Memorykeeping: a peek

Memorykeeping has always been important to me. My parents kept a handmade baby album for me, bursting from its binding with cards, drawings, photos and teeny gym certificates. They also kept scrapbooks from every trip they took: Dad collected endless pamphlets and ticket stubs, and Mum wrote the captions for photos. When we were old enough to write, my parents encouraged both my sister and I to keep travel diaries. I'm so pleased that they persisted once the novelty wore off for us - they are priceless keepsakes. The habit took hold, and as a young adult adventuring around the world I found myself collecting ticket stubs, postcards and feathers, and although it sometimes felt like it was becoming a bit of a nuisance to pause and reflect when excitement beckoned, I would stay firm about writing a diary entry and pasting in the day's collection of papers and beautiful things.

The past month or so I have been working on Saskia's baby album. Watching the beautiful leather bound album triple in size. I'm nearly finished sticking in the bits and pieces I've collected over the last few years, but I still need to go back and write on each page. When I'm finished I'd love to post a little about it.

I've always been inspired by Ronnie's memorykeeping process. It's why I was a teeny bit beside myself when she put the call out for the Life:Captured workshop and I signed up straightaway. I've been counting down since early June. I'm travelling to Sydney and I'll spend my first two night's away from Saskia...

There's going to be a baby

Thank you for all the sweet comments on our announcement. It feels exciting and all very real now that the nausea is behind me. There's going to be a baby...in just over 4 months.

Of course there is much to look forward to about having a new baby, but I find myself constantly focusing on what it will feel like to watch a relationship develop between Saskia and this new little one. Already Saskia is quite fascinated by babies; besotted with her dearest cousin, Baby Bea, and new little friend, Baby Elle, and inclined to kiss baby strangers on the head (cute but a tad embarrassing at times). I'm under no illusion that this is certain to pave the way for a strong, instant and unwavering bond, but I'm grateful and happy that the interest is there.

We've been reading a lot of books lately about new babies in the family, being a big sister, and books that illustrate the ways of babies in gentle and subtle ways. Here are some of our favourites:

There's a House Inside my Mummy ... Giles Andreae and Vanessa Cabban
There's Going to be a Baby ... John Burningham and Helen Oxenbury (I fell truly madly deeply for the illustrations in the bookstore)
Rosie's Babies ... Martin Waddell, Penny Dale
101 Things to do with a Baby ... Jan Ormerod (I rave briefly about this beautiful classic here)
Ellen and Penguin and the New Baby ... Clara Vulliamy
I'm a Big Sister ... Joanna Cole

Please let me know if you and your little ones have any favourites. I'd love to hear.

3 + 1

It's been a bit quiet around here lately...and for a pretty good (and most wonderful) reason. If you haven't already guessed, you could find out by watching this little video that K and I had so much fun putting together. I'll be back soon with more details...and look forward to visiting your spaces again now I'm finally out of the fog x

*Inspired by some programs we've been doing at the gallery we made this video using this super easy little app and a final (amateur) edit in iMovie.

Little One Baby magazine

Oh dear. I've not been here in this space much lately and now when I do post it's a blatant brag!

Saskia's room was featured in the latest issue of Little One Baby magazine. Photos were taken earlier this year by the super sweet Masha of Masha Zaric photography - and words were threaded by that talented creative spirit, Jodi.

It was hard to tell who was most proud about the article, and I think it's a tough call between Vovo (K's mum, who almost shed tears and kept repeating over and over again in Portuguese, oh what a beautiful family) and Grandfather (who managed to hunt down a copy of the magazine hours after it hit the stands). Despite a slighly goofy family portrait (!) I know it will make a treasured keepsake. Thank you Masha and Jodi and Little One Baby.

If you pick up a copy of the magazine, there is also a feature on Otis and Casper's room from How We Montessori. I adore their simple and thoughtfully considered spaces. Just a little in awe of Kylie...

*Photos by Masha Zaric photography for Little One Baby

27/52

She hands anyone who comes over a book* from her basket and waits expectantly. Watching these two I notice how much like my mother I've become. 

A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, as a one year old.

Taking part in Jodi's weekly portrait series

*I picked up this book (the 1984 version) at a preschool fete knowing Jan Ormerod is a bit of a genius. It quickly became her favourite book. You just never know. I'm not sure what it is about this book that Sassy is so intrigued by. She recognises the rhythm of the daily routine depicted? The book feeds her fascination with babies (bebes)? The comic style format or perhaps just the simplicity of the hand drawn illustrations? If you spot any of Jan's books on your adventures I recommend you snap them up. 

Return

Today was my first day back at work. I sipped my smoothie from the kitchen bench and couldn't look at you without feeling a tingle of tears. You spent the day with your Dada and visited your little cousins. I spent the day wondering about what games you were playing, if you woke up in a mood to read books in your cot and whether you asked for me, calling my name, mumma, with a question mark.

In truth, I did enjoy the bus ride into work reading a new book, catching up with dear friends who also happen to be work colleagues and inspiring ladies, being surprised with a welcome back card and small gift, and walking out for lunch as soon as the hunger hit. I longed for that cuddle from you at the end of the day.

As you and your Dada walked through the door at the end of the day (I beat you home...that wasn't how I imagined it either), I waited for the look of sweet jubilation to cross your face. Bubbies? Bubbies? You took one look at me and launched yourself at the basket of dolls and dress ups.

Easter: The first real hunt*

Things you loved: the chance to run amok with your three little cousins, wearing fluffy bunny ears and your birthday tutu (you twirled, and twirled and twirled), eating lunch at the littles' table with the TV turned on (you were looking at me like, get out of town...no way), digging up Vovo's garden mid hunt,   the bunny statue you discovered in the courtyard that morning (you knelt down to give him a little kiss)...but I'd be lying if I didn't admit that eating chocolate was probably the highlight.

This year we had a mini hunt at home in the morning. Mum and Dad were at the Blues Festival so K and I hid a small Kinder chocolate from Grandfather in the courtyard, and found a little home for the bunny from JanMa. We went to Vovo's in the afternoon for lunch and the Big Backyard Hunt. Vovo gave you bunny ears and a basket and I watched you swing it round the garden, thinking how grateful and happy I am that you are going to grow up adored by, and adoring these beautiful cousins of yours.

*Last year you slept through the hunt in Vovo's backyard!

Change

In a month's time I return to work. For two days a week Saskia will be looked after by others: one of these days she'll be spend with her JanMa, and on the other she is going to a childcare centre.

I work in gallery education and know I'm lucky to have an arrangement where I can return to work part time. My job is intensely rewarding, varied and the best kind of mix of challenging and familiar. But right now, the return to work countdown is making me feel awfully sad.

I know she'll revel in the attentions of her doting grandparents, cooking pikelets and exploring enchanted gardens; I know she'll learn valuable lessons about sharing spaces with other children and waiting a turn; I know I'll embrace our days together with renewed enthusiasm, and will marvel at how grown up she seems.

All this I know will be true, but I still feel a heavy weight of sadness. Our weeks will soon include days together - and days spent apart. I will juggle paid work, and the glorious and not-so-glorious unpaid work. I will feel torn. I will wonder how you are feeling, whether you ate your yogurt, what you were like when you woke, and whether you have called my name. I will miss you Little One.

*These photos were taken on a recent outing to Sculpture Garden Sunday. Such cleverly crafted outdoor art activities for little ones: tape graffiti on garden walls, sculptures crafted from venetian blinds, bright texta drawings on plastic sheets, etc. The highlight though, was most definitely the musical entertainment, Doctor Stovepipe (an old favourite from way back here!). She twirled and bounced and clapped until we dragged her away.

19/52

A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, as a one year old.

She watched as JanMa walked ahead with her hands behind her back...and then she followed. Memorial Gardens at Tuross, South Coast.

Taking part in Jodi's weekly portrait series

Simple pleasures of ordinary days

...I have a little crush on his work ever since seeing it at Megalo moons ago, and there's now an exhibition in this space
...A little pocket of public art gold in our city
...She explores while I follow with a coffee
...JanMa helped us plant a little crate garden
...Grandfather is a playdough comedian
...A chilly January morning
...the view from Grandfather's shoulders, and
...the view from the Village Centre here

Joining Em and creating a collection of weekly images, recording simple pleasures of ordinary days.

Simple pleasures of ordinary days

...the hidden beauty of rice grain porcelain; a birthday present that was carried across the seas
...the perfect use of such a delicate dish: to cradle these heavenly treats (teamed with peppery chai)
...her mealtime companions
...janma and grandfather brought her home a collection of shells from the south coast and she inspected every one
...the best kind of gift (green and wrapped with love)
...magic basket rides with her best friend (but it's these images that give me butterflies)
...it's a little silly that I get such a kick out of rotating the toys
...chopping into my Frankies to make gift tags

Joining Em and creating a collection of weekly images, recording simple pleasures of ordinary days.

Resemblance

Can you see it?

These are photographs taken when we lived in Ottawa, Canada, for a year when I was one. After posting this portrait I dug out the ring bound family albums with yellowing pages and my mum's neatly printed captions, searching for the photographs that flash in front of my eyes sometimes as I watch Saskia. That peculiar feeling when you look at your child and she seems so profoundly, intensely, strangely familiar. An odd thing to say, perhaps, but I'm sure you know what I mean.

(Oh and then there is always this).

I'm such a sucker for baby photos from the 70s and 80s. I'd love to see yours...

ps. Look at my Dad doing his best pensive Lennon look!

*I'm so touched by all the comments generated by the 52 Project, and am looking forward to discovering some new blogs. Just making myself a cup of tea...

Christmas Day

Our Christmas this year was simple and so delightful. The day was overcast and unusually cold which meant we spent most of our time inside, stretched out on the living room rugs and cuddled into sofas, reading the back covers of new books. I hardly took any photos and instead just watched as Saskia played with her small cousins and charmed the adults.

*The view at Christmas lunch out towards the Brindabellas. We spent Christmas day out on my aunt and uncle's property just outside Canberra. I never grow tired of this outlook.
**Saskia was lucky to receive a little table and chair set, and some other small gifts from us including these beautifully designed flash cards (she has a credit card obsession and these are a great substitute!), some special crayons and a few farm animals to begin a collection (most definitely the biggest hit). We also donated money in Saskia's name to this amazing organisation (after reading about it on Kylie's blog). The small amount of money we gave will help a family in rural Fiji purchase chickens so they can sell chicks and improve their nutrition with daily eggs.

I was too late to wish you all a merry Christmas, but I do hope there were moments of true happiness. Thank you for all your kind words over the past year. I get a little kick out of each and every comment you leave x

Last year's Christmas

14 months

14 months and the Little One...

...entertains us with her animal sounds - oink (with a crazy tongue roll) and roar (always whispered) are some of the favourites
...astounds us with her words (hat, apple, shoe, por favor, teddy, agua) and song lines (e-i-e-i-o, row row, roll over)

...has a fire in her (Brazilian) belly, and has thrown some thoroughly dramatic tantrums (just like her mama, I'm told)
...loves to play lady (wear a necklace, carry a bag or poach mama's hat)

...understands more than we realise
...sometimes wakes us up with noisy kisses
...will happily eat weetbix, lentil burgers and pikelets

...went on her first $2 ride (and I guess there's no turning back...)
...makes her mama and dada feel oh so lucky, oh so grateful

*Can you tell I've given up trying to get a shot where she's looking into the camera? These photos taken in JanMa's front yard, where again, there are many little friends to say hello to, hiding about the place. The wombat family near the front steps are clear favourites and they each get a kiss.