from little things big things grow

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Oceana the mermaid

Sometimes I make things other than cookies. A freebie web softie tutorial + one pair of linen pants, an indie wrap skirt, a tie-die hankie, some satin scraps and car boot sale embroidery threads. With these I made my Skye a christmas present- a little mermaid doll complete with a mirror.

Skye is a huge fan of the kids tv show Ben and Holly's little Kingdom. When she saw the mermaid episode something clicked. Afterwards there was lots of pretend play in the bath and the swimming pool of being a mermaid who was very sad because she has lost her mirror.

One day she grabbed her red ukulele and sat in the middle of my bed. She strummed and sang a little song, "oceenana feel sa-ad, lost her mirror'. I was lost for words, but I did record it. For sure.

It took me a few nights leading up to Christmas to make the little mermaid. I used the gorgeous and easy to follow tute by #weewonderfuls which allowed me to do a lot of hand stitching. I did double the pattern size though. From my fabric stash I found a happy combination of materials to suit the project. Some were old clothes and some fabric remnants. I didn't need to buy anything for this project! My favourite part was embroidering the face but I also quite liked quilting the hair.

I couldn't wait until Christmas to give it to Skye so I gave it to her a few days early. She looked her over and then made her swim around the air. It was an excellent moment.

On reflection this may have been the moment where christmas became about her happy face. I'm trying to recall a christmas carol that has lyrics about this so I can finish on a poignant note. But I can't.

Thursday, January 15, 2015

So very two

Two is an incredible age. 

There is jumping off couches onto backs of unsuspecting parents (and sometimes grandparents). Demanding of quite specific foods; 'bubby want cold strawberries'. And grand statements such as 'I don't like strawberries anymore!'. 

Days are met with unbridled energy, running legs and banging hands, frighteningly sudden shrieks and literal climbing of walls (waterspouts). Those same days are closed with protests, cajoling, endless books, your favourite blanket and of course milk. And collapsing into our beds completely exhausted.

You pry my eyes open in the morning and tell me 'get out of bed now'. I desperately negotiate this with you and somedays we stay in the big bed until 7.30. Such a decent and magical time.

You have your own bed in your own bedroom. You sit in your windowsill and read, watching yourself in the mirror. Performing shows already.

Nursery rhymes are sung with different words - Rocka my baby, up a tree; baa baa black sheep any wool. One for mamaster (that's you - points to daddy) one for dame (that's you mummy), and one for little boy lives down lane; wheels ona bus go roar roar ROAR...

Such magic it is to watch you. Such torture it is to see you grow and know there is no going back. No baby anymore. And yet such pride to see such growth.

You melt my heart with declarations of 'I love you' and 'you are my best friend'. 

Daycare weeks, swimming lessons, and toilet training are all on the horizon. As I think about packing daycare lunch boxes I feel like we have fast forwarded into a future that seemed so distant for so long. And now I want to hold you tight. If only you would stay still...