Thursday, 7 April 2011


Isn't it amazing how that first day of rain after...well, in our case, a drought, is enough to put a smile on your face as soon as you wake up?  Listening to the pitter patter on the tin roof this morning almost made the 6.10am wake-up call from Niamh bearable.  Almost.  I am NOT a morning person, no matter how I seem to be living the life of one.

The smell of rain and wet grass is something that touches me on some kind of cellular level.  One of those true, "Ahhhhhhhhh," moments - like when you've left the city behind on a long drive south, or (way back when) the first day of school holidays.

 We made the most of the weather by taking a walk to the park.  Niamh had a wonderful time running up and down the "castles" - which are nothing more than a few concrete paving stones set into a small grass hill.  Everyone had to have a turn climbing up and running down - the bike, the ball, Mama, a leaf...  It was all great fun, and amazing to watch Niamh's imagination take shape.  Seems like only yesterday she was a little pink and squeaking bundle of random noises and jerky movements (*cough* I say, as she runs around the kitchen as I type, squealing at the top of her lungs and flinging her toys around like a small tornado).

Every day now, I am treated to new surprises.  Today, she chugged her way through the alphabet, hampered only by her physical inability make the correct sounds for K, S and Z.  She loves to see the letters written down, and will point them out enthusiastically - even cheekily turning M upsidedown to make a W and back again.  She gets it.  Not even 2 years old, and she gets it.

Yesterday, when I put her lunch on her table, I got a big smile and a, "thank you, Mama."  Proof absolute that children don't need to be shamed into having good manners forced on them, since we have never made her say please or thank you.  They learn what you teach them, plain and simple.  But more on that whole topic another time...

Tomorrow, I will hopefully get time to finish and upload some photos of the new games I have made for Niamh - some tactile numbers for counting, and a colourful counting fish game, inspire by the one I saw HERE on the wonderful Counting Coconuts blog.  We have a version of it at our Montessori playgroup, but I like Mari-Ann's version much better.  I will hopefully also get a chance to work on a little caterpillar/butterfly display I thought up today, after finding a few cocoons at the park.  All up to the boss, of course...

(I also have a few hobby horses to make, a cloth doll pattern to trial for Niamh...and a billion other things to do.  Bah.)

I hope it rains again tomorrow.

Tuesday, 5 April 2011

A Beginning...

We all have to start somewhere, I suppose.  And so here I begin...

A few things occur to me as I sit, staring at my blank screen, waiting for words to magically appear:

1.  I am more computer illiterate than even I thought possible.  Or possibly more sleep-deprived.  Either way, the outcome is the same.  Embarrassing to admit, but it has taken me three nights to work out how to actually write these rather pointless words in this very simply-designed application.  And what is more humbling to learn is that I am proud of this meagre achievement and so therefore must also now deal with the certainty that I will not go far in life...

2.  I don't really have anything of value to impart.  A lot of rambling, ranting and, yes, pointless things will be written here.  I guess I should offer up an apology now, since once I become carried away with the illusion of my own importance, I will soon forget that no one else cares what I say here.

3.  The purpose - snort, cough - of this blog is multifold, and to that end, I am still unsure.  I plan to write a little about my life, and the life of our family; my daughter and my choices in raising her the way my partner and I see best; attachment parenting and my experiences good and bad; natural learning; my dogs; and the occasional paltry offering of the written word.

I was once a writer.  Now...I am a blogger.

I will do my best to reconcile the two, and with luck, I might take a few of you with me.

Be welcome.  Be peaceful.  Be willing.

Thank you.