LYLA LIGHTFINGERS

I don’t know exactly what it is about this time of year, but it always brings about a need to start a new house project.

Last year it was all about finishing off our ‘courtyard’ front garden, making it child safe and low maintenance.

This year I find myself with two (!) babies and suddenly realise that our house isn’t as child friendly as I thought it was. Don’t get me wrong, we did the main baby proofing with the arrival of our first; - new fire guard, switched all our cleaning/personal products to nontoxic, no chemical products, secured all plugs and cords as best as we could. However, only having a child in the space can truly test just how prepared we are.  

And we are not there yet.

When we bought our furniture for this house, we were buying furniture for a couple. I still love our choices.  However, I've learnt that sometimes furniture choice can double your workload when you add a curious toddler to the mix.

The number of times I’ve had to rescue balls that rolled under the bookshelves - (yes, they have legs just high enough to collect all the things underneath) and re-stack said bookshelves.  We cannot get doors for these soon enough! I never realised how handy those baby cabinet door locks are until just this past month! 

A few dust bunnies too...

I will definitely be sharing some of these projects as I get to them, however I though it might be fun to talk about some of the random objects we have had lying around  - because my big girl can open every drawer, cupboard and box we have…

A can of tuna in my bathroom, don’t we all keep supplies in there?!

Most nights Lyla stashes something in her daddy’s work boots, this week included a tennis ball, two dummies and an emoji smiley face rubber ball.

My favourite would have to be the random (positive) pregnancy test she’s been leaving around. I only realised after visits from our family that she had it out… Everyone is already thinking we will be announcing another baby soon.  Alas - no, this is the positive tests from finding out about our Ruby.   I have all of her baby things in my side table ready to put in a box and big sissy apparently loves playing with them. 

Case in point, note my conditioner in the corner there?

All this to say, I don’t know about you Mumma’s but I’m tired of packing ‘my’ things away which shouldn’t be out. I’m not talking about toys and crafts, these are my things that I haven’t had out yet they are all over the house. 

I do watch her despite what you might be thinking, but gosh, kids can get into things in seconds. Even as she stands next to me drying my hair, I tip my hair upside down for a few seconds, look back up and all the flannels are thrown around the room. 

Her actual toy box in the lounge room

Things are going to change around here, doors are going to get latched!

Xoxo - Sarah

A Life Work

I am convinced that we need to morally correct our children -  constantly and relentlessly - from teeny tiny tots to  when they are 'all grown up' and become Young Adults.  Directing them and returning them to the right path never stops.  We will always be parents of children.  No matter their age, nor ours.

Then we become parents to others and nothing really changes, other than the fact that we have a new "import" (as the Machinist and I fondly call the in-law children).  We learn to love the new addition to the family and they become our own.  We gain more love, and it increases and we desire to guide them, too.

Grandchildren arrive.  They remind us, take us back to how we were, how we felt when we were raising their parents.  Sometimes shuddering when recollecting those early years and all the mistakes we made.  We don't want that for our children and our children's children.

And so it begins again.  The guiding, the directing.  We now have wisdom and experience.  We know that they will never turn back from wrong if we never show them.

We have to show them.

If we aren't intent on showing them the way, why are we parents?

How are we parents?

A Supporting Wife

If ever two were one, then surely we.

If ever man were loved by wife, then thee.

If ever wife was happy in a man,

Compare with me, ye women, if you can.

I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold,

Or all the riches that the East doth hold.

My love is such that rivers cannot quench,

Nor ought but love from thee give recompense.

Thy love is such I can no way repay;

The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.

Then while we live, in love let’s so persevere,

That when we live no more, we may live ever.

~ Anne Bradstreet ~ 

** I've lived a quarter of my life on one continent, a quarter on another and what I expect to be the rest of my life - the other half - on a third continent.  But... home is where the heart is, and in this case - the Machinist is my heart.  Wherever he is, - well - that is home to me.  ** 

We had only been in Australia less than two years when we started our Engineering Company.  It wasn't easy, as we had to get used to a new culture, way of life and an accent we both battled to understand.  I did some temping in and around Canberra and continued with this, while the business got on "it's feet".  Then, within the first two years of running the company with the Machinist, we had two more babies.

No more temping for me!  It was enough to tend three small children and support the Machinist in his lifelong dream of running his own Machine shop.

I became a full time housewife and mother very abruptly.  I swapped high heels for pram wheels, business suits for track suits (colour co-ordinated, of course).

There were several days in each week that we had to travel into the workshop to help in the way of sweeping, carting metal cut-offs and emptying metal shavings, cleaning bathroom and kitchen, setting up systems, banking and errands, deliver jobs to customers.  Not to mention book-keeping at home - usually at night - while the babies slept.

Three years later, we moved to the country, and shortly after that, we moved the whole operation from the city to our home block in the village.

No more travelling 120km a day!

While this has been easier in some ways, it has been more difficult in others.  Business and Private life run a fine line.  Privacy is never the same.  Over the years I have been ever conscious that

customers will be calling around our house to drop off and pick up their jobs. What will they see? Will our children be playing outside in the garden happily? Will they be behaving themselves, or will they be rowdy and in the middle of sibling conflict? Will our home always be neat and tidy and cozy if and when  the Machinist decides to bring a customer indoors for coffee?  Will I always answer the phone in an efficient manner? (will I even hear them properly - ha).  

After all, I want my husband to succeed and continue with his good reputation. Will the customers judge us for what we are doing (or not doing) as a homeschooling family.  We may, on occasion, be responsible for the receiving of goods and materials. How will these drivers see us? What will their impressions of us be?  Will we appear to be professional?  

I don't view myself as a "good" Machinist's wife, as I still don't understand technical / mechanical terms and processes.  I can't talk the talk.  I can't even get it in my head.  I still have to ask what machine he is referring to and have to "wing it" if I ever have to discuss or explain something to somebody about the machine shop.  Oftentimes, the Machinist will excitedly explain a process to me and I watch the expression on his face acknowledge the glazing of my eyes.  

On reflection of all these concerns, I realise that I could have - should have - been more relaxed and focus my time and energy on other things.  I do believe, though, that I had the right heart attitude; to support him.  It wouldn't matter what he did, I'd want him to know that I had his back.  

Oh, and I occasionally wear high shoes, but only when I know I don't have to walk far or stand in them for long periods of time.  Track suits are still colour coordinated, but of a trendier style, due to the advice of my (young adult) daughters.  And the prams I push now are those belonging to my sweet grand babies.  

A Place Like No Other

Many women my age have what they call "empty nest syndrome", whereby they miss - they long for their children who have left home.  It must be one of life's saddest seasons.

I dreaded it.  I lay awake at night thinking about it.  My pillowcase was evident of the tears I shed - especially waking from dreams that had already taken me to that time.

To those mothers who are currently going through this - my heart goes out to you.

My own transition from "Full House" to "Empty Nest" has been a gentle one.  Some still live with the Machinist and I in the family home; - the others are with their own little families - less than 100m "down the road".

I am grateful.  In fact - I am beyond grateful.  I am in awe.

Wherever it is, however it is, whatever it's age or condition our homes are the embodiment of family, faith and friendship and the love that binds one to another.

I desire to continue to build up our home, however full, however empty, so that no matter what the circumstances, wherever our children (and their children) may roam, they will always know....