The Last Post

You may have noticed that this is a place I don't stop by as much these days.

When havenspace was born, I was in a very different place,

geographically and mentally.

It was time for a change.

Feel free to join me.

♥

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Four Play

As promised, the birthday photos: 

The Birthday Girl

 I seldom post pictures of other children without consent,

but as Johnny Depp seriously did not show up,

I felt justified.

After all, he sent some amazing replacements.

  

Party game time.

Bonus: there was a party host who did the shrieking and negotiating with 13 preschoolers,

while the adults stood around and guffawed politely into plastic cups of Ribena.

  She finally settled on a Castle Cake,

which was fortunately, a doddle to decorate.

I understand I was let off lightly this time.

I have been warned she has more extravagent themes in mind for her 5th.

Gulp.

A forced family shot by the staff,

I particularly like the turret placement of the cake

to maximise the birthday girl's features,

and the freakishly weird boy on the wall

who looks like he is about to attack me.

And yes.

I am brunette again.

 

  

We arrived back home from the sugar pit

and watched the child open her presents.

It boggled me to lay them all out for inspection.

It appears that the colour Pink unlocks the universal secret of joy for 4 year old girls.

I kept wincing in materialistic overload at the toy explosion each time I walked past

and tried not to visualise that picture on Pinterest of a small starving African child, with a vulture hovering in the background waiting to begin its meal.

Imagined I could put the starving orphan on the bench 

and feed the plastic to the vultures.

Not sure M3 would find that as stimulating as I would.

Anyhow 4 is done and she was as pleased as punch.

Here is her Now I Am Four list:

She is tall for her age,

loves helping herself to my makeup, 

particularly the white and lilac Clinique eyeshadow,

and still sleeps with Bubba.

She likes to eat sugar from the sugar bowl,

also a fan of (still) frozen peas,

dry cereal, warm milo and chippies.

She is a gentle soul,

and has a very unique expression when she is excited.

Her eyes literally lighten and she raises her eyebrows

and I am sucked into a vortex of pleasure each time I see her do it.

Sometimes I rachet up her enthusiasm just to see her eyes 'get it'.

She still loves clambering into our bed in the night and first thing every morning.

She hates thunder.

And being lonely.

She is one of my very best friends,

possessing some of the best ideas a girl could imagine.

She gives incredible hugs with dimpled arms,

her hair is thick, glossy and tangle free

and she lies in the crook of my arm every night while we read stories.

She loves Amelia Bedelia, Milly Molly Mandy and My Naughty Little Sister.

I watched her run about on a patch of grass today,

in her loping, head down, arm pumping kind of way

and felt drunk with the kind of love

that only children at their very best can make you taste.

It was very fun

and I can tell you with great authority,

that being four IS good.

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Persia and Parties

I am thrilled to report that my other half camera is back in my hot little hands

after sightseeing around Persia.

 

Greg went to Turkey to attend his cousin's wedding,

- more a brother than a cousin really,

since they are both 'only children'

 who grew up thrashing the living daylights out of each other.

They are like chalk and cheese to look at,

one light, one dark

but both possess a similar natural grace with people

and are two of the most gentle and creative men I know.

Greg did a fabulous job with the camera,

and these images were a joy to explore.

They were a gift to edit for him

and were almost as good as the shopping 

he did for us at the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul.

The vibrant ceramics and embossed silver bowl were a hit,

but the vintage candle lantern catapulted him into my good books.

He also bought M2 a soft, soft woven blanket

which nearly made her pass out with sheer tactile delight.

She has said I can borrow it while she is at school. 

   

I am now recovered from the weekend on my own

and am back to living through my lens and being a busy mum,

and today a family shoot for my friend,

which was so rewarding as her children were a source of light themselves.

I won't give any secrets away as I want Melinda to see the images first,

but here is a wee sneak peek...

  The weekend holds birthday fever ahead,

and M3 is nearly exploding with excitement

as we plan her party.

She has been collecting ideas for cakes and decor for months,

but was a surprised to learn that Johnny Depp will not be making an appearance at her birthday party after all.  She was expecting that he be there, since she is fascinated by the Mad Hatter and it was quite a job to convince her not to have a freakishly weird Alice in Wonderland cake.  I think she thought by compromising on the cake, surely we would organise him to pop in for a little visit.

 

She hung her head as she heard my words.

I held her hand as she digested the news.

She asked again just to be really sure that I had 

understood the seriousness of the situation.  

I explained how much I knew Johnny Depp meant to her, 

but that he was busy on Sunday and 

just would not be able to join her and the 

14 other little people attending her party.

It was a sad, sad moment.

Then she shrugged and said that perhaps her party would still be okay.

I said I hoped so too.

Tomorrow I will take her for a wee date to get her a 'Baby Angel' mani/pedi and buy her a milkshake and then on Sunday we will celebrate in true Singaporean style.

Not a garden party like we are used to,

but a huge indoor playground.

This is what she chose 5 months ago, 

so as much as I have suggested other options,

with less screaming children,

she has remained concrete in her decision.

If I can't give her Johnny Depp,

I can gulp down my repulsion of germ factories

and the noise of a million sugar highs

and give her the party of her dreams.

Have a lovely weekend all.

x

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Wilderness

Another week gone.

I think I snap the calendar into chapters on my camera,

but with my 50D swanning around one of the oldest regions of the world,

I had to turn to my phone to capture life instead.

Without The Guy here it was eerily quiet,

unless you count the trip to A&E with M3

for a fractured arm.  Not as quiet there.

Other than that it was your average solo parenting weekend,

where your own voice in your head is the only other adult company

for hours and hours and hours.

It is like survival of the fittest,

alone in the wilderness.

M2 baked her favourite cake

 which made a fabulous mess.

This needed superior cleaning efforts to restore

to ant-free order.

The floors were dusted in icing sugar and cocoa powder.

Egg white dripped off the side of the counter.

There was enough washing up stacked in the sink to swamp an army

and the dog padded through it all and went all

hairy and sticky through to repose on the couch.

I made M2 clean with me.

Never, ever, ever give a 9 year old a mop and bucket.

It is like making cocoa and icing sugar soup on the floor.

However, to her credit,

she did a good job and enjoyed the results of her labour

(the edible ones at least).

The smallest unit of the team enjoyed helping with the licking of the spatula.

You may notice, despite having a wee fracture,

this child is cast-free?

Well, yes.

That is because she wriggled out of it and has hidden it somewhere,

for the second time in two days.

Since she is showing no signs of favouring the arm

and says she is not sore,

I have shrugged my protective shoulders

and let her potter off into her little world of two arms and no casts.

Honestly,

butter wouldn't melt.

The oldest child did hours of homework

and then headed off for a birthday party

which bought the wilderness headcount down.

And then a certain honey coloured hound

needed a thorough wash after cavorting through the fields of cake.

Her dog shampoo is Cherry Blossom scented

and smells better than any human stuff.

This tends to tickle my fancy.

But not for long,

since she was quick to thank me for washing her by

pruning my garden

Bailey-style.

Weekends without parenting support are like shark infested treacle,

slow moving and very dangerous.

The relentlessness, the children looming larger than life,

always hungry no matter what you throw at them.

It just made me feel like hiding myself away in a dark cupboard.

But we were able to find some cool little moments;

we sniffed our way through Charlie St Cloud,

went for a lovely walk,

with me disguised as a skateboard and scooter porter,

and haggled repeatedly over whose turn it was to empty the dishwasher,

pick up the swimming towels

and tidy the toys.

Today Monday,

you may certainly come in and whisk away the 

bootcamp of my weekend.

Routine wins hands down.

I think I need a busy week in order to recover!

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Silence and the Missing

 I chest-squeezingly love them, these four.

At 7.30 in the morning, a bus arrives and takes three pieces of my heart away until 4 in the afternoon.  Then the remaining one leaves in a taxi for a desk I have never seen, in a office on the other side of town.
Except on Mondays and Tuesdays,
when M3 is home with me,
in my pocket practically.
We are never far apart on those days.

There is a weighty hush on the days they are all gone.

Their absence is a silence so profound that I can hardly think.

And yet without which,

I cannot breathe.

It is another light and shadow mix, 
where you cannot have one without the other.

In addition, The Guy leaves tonight to fly to Turkey for a family wedding.  
How I wish we were going together, but I am so delighted that he is able to be present at this celebration.  He is taking my 50D and is under strict instructions to come back with some heart stopping images.  
No pressure Babe,
but weddings are kinda my thing,
and in a gorgeous old city?
No pressure...


We will miss you.


Travel safe.


x

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