These precious days

This little girl. She is a champion. We have put her through so much change lately, and she has tackled it all with grace and cuddles and laughter and trust. Every morning, she and I sit side by side on the little step outside her room that leads into the bathroom, and brush our teeth in tandem.

When we go for walks, she cannot pass a particular daisy bush a block or so from our house without picking a flower, which she then gives to me.

Little hands reach up for me and big, blue eyes beseech. When I lift her into my arms, she lovingly pats and strokes my shoulder, just as if I am the one needing comfort and reassurance, and she is the old soul. Which is frequently true.

She can push her baby doll in her toy pram for six blocks, even with hills. She likes to paint with a brush in each hand. She drinks unsweetened herbal tea. Balloons and bubbles are pronounced the same way: “Baloobaloobaloo!” Not to be confused with flower, which is pronounced “Faloolooloo!”

When you ask her what sound a dog makes, she sticks her tongue out and pants. Cats make a sound kind of like a siren (which, if you’d met our cat, you’d know is annoyingly accurate). Ducks say “quack” with gusto but, then, apparently all birds say “quack.”

After breakfast this morning Madeleine figured out how to climb onto the old chair where the dog likes to sleep, and rested her head on his belly with glee. The poor puppy will never know peace again.

When her dad and I kiss, she grins and pushes our faces into each other to make us kiss again. (At other times she tries to make me kiss other people, which can be socially awkward, like that time she tried to make me pash the owner of a local café. I’m not kidding. He was disconcerted to say the least.)

Madeleine is learning to sleep in her own cot instead of our bed, and she is doing incredibly well. She is getting so much more sleep and is so much happier during the day, it warms my heart to know I’ve been brave enough and tough enough to give her this gift. Because it is HARD, and I really miss her snuggles at night.

When she wakes up in the morning we tell her we are so proud that she slept in her cot, and she gets to pick one (colourful, puffy, glitter) sticker and put it on the “Hooray for Madeleine” poster that I made for her door. She loves this, carefully choosing a sticker each day and placing it on the poster all by herself.

First thing in the morning and last thing in the evening she likes to sit on my lap in an arm chair and just relax. She reaches her arm up behind her and gently strokes my hair. Then she turns around and wraps both arms tightly around my neck, planting big sloppy kisses on my face with an open mouth.

I love her so intensely. I am really looking forward to seeing her become a big sister, and to knowing this love all over again with little Baby B2. But these precious days of just me and Madeleine. Oh, I am the luckiest mama in the world.

The Melbourne food scene

This made me laugh today. It's all too true for those who live and/or want to eat in Melbourne, but also reminded me of life in New York. And Sydney. And probably any other big city that loves its food. How about you? Anything familiar here?

Video via the Honey Bar blog. Thanks Pip for pointing me in this direction and putting a smile on my (hungry for Thai fusion food now) dial.

Are you still there?

Oh hello Internet, how have you been? I've missed you! I am obscenely pregnant. My belly is like a beach ball out in front of me, an alien beach ball that warps and wiggles and thumps and seems to manage to be everywhere at once, on the inside. Only five short weeks and Baby B2 will be out in the world with us. That is insane! I will love this baby with all my heart but I am SO not ready to manage the extra responsibility. In the past few weeks since we were last in touch I tried out (temporary) single parenthood. I don't recommend it. My hat is well and truly off to those who do it all the time. You guys are my HEROES.

While working, and battling a horrible virus (I coughed so hard I cracked a rib), and caring for my child 24-7 (and I really mean the 24 bit, Madeleine took to sleeping not only in my bed but on my pillow and ON MY HEAD), I also trialled life without a couch to sit on, without books, and without a television. At meal times we watched a lot of Peppa Pig on iView in order to keep Madeleine still (because we were also living life without tables to sit at). By night I watched a lot of previously-downloaded-on-iTunes Dr Who while packing boxes (because I happened across an old episode while flicking randomly through channels a couple of weeks earlier, and just had to find out what the deal was with that woman called River, and Amy "the girl who waited." Most intriguing).

And then while still single-parenting, Madeleine and I moved house. That was fun.

Actually it wasn't too bad, due mostly to my gorgeous friend Tonia, who took the day off work and filled her car with drop-offs for charity shops, ferried the dog to and from his hair salon (new houses require clean dogs), fetched lunches and dinners and emergency groceries, unpacked and tidied up a storm, made the beds, AND made Madeleine (and me) laugh. What a trooper! What a friend!

Oh but then we entered life without Internet as well as TV, the couch arrived but it was wrapped in plastic and needed the feet put on and I was too pregnant to be able to lift it (and therefore we couldn't sit on it), the books were still in boxes, and the cat wouldn't come out of the back shed. AND no hot water for almost a week. AND no curtains on the bedroom windows (helloooo neighbours, helloooo lack of sleep).

Still, Madeleine didn't care. She and I were well and truly used to sitting on the floor by then, and we could make our own fun. We'd boil the kettle and bathe her in my fabulous new ceramic farmhouse kitchen sink. I had a lot of wash-downs. Plus, Madeleine had a whole new house to run up and down in like a crazy person, and stairs to be constantly told not to climb (no safety gates yet).

So we chipped away at the unpacking and the setting up and on Saturday afternoon (a whole 24 hours early) Mr B came home. And darn it if I wasn't just a bit more than a LOT glad to see his jet-lagged face. (If you want to know what he was doing overseas, read this blog).

Earlier this week the hot water came on. Yesterday we finally got the Internet working. I have a tiny office of my very own, in a converted wine cellar. Madeleine has a play room. We have a grown-up living room AND a dining room (with a dining table at which we actually sit to eat. If you'd seen our previous several homes you'd know what a posh luxury this is for us.) There's still a lot to do (curtains on the bedroom windows pleeeease), but room by room our new house is starting to feel like a home. I can't wait to share some befores and afters with you of this renovation experience.

(Photo is of the three of us about a week before Mr B went away. Madeleine wore that strawberry costume all day, a gift from this Deb, stroking the shiny sleeves like you stroke a sleeping kitten).

A simple Saturday

This day happened a few weekends ago but I am so far behind on this blog it's amazing we're still in the same season at all. This day was a warm spring Saturday and it started out as I'm sure many Saturdays do for families all over the world, with a trip to Ikea. But when we arrived at Victoria Gardens we discovered Ikea didn't open for another hour, so we stopped for mall coffee (mall coffee! Why can they never get it right?!?) then took a wander through all the other homewares shops, looking for inspiration for our new house. Somewhere during the course of that hour, Madeleine managed to take BOTH of her shoes off and toss them away so, while Mr B went and got a haircut, I spent another 20 minutes retracing our steps and asking in all the stores if anyone had found one or two teeny, tiny neon-orange plastic sandals.

We made it to Ikea five minutes before opening time and, seriously, it was like the start of a race up there! Hoards of families and pregnant couples milled around the entrance with barely-concealed anticipation, before SIRENS sounded (I kid you not!) to signal the imminent opening of the store. Next minute we were off and running and following those bossy floor-arrows as though our lives depended on it. Time gets all warpy in Ikea so I don't know how long we were in there but, when we finally emerged, it was time to get on with the 'real' day.

Madeleine was as grizzly as only she can get when more than an hour overdue for a nap. So While Mr B took the car back home and organised our purchases, I pushed the pram all the way from Little Audrey to Carlton Gardens, where we were meeting up with our friend Tonia to check out the Finders Keepers Markets in the Royal Exhibition Buildings. Madeleine was asleep before I'd made it half a block. During that walk the day transitioned from freezing to positively balmy, and by the time we'd all met up at the markets we were starving and ready for a late al fresco lunch.

A quick walk through the park and a spot of illicit flower-picking (by Madeleine), across the road to Lygon Street, and we hit up our favourite dumpling central. I've always enjoyed dumplings, but both my pregnancies have sent me into dumpling overload. I dream about those babies! Afterward Mr B ordered Madeleine a baby iced chocolate to go (I knowwwww), and it was HUGE, but that didn't stop her going absolutely to town on it. By the time we got home she was soaking wet and coated in chocolate milk from head to toe.

Mr B and I disagreed on her need to change but I won that round so, a quick wardrobe adjustment later, we joined up with more friends and all headed up to the Travelling Samovar for iced tea and a second spot of illicit flower-picking (again by Madeleine) in their pretty little courtyard. (The courtyard is also pictured at the top of this post from a separate visit, because I couldn't resist showing my little gardening angel and Oliver the dog, so happy about his invitation to the tea party). Nobody was hungry for dinner that night.

And there you have it. A simple Saturday.

Heads you win

Once upon a time my grandfather, fresh off the boat from England, was walking along a street in Sydney when an old coin caught his eye. He bent and picked it up: the coin was chipped and dented and completely covered in black grime, but with his fingers he could trace the a profile on one side and it made him wonder... My grandfather took the coin to a numismatist (I had to look that word up, isn't it fantastic?) who confirmed that yes, indeed, it was very old. Roman, in fact.

For an instant, my grandfather saw his future mapped out in fabulous riches. But then the numismatist continued on to explain that in fact these coins were actually extremely common. My grandfather's great find was worth, in today's terms, about $20. On a good day.

So that was that. Later he gave the coin to my father, and my father gave it to me. As a child I LOVED that coin. I couldn't have cared less about its worth. I loved holding it in my hand and imagining where this coin had been and what it had witnessed, what it had purchased, and the more than a thousand years worth of hands that had held it (thank goodness I wasn't a hygiene-obsessed child!).

I still love that coin, for the same reasons. Which Caesar is on it? I don't know because it is still covered in black grime. One day I will have it cleaned professionally, and then I'll find a way to wear my $20 Roman coin as a necklace.

In the meantime, I have fallen rather hard for the wonderful, made-up stories on coins in this art/photography project by German-based designer Andre Levy. Andre sees coins as "massively-reproduced little sculptures." I'd never thought of them that way, but he's absolutely right, just as stamps are mass-produced little works of art!

Andre transforms the faces on the back of coins into vibrant and often funny pop-culture icons. And then he poses the question on his Facebook page: "Are we able to like one cent more than others, just by injecting new stories into it?"

Umm, YES.

(All photographs used here with Andre's kind permission)

1000 steps

Have I told you? Mr B is going to China in a week's time. He and Madeleine's biggest sister Meg will join a team of others walking the Great Wall of China to raise funds for cancer services. Pretty amazing huh? I'm so proud, Mr B and Meg have already raised almost $12,000 to support this cause! When they're done walking, Emily will join them for a little holiday in Beijing. Madeleine and Baby B2 and I will keep the home fires burning, unfortunately not yet in our new house (although we may move just before they get home. Eek!).

So a little while ago Mr B and some of his charity-walk teammates met up for a bit of a training session on the 1000 Steps Kokoda Track Memorial Walk, in the Dandenong Ranges.

For my non-Aussie friends, the Kokoda Track (actually in Papua New Guinea) is the very famous site of a WWII battle in 1942. It is considered one of the most significant battles fought by Australians during that war and, tragically, more than 600 died in that jungle, and another 1000 and more were wounded. The walk in the Dandenong Ranges commemorates the courage, endurance, mateship and sacrifice that characterised that battle.

Once again, Madeleine and I kept the home fires burning while the others walked, since being pregnant with a back injury doesn't lend itself to carrying a 10 kilo child up several kilometres of stairs, especially at "training speed."

These are some photos we took while exploring around the entrance to the walk. Apparently it's very beautiful once you're inside!

Sisters

Just popping in to say hi, and share this beautiful photograph of Madeleine with her big sister Emily. Em got home from Italy two days ago and Madeleine was ALL OVER HER when she arrived in Melbourne today, insisting on holding her hand the entire afternoon. It was just the loveliest thing. Loads of stories and photos to share with you from the past couple of weeks, I'll get to them eventually! Hope you're having a beautiful week.

Melbourne dispatch - N2 Extreme Gelato

This dispatch is brought to you by Madeleine Bulger, aged 15 months. Because while we both believe food should be fun (and N2 Extreme Gelato is nothing if not fun), when it comes to ice cream, Madeleine is serious. And she is IN CHARGE. We actually wanted to do this post for a couple of weeks, ever since we were first lured in by the food theatre that makes this place so fun, and got a taste of the strange concoctions and impossibly-creamy goodness of N2's new Melbourne iteration. I made plans to return with my camera, pronto, but one or two (hundred thousand) Melbournians got in the way.

We took Mr B down Brunswick Street for a taste of N2 gelati on the weekend, only to find the little shop so thick with would-be gelati-eaters you couldn't see the counter, and punters were piled up three-deep all the way out onto the street. A few days later Madeleine and I wandered past in the afternoon to much the same scenario.

So on Thursday when we woke to pouring rain and fierce winds rattling against the windows, Madeleine and I were of one mind: "Perfect weather for gelati!"

We timed our visit to arrive bang-on opening time which was lucky because, Melbourne weather being typically contrary, the sun came out while we were walking and enticed folks out of their homes and into our little world of gelato. We made it before the crowds and even before they were ready to serve, so I joined a small group waiting on the astro turf while the N2 folks set up, and Madeleine raced up and down a graffiti-lined corridor squealing with delight, keeping all of us entertained.

And now for the theatrical part: liquid nitrogen. Every tub of gelato is as fresh as they come, made to order while you watch as clouds of gas pour over big mixing bowls and across the workbenches.

We ordered the crème brûlée flavour from the ever-changing menu because, duh!, so I had the added fun of watching them blowtorch a crispy toffee topping over my ice cream.

Which was all leading up to this:

Oh. Em. Gee. Am I right?

The peppermint tea (served in a beaker, naturally) is there because Madeleine and I do rather appreciate a palate cleanser.

We sat on more astro turf in the cafe area out the back to eat, overlooking a windy laneway full of muddy puddles that were apparently (and annoyingly) calling Madeleine's name. After she had finished our gelato, of course, which she all-but inhaled.

So there you have it. Weird science. Food theatre. Tasty, creamy gelato in strange and wonderful flavours. Graffiti. Astro turf. Adorable babies. That, friends, is the N2 Extreme Gelato Melbourne experience. See you there (but make sure you arrive early).

Mangosteens

The mangosteens are amazing right now in these here parts. Actually I don't know that they'd grow too well this far south so maybe the ones I've been eating have come from Queensland, which isn't all that sustainable from a food miles perspective, but... I repeat, they are amazing right now! I'm currently supporting a three-a-day habit. What's making your morning tea happy?

Monday mornings

A new morning. A new week. I know most of us dread Monday mornings but sometimes, when you've had one of those weekends, it feels quite good to start out fresh. There's something to be said for new beginnings, even if they do come with the beginning of the working week.

To help ease you into this particular Monday morning, I give you a glorious celebration of the resilience of New York and New Yorkers by the New York City Ballet, filmed at sunrise on the 57th floor of the new 4 World Trade Center (4WTC) building.