The Mezzanine

We are nearing the end of "Birthday Weekend".

For those of you who take careful notes, you might have noticed that my children have birthdays one day apart. Which means that this time of year is a special kind of crazy.

This year...

Saturday:
- Go to the park behind my parents' house, with Kidlet Secunda's birthday cake. Celebrate both birthdays with my side of the family.
- Drive down to the peninsula (1 hour away) to go on a high ropes course, with one of Kidlet Primus's school friends. Have leftover birthday cake.

Sunday:
- The husband and kidlets go to church (first time since Lockdown 6). I do not. I stay home and stress.
- Host a party for Kidlet Secunda and five friends. Decorate cupcakes, in lieu of birthday cake.

Monday:
- Kidlet Secunda's birthday! Easy-peasy. Just presents, and a normal day.

Tuesday:
- Kidlet Primus's birthday. More presents.
- Host dinner for eleven people (husband's side of the family), with Kidlet Primus's birthday cake.

AND THEN...

Wednesday:
- The husband disappears in the early hours of the morning, to fly to Detroit. No idea when he's returning; hopefully before Christmas? (I have had three days notice of this event.)
- We... hopefully cope quite well. But we will be eating a lot more takeaway than usual.

My six-year-old son is doing what one does when one first creates a fictional character.

She's a superhero.
And a wildlife ranger, who loves animals.
And talks to animals.
And has special wrist communicator gauntlets that help her talk to animals.
And infernal blast powers for attacking baddies.
And radiant shield powers.
And also the radiant shield powers can be used to heal her.
And she's a gymnast.
An OLYMPIC gymnast.
And she's won all the medals of gymnastics.

Pretty soon I reckon she's going to have purple eyes and glossy hair.

After having had 45 elected on the day of my daughter's birth, it was nicely fitting that her fourth birthday was the day they finally called this year's election.

Kidlet Primus is now 6! Kidlet Secunda is now 4! And our house is once again overflowing with birthday cake and wrapping paper.

It's weird not having toddlers any more. A few years ago, the presents of choice were crayons and stickers. This year, it's nerf guns and lego.



In mostly unrelated news, we're now (finally) out of lockdown. Although visitors still have to be spread out, and the masks are still compulsory - which I'm actually fine with.

The kids are back at school/kinder, and starting to get their regular lives back. Although I doubt we'll go back to swimming lessons for quite a while - which is a shame, because Secunda was only just starting them, and misses them a lot. Primus, on the other hand, doesn't care at all about swimming, but has been requesting gymnastics lessons (ever since he saw a parkour video) - so we might give those a go.

Still waiting to see if church starts up again. I hope so - although it will be very odd having stuff scheduled on Sunday mornings again.

When I was 16, I was totally going to get married at 22, have four kids, and homeschool them. Then my plans changed.

The getting married at 22 changed by me being utterly single for a decade.

The four kids dropped down to three kids (once I got some common sense), and then to two (once I got pregnant the first time and discovered how terrible it was).

The homeschooling was an idea I'd already discarded - but then I was confirmed in my decision by how much I lose my temper when trying to teach my son things. Absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent no way I was going to homeschool.

...and then my plans changed. Again.

It should be noted, for our studio audience, that I am in a fairly ideal position to homeschool:
- I have the time.
- I have the support system.
- I have actually done some classroom teaching before.
- I came damn close to doing a Masters in Education.
- I know the topics backwards. (Not hard. He's in Prep - so right now he's learning about opposites, vowels, and writing the alphabet.)

It's going really well! Somehow, I'm keeping my temper, and not getting horribly frustrated every time he doesn't try, and he, for the most part, is actually trying! Huzzah!

In the last few weeks, we have read things, written things, learnt maths, art, music, and PE, and had Cooking Lessons From Mum as an extra! (The boy can now make cake, and pancakes.)

That being said, I will be SO VERY GLAD when he's back at school again.

My four year old son has started taking communion.

Most of you won’t get exactly why I’m mentioning this. But some of you might understand a bit more if I put it like this: my son, who has not yet been baptised, has started taking communion.

This is unusual.

Orthodox and Catholic churches baptise teeny babies – so when churchgoers take communion, one can pretty much assume they’ve been baptised. The Baptist church, where I was raised, doesn’t baptise people until they’re older – but it also operates on the assumption that you naturally won’t start taking communion until after you’ve been baptised.

I’m at an Anglican church. The middle road. The denomination where we try not to commit to believing something, just in case we leave people out. When someone asks “Does your church believe Theology A or Theology B?” the Anglican church will usually respond with “Yeah… one of those,” and leave all further details to the imagination.

As a rule, Anglican babies are baptised when they’re teeny. But not all of them. The church is quite willing to accommodate those of us who prefer our baptisms more “credo” and less “paedo” – so our two kidlets have both had an infant dedication, and won’t be baptised until they wish to be.

But… my church, being an Anglican church, also handles communion as vaguely as it handles just about every other theological point it’s asked for an opinion on. The Orthodox give communion to infants; the Catholics have an official First Communion at seven years old. The Anglicans opted for the middle ground of “Um… when you’re ready.”

And so my son, having decided he’s ready, is lining up for communion right next to me.

I’m somewhat uncertain about this. A lot of my brain keeps on glancing at me suspiciously and muttering “…but he hasn’t been baptised, Mez…” and I don’t really have an answer for it. I can’t entirely counter the no-communion-before-baptism argument, largely because I’m not sure where that particular theology is from. It’s tradition – but I don’t quite know why, theologically speaking.

On the other hand, there is a piece of theology I’m quite certain of: that Christ said “Let the little children come unto me and forbid them not”, and that if my son asked to encounter Jesus and I said he wasn’t ready, Jesus would kick my arse. (Or at least be extremely cross and pointedly sarcastic in my direction.)

So, I am putting the thing I’m uncertain about (whether un-baptised people are technically allowed to have communion) in second place to the thing I’m very clear about (Jesus wanting kids to be allowed to come to him, dammit). And if my boy wants to take communion, I’m cheering him on.

"Help me with this, Mummy!"

"Okay. I'll get in my time machine, go back two years, spend weeks teaching you, painstakingly, how to do the task, and make absolutely sure you can do it yourself. ... Okay, done. Now do it yourself."

So, we've decided to go low-key with the kidlets' birthdays this year. No big party.

Instead:
- We will have a special dessert on Kidlet Secunda's birthday on Thursday.
- We will have a special dessert on Kidlet Primus's birthday on Friday.
- We will make and decorate gingerbread stars for Kidlet Primus to take to kinder and hand out to his class.
- We will go to the zoo on Saturday, taking one friend each.
- We will take fairy cakes to the zoo, to have a picnic party.
- We will have family over on Sunday, for pizza and birthday cake. I will make and decorate a cake from the Women's Weekly Birthday Cake Book, to have at the party.


I am beginning to suspect that I don't quite get how "low-key" works.

“Please don’t use clippers on him.”
“Have you tried clippers before?”
“Yes, we have. He hates them. Don’t use clippers on him.”
...
“So, he’ll be okay with the little clippers for the back, right?”
“No. No clippers.”
...
“I’ll just use the clippers around his ears.”
“NO. No clippers.”
“It’s not that much. I’m sure he’ll be fine with it.”
“NO.”

Every. Single. Time.


Hairdressers of the world, I realise it sounds like I’m making your job harder, but do you WANT the boy to spend the rest of the haircut screaming with his hands over his ears and frantically trying to escape the chair?

Have kept my unbroken streak of seeing Star Wars movies for the first time in the cinema. In this case, that means Kidlet Secunda has also been to her very first Star Wars movie. She slept through most of it, but watched a couple of scenes in fascination while I changed her nappy.

On that subject... HELL YES was that a Star Wars movie! WOO!



Life has been an endless series of Christmas events (including five different present opening occassions for Kidlet Primus). BUSY. We're now about to go away for a week with my family. Not sure if this will be relaxing, or extra busy. We shall see.



I have downgraded my phone (to a paper diary, an iPod, and a old-style mobile that actually makes phone calls as its primary function), and upgraded my car (to a hatchback with parking assistance, bluetooth, cruise control, and, oh yes, the ability to fit two children - kind of important, that). Very happy with both decisions.



Having so much fun dressing Kidlet Secunda up in pretty outfits. Girls clothes are fun! Plus, dresses are so much easier for nappy changing. I can see why boys used to wear them pre-toilet training.



The entire world has given me chocolate for Christmas. It's yummy, but not terribly good for me... Oh well... *munches*

Am currently sitting in my son's room (he won't lie down if I can't see him, today), as he lies in bed, loudly counting his toes and talking about stars and wiggly lines.

On the one hand: GO TO SLEEP, YOU MORONIC CHILD.

On the other hand: he's so CUTE!