Growing Up

The family, minus my boy

Ok, so it is term 4. In fact the school year is almost over and I am sitting here with half and hour before the school run begins and I am doing my nails. Not a full manicure but a basic cut and file. This is basic maintenance. But I realised that it wasn’t so long ago that I struggled to do anything extra in those hours before getting the kids to school.

It was hard to take a shower and dress. It was a good day if I managed the mascara and some lipstick. I rarely got a chance to read the word, the media or my social media feeds to see what was happening in the world. I was not able to contemplate listening to ABC radio or playing some new tunes.

My mornings have generally been hard work. Each activity finely tuned and organised. Making breakfast, packing lunches, organising school bags, finding uniform, school hats, signing the diary, permission forms and the like. But suddenly the pressure has eased up. It could be argued that the kids are just getting better at being organised. Maybe that is true. But what is more startling is the realisation is that they are older and becoming more independent.

I recall wondering if there would ever come a time when I would be free of doing up seat belts, wiping bottoms and getting sipper cups of milk. Well the time has come. We are all a bit older, more experienced and growing in independence. It does not mean that we don’t have mornings that go absolutely pear shaped. We do. But it is on the whole a lot easier than it used to be. I hadn’t noticed until my man pointed out the obvious change in our household. Our kids are growing up.


It is very rare that I get to hang out with this woman. My little sister. There has always been some geographical distance between us. And there is some ten years separating us in age and whole worlds of different life experiences. I left home before she had made it to the middle of primary school, so I wasn’t around to ‘see her grow up’. And by the time she came to the big city to University I was knee deep in nappies and small people. She was the Aunty with punk, bright pink hair and nose piercings.

People say we look alike. That we can sound the same. We are born of the same mother and father, informed by the same values, beliefs and then been left to figure it all out as adult women. In spite of our different life circumstances we know what resonates with us. Love, faith, race, gender, community. We do life now from different vantage points, ever mindful of being family. Working out what it means to be sisters.

Love you Sis. Sxx

Big Shoes

┬áIf you are like me you imagine your little people will always, well be little. But recently I had to admit that 2 and almost 3 of my children are bigger than me – certainly in footwear! I had visions of passing on my shoe collection to my girls. All of those heels and vintage boots. Well clearly someone has something else in mind, because at this rate each girl will have giant feet, leaving my average petite feet and their special collection of shoes alone.

Do you ever find yourself surprised by a little everyday fact, that has gone unnoticed for too long? Some days the big picture takes away from the small things that offer us hope, comfort and joy. Like my kids are growing up. Becoming independent. There will be big shoes in my house…..for a very long time!