Littlest: seven months

Dear-heart,

This is once again late but you are now seven months. You are strong, determined and a complete cuddle-up-agus. You are now very steady in your sitting and beginning to pivot and wriggle around in tummy time, covering far too vast a space with great determination. On occasions, your little backside goes up and I fear crawling approaches. I am in no way prepared for this.

You pull yourself to standing with the bars of your cot and the little play pen your Nana and Grandpa have for you. You are immensely proud of yourself when you do this and look around for acclaim, which tends to come.

Now you are preparing to crawl you are getting your first inklings of 'stranger-danger' or really 'you're-not-my-mummy-itis'. People you would have gone to quite happily last week you now tremble your lip at and reach for me. While I understand in evolutionary terms this is a necessary thing (once a baby starts moving of their own volition I quite see it's important they still stay close to their mama) it is still a little hard and badly timed re. our travels. I am hopeful that it will only really happen when you're tired of an evening.

You have one sharp little tooth and I suspect another is on it's way. You still stick your tongue out with great frequency and continue thinking it is the cleverest thing and of course it remains very adorable but I do worry about it now that you have a tooth.

You are talking with great volume, at great length, with great enthusiasm but no discernible sense. "A-goo!" is common. As is "DehDehDeh!"

You remain enraptured with your brother and sister and give them great belly-deep giggles - the kind the rest of us work at with raspberries and tickles, toe-rhymes and funny faces - they get for just existing and appearing.

Your sister loves you and plays with a heap, if perhaps not particularly gently. You are hauled hither and thither with little concern for your dainty-baby state. She loves to get into your cot or playpen with you and give you big kisses. Your brother views you with tolerant affection.

You still believe day-naps are for wimps and will only catch five minutes on odd, occasional days, generally in the car or while you are milk-drunk after a feed, waking as soon as I try to put you in your cot. On the other hand, you sleep well at night as long as I am no more than five centimetres away.

We are in the midst of moving at the moment. We've left our Gippsland home - your first home (I was a bit teary when we drove away, and then again when we came back five minutes later to gather up forgotten chargers.) You kids and I won't be going back but your Daddy will return to pack up and fix up before we sell it. Let's not talk about the packing. Let's really not.

When I was just a little older than the Sprocket we left the first house I remember living in, in inner-city Melbourne. A friend gave me a necklace of blue plastic and when it broke the same day I carefully placed beads from it in the dust of all the corners for 'future generations' to unearth and wonder upon. Oddly, we moved to the outer suburbs via Scotland as well - my brothers and mama and I spending nine months in Aberdeen while your Grand-daddy researched for his Ph.d over in Dublin. We visited him over the Summer holidays and I have so many memories from that time. I do wonder how much your brother and sister will remember of our trip.

Today we prepare to fly up to Queensland - our move official. Your Daddy is already there, having driven up over the weekend to prepare the way. It was such an amazing relief to hear his (very tired) voice when he arrived - I spent the entire time imagining horrific crashes (being of a cheerful disposition of late).

But he has arrived and we are about to arrive. Your nana and grandpa's living room is presently full of suitcases and you are crowing merrily in the curve of my arm ('A-da!') as I type one handed and you reach for the keys. Your brother is building lego on the floor, your nana is playing christmas carols and your sister is practicing pulling her suitcase, which is nearly twice her size.

Littlest, we head up North today, your Daddy's degree finally finished, his internship set to start in just over a month. Balmy seas and frangipani are on the agenda.

Hello my little tropical-toddler-to be!

I started early...

I started early - Took my Dog-
and visited the sea.

The Mermaids in the Basement
Came out to look at me.

Emily Dickinson


While Beloved and my children slept I eased out of bed, quickly dressed and headed down the pathway to the sea. I left alone but the ghosts of all my old dogs followed me, and I almost looked for a tennis ball.

The sun had just risen and the beach belonged solely to me. Barefoot, I made my way around the point, away from the protected waters, over the rocks to the open expanse of sea of the back beach.

Slowly, lazily, I meandered, enjoying sand underfoot, gentle sun gilding, scents of eucalypt carried from the forests at the back of Lorne, before returning to my sleeping household, just in time to go into the bedroom to fetch my baby as she woke.

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 Sprocket - playing with an old oar in the driveway down at the beach in the early morning.

Poppet - still sleepy and hair all mussed, eating her porridge. (Made with instant milk as we haven't got to the shops yet after our epic drive across the state the night before.)

 Littlest - no matter how early her smile lights up the world. (If you have a magnifying glass you might just see her new tooth)

Joining with Jodi for a portrait of my little ones every most some weeks in 2014.

We have begun our move to Queensland. We've said our bitter-sweet farewell to the fibro shack that has been our home for the last four years and that Littlest came home too. (Beloved still has to go back for one last tidy, and then some unknown time next year to load our boxes and stuff up and bring them up, but the kids and I have said our farewells.) We're stopping at the family beach house to rest and recharge a little before making the trip up North. New beginnings here we come! 

Safe-Keeping the Christmas Pudding

Now that we're officially in Advent I feel I can become a little Christmas-y.

The scent of dried fruits and sugar, butter and spices bubbling away on the stove is one of my favourites, and I love the way it all froths up when you add the bi-carb. Voila! Magic!

But I'm not entirely sure if we'll be cooking our usual Christmas pudding this year - as you know, we'll be doing the whole mad four-countries-in-twenty-one-days-with-three-kids-thing. I'm hoping we do, but I've a strong suspicion we'll be too busy oohing soft falling snow, clambering up castles and catching up with folk.

Just in case we do decide to put away an afternoon to head down to the shops (Ooh. Shopping. In Edinburgh. Fun-ness) and load up on spices and fruits, then lock ourselves away for an evening to watch the magic of sugar and butter and foaming bicarb and lots and lots of spices… I'm putting my favourite recipe here for easy reference. (And also so I don't lose it in all the packing!) It's in a tiny little booklet that came with the pudding tin and I'm amazed I haven't lost it already. It is the only recipe I've found that has the perfect fruit ratio and has pineapple. And I'm a sucker for pineapple.

Rich Plum Pudding

2 1/2 cups mixed dried fruit
1/2 cup sultanas or raisins
1/4 cup red glace cherries - halved. (I double this)
2 slices glace pineapple, chopped
1 cup soft dark sugar
125 g butter - chopped
1 cup cold water
1 teaspoon bicarb soda
zest of half an orange
2 free range eggs lightly beaten
1 cup plain flour (it says sifted, but a-hum)
1 cup self raising flour
1 1/2 - 2 teaspoons mixed spice (I double this and add an extra teaspoon cinnamon)
1/4 cup brandy (optional. sort of.)

Butter the pudding steamer. (I tentatively raised the possibility of packing the steamer, but Beloved looked at me as if I was nuts…Is it possible to make it without the tin? Hmm. Let's see what the rental house has. Other than that we'll hit the op-shops and hope for the best. I am reliably informed you can get a map of the Edinburgh op-shops.)
Put all the dried fruits, cherries, pineapple, sugar, butter and water in a large saucepan and mix lightly. Simmer on medium heat until the butter has melted then simmer for another 5 minutes. Remove from heat and stir in the bi-carb. Cool. (Yes, it is cool, as in amazing, but they mean let it cool down.)

Stir in the orange zest, spices, eggs and brandy.

Spoon into the pudding steamer and smooth the surface, fit the lid.

Place into a large saucepans and pour boiling water halfway up the sides of the steamer. Cover the saucepan and put on medium heat and boil for 4 - 4 1/2 hours, topping up water if necessary.

To serve carefully remove pudding bowl from heat, stand for 10 minutes then romeve the lid and turn out.

Serve with a heap of custard. (Or cream or ice-cream But really, you have to have custard. Beloved has just perfected his recipe.) Feeling hungry here… 

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Sprocket - a responsible big brother - otherwise a grubby faced and very inventive storm of destruction. Heavily bribed to stay still so I can take photos for the Christmas card.

Littlest - she learnt to pull herself up on the bars of her cot this week and stand on pudgy legs. (The same week we thankfully upgraded her from her bassinet.)

Poppet - my darling diva and wonderful helper. Her grin is so infectious.

Joining with Jodi to take a photo of my kids every most some occasional weeks when the planets align and the moon is full in 2014.

We move house (and state) in two days and the house is full of boxes and jammed with piles of clothes, toys and books for storage, to take to the UK, the op-shop or Queensland. Chaos is my dear friend but I wish he'd visit some other family for  a few days!