdays needs three important things - presents, cake and family.  Yours did not disappoint.

You delight in the simplicity - Little Miss books and a new Hello Kitty dress. A pink cake with candles and a tea set from Nana and Grandad.

The joy of being four.

 

Zoo for the Fourth

Sofia

The photos from your fourth birthday have been sitting on my computer since December, quietly waiting for some attention. We spent the day at Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary. You fearlessly approached the kangaroos, big and small, offering up your little outstretched hand for them to nibble at the pellets. We wandered by the towering emu, marvelled at the koala nursery and watched the sheep dogs round up their flock.

 

You were only six months old on our last visit. It was a special day with special friends from Japan. I think back to that day. You were strapped on to dad's chest, watching the world with a toothy grin, kicking your little legs and dozing off as the midday sun rose.

The four year old you are now is an inspiring creature. I didn't think you could be any more beautiful, or engaging or interesting than you were as a baby. How little I knew.

Cashed Up

Sofia

 

On a rare trip to a toy shop before Easter I bought a toy cash register. You love it, and I love that you are already practicing for your part time teenager job.

Spinning

Sofia

A local park has one of your favourite things...it's called a Spinna. Your face lights up and I remember the feeling of freedom from such childhood excitement and fun.

Heaven

Sofia

Even though it's all about pink, I love your bedroom. But it's impossible to really capture the way it looks and feels. I sneak into your room each night to check you are sleeping soundly, cover you up if the temperature has dropped, Bluey tucked up beside you.

The mobile above your head is a collection of origami Daddy made following our trip to Japan. In fact I'm sure he was obsessed with origami at the same time that you came into being. I spent hours one day winding white wool around the perfect branch and then delicately stringing each piece so it balanced.

You sleep on a breastfeeding cushion I asked Nana to make. She also made the two square pillows beside you. The blue star pillow was a gift from your great Aunt Marina on our last trip to Italy.

The cube of treasures hangs on the wall. It's full of special things collected since your birth, many of them from Italy and international friends. You regularly climb up and retrieve your favourites. I put them back, torn between the desire to pack them away in tissue paper and wanting you to enjoy them.

Your room is a special place, a haven, a little piece of heaven.

City Girl

Sofia

 

Last month we spent a day in the city. At the library, at the museum looking at the dinosaurs and then across the pedestrian bridge for lunch. As we waited for my friend you entertained yourself completely oblivious to the pastel architectural features above and the slate flooring beneath your feet. It was all about the climbing, balancing, jumping and repeat.

 

Frog Friends

Sofia

 

One February afternoon we walk up to Aldi through the misty rain. We found this little fellow on the path and he made himself at home of your jacket. Two little green frogs friends. 

Bathing Beauty



Sofia

 

Bath time is always sweet. You play, we talk. Your lashes and cheeks still carry a touch of babyhood.

 

I miss that chubby little baby. I'm fascinated by the little girl you've become.

 

Explore

Sofia

 

We explored a local park. I capture you balancing, swinging, climbing, jumping. As you run towards me you call out, 'No more photos now Mummy'. I put the camera down and come to balance, swing, climb and jump with you. In the moment.