How to create a winter woodland picnic party

When I carried Madeleine into her playroom at 6.30 on the morning of her second birthday party she breathed "The park!" in wide-eyed wonder. I put her little sock-feet down on the grass where she was used to feeling floor-boards and she slowly spun around, taking in my dodgily-drawn toadstools, wonky painted fir trees and floppy crepe-paper grass. "Wowwww. The park!" she whispered. And just like that I felt like Picasso.

Winter in Melbourne means Madeleine will probably always have her birthday parties indoors. But she loves - she really loves - the park. So we created the a picnic-in-the-park party for her in our home. It wasn't that difficult, or that expensive, and I imagine you could make this bringing-the-outside-in scheme work for all kinds of woodsy party themes, like a teddy-bears' picnic, a fairy kingdom, or a woodland creatures party.

1. On a budget

Most of our decorations were home-made for just the cost of cardboard, paint and some masking tape; or found around the house:

* A back-drop of fir-trees painted onto butchers' paper

* A green trim of crepe-paper grass around the skirting boards

* Red and white toadstools painted onto cardboard and stuck around the room

* Cardboard cut-outs of bees, butterflies and ladybirds, also stuck around the room

* Blue and white cardboard clouds, strung from door frames and other high places

* Red and white polka dot paper cups and plates

* Red and white paper bunting, on loan from the lovely lady at Mint Jelly

* Autumn leaves, collected from the park with Madeleine several weeks earlier

* A picnic rug

* Two fibre-glass toadstool stools, on loan from my Mum

2. A little bit more

If you can spend just a little more, helium balloons will always be well appreciated by little ones. We (and by we I mean my generous parents who wouldn't let me pay them back) purchased a helium kit from Spotlight. I chose to use only yellow balloons as I wanted to create a "sunny sky" effect and blue would have made the room too dark (that's why the clouds were partly blue instead). I dangled some of the bees, butterflies and ladybirds I had made from the balloons, to make it look as though they were flying around the room. As you can imagine, these were very popular.

3. Your one extravagance

Our one big splurge was three sheets of 1m x 3m synthetic grass, and we went back and forth in the lead-up to the party as to whether or not we would go there. Originally, I thought my idea to use the synthetic grass was genius. I figured that off-cuts would be a super-cheap, easy way to create a "wow factor" in the room (I REALLY wanted to earn that soft "Wow" from Madeleine), and make it a snatch to clean up. I was right about the wow-factor, and the easy clean-up. But this grass is surprisingly expensive. At one point, we were thinking it would be cheaper to just lay real turf in the playroom!

In the end we decided to go ahead and get the grass because we would use it afterwards in our courtyard, to create a bit of a softer, 'garden' area for the children to play until we could afford to pull up the tiles out there and landscape (that could be years).

So there you have it. Madeleine's "winter woodland picnic" themed birthday party. Games were mostly parallel play (because have you ever tried to get a bunch of two-year-olds to do the same thing when you want them to?), with a bit of stop-start dancing and a mini treasure hunt thrown in. Add some cake and chocolate and surprisingly-popular healthy snacks into the mix, and your party is done and dusted, right there.

Subdued, happy

Subdued but happy describes the mood around here today. We are all in post-party fallout mode, after Madeleine had not one but two big birthday parties in a row on the weekend, followed by another mini-party this morning since it was her actual birthday and her Nanna and Pa were leaving to go back to Sydney.

I am still trying to come to terms with what this milestone means to me, as a mother. If you follow me on Instagram, you'll see I wrote a little mini-blog-post about it to go with the photo above, last night.

More about that later. While I gather my thoughts - and energies and emotions - here are some gentle things you can do the next time you are in the same kind of subdued-but-happy mood.

1. Subscribe to Peeky Me, a craft-with-your-kids post-subscription service with a project, materials and instructions in every box (seen via Sunday Collector)

2. Hang a painting in your home. I love these bluebird woodcut sculptures so much. Like the modern home's trio of ducks (seen via Swiss Miss)

3. Switch out processed sugar for fruit. We have eaten our own weights in sugar this weekend. And I had to make and decorate TWO cakes and both of them lacked... well... most of what you'd want in a birthday cake. I suppose it's a parenting rite of passage to botch the novelty birthday cake. Next time, this cake!

4. Join Pippit, a new app-driven social media platform that's kind of like Instagram and Pinterest and blogs all rolled into one. You can just follow along what other people are creating, or share your own (blogs, photos, whatever). If you want to find me, my username is naomibulger

5. Share something with somebody who wants the stuff you no longer want or need

6. Reorganise a space in your home. I always feel better and clearer-of-head when I remove the clutter and find a place for everything. I kind of like this idea, but then, I wonder if it would just end up becoming a dumping ground in our house

7. Tell the world anything

8. Read something funny and lovely and completely pointless, just for fun. Like this (I actually related to kind of 'urban mystery' experience, it happens to me all the time. Usually without the resolution)

9. Kick-start your creativity. This Inspiration Information online course with Pip Lincolne (of Meet Me at Mikes) starts today. You can still join. We are on a post-party budget so I can't do it this time around, but it is on the top of my wish list for the coming months

10. Get a pot plant. This hanging succulent garden is calling my name but in the meantime, a humble pot plant would make me quite happy

11. Paint your own happy faces on wooden spoons

12. This Book Was a Tree looks amazing. I really want to get it and use it with my children. Have you read it?

Kate & cat

This stunning photographic suite of a little Russian girl at play with her cat is my new happy place. I could say more but really I think the photographs speak for themselves. Watch these two grow up together, so lovely!

The photographer, Andy Prokh, was born in Siberia. He is a former economist who switched careers after more than 10 years, and turned to photography instead. Take a look through the gallery of his works. I find it a little bit Alice in Wonderland-esque: one minute dark, the next funny, now I'm confused, now I'm in love.

All images used with Andy's Prokh's kind permission

Snail mail: Dear you

And none will hear the postman's knock Without a quickening of the heart. For who can bear to feel himself forgotten? ~W.H. Auden, "Night-Mail"

Dear you, you are not forgotten. THANK YOU for reading this little blog of mine, and for your comments, and your feedback, and just being here with me. I sent five of you some little painted packages in the post last week, I hope they reach you in one piece and I hope you enjoy them! I'm writing and decorating some more right now, so the postman will be knocking again soon.

I love to write mail, and sending you something by post is the least I can do to say thank you for subscribing and for reading. If you'd like some mail from me, just go to the subscribe page and fill in the form to send me your mailing address. Also, it's not too late to enter to win a copy of the launch issue of the stunning new Alphabet Family Journal and a poster by Bianca Cash. Details for this competition are on this post about family (take a look at the comments others have left - they are incredibly moving!).

And now for a spot of nostalgic poetry: the complete poem "Night Mail" from which the quote came above, written by WH Auden for a 1936 documentary of the same name, and narrated by John Grierson.

Melbourne dispatch - Kinfolk Cafe

There is a hand-drawn sign just inside the door of Kinfolk, a little social enterprise cafe on Bourke Street in Melbourne, and this is what it says.

rules of kinfolk

allow yourself to BE you...open up to receiving generously and giving generously...

teach others with your smile, learn to let your heart sing, your soul

dance... savour every mouthful. give thanks. Take praise. DO

what you do best and enjoy it. Share. Care... sit a while... and come again...

I've been wanting to share Kinfolk with you for literally years. It was one of my favourite places to go eat and read a book when we first moved to Melbourne, before I had kids and had to factor pram-parking into my eateries of choice. You'll find it right down the bottom of Bourke Street, near Southern Cross Station, so it's also where I used to meet friends visiting from interstate or overseas, giving them somewhere lovely to relax after they stepped off the airport bus and before we had to board the tram.

Run with the help of up to 30 volunteers, Kinfolk is a not-for-profit space, directing its income between development projects for communities in need in Rwanda, Ghana, Palm Island and Melbourne. Customers can choose where they would like the profit from their meal to go by popping a coffee bean into a jar, or trust Kinfolk to distribute it where it's most needed.

As you'd expect, the food is seasonal and wherever possible organic, biodynamic, locally-sourced and fair-trade managed. Oh and delicious. What you see on my plate is a chicken tagine with seasonal vegetables, but there are always vegetarian and vegan options on the menu too.

Last year they ran a crowd-funding campaign and successfully raised enough money to lease the space behind the cafe, enabling them to install a commercial kitchen, build on the catering side of the business, expand the menu, add 30 percent more table seating, and increase trading hours. Through all of this, they are now able to raise more profits for their project partners.

What does family mean to you? Introducing "Alphabet Family Journal"

(A little secret: there is an awesome, not-sponsored giveaway at the end of this post)

What does "family" mean to you?

When I was a little girl not much older than Madeleine is now (almost two), one of my favourite books was a Little Golden Book called Happy Family. The book was written in the 1950s and it was oh so 1950s America. It starred two children Tony and Peggy, their parents, a dog named Skipper and a cat named Kiki. Over the years I have wondered why I loved that story so much. It was pretty boring really. Vanilla. From memory, they have a party or go to the beach or something. They get ice cream. It's no The Monster at the End of this Book or The Tiger Who Came to Tea, both of which I also loved. (Still do.)

And even back when I was growing up, families were a lot more diverse than Tony and Peggy would have had us believe.

And now here we are in 2014 and a new magazine called Alphabet Family Journal is about to launch. It celebrates families in every iteration and in all the messy inconsistencies that make up what we call "home." I don't know if there will be any "Mum, Dad & 2.5 kids"-style families in the first issue of Alphabet. I guess there could be, since that's one version of a family, and it's as valid as the next. But I really like the way the people behind Alphabet Family Journal define "family" in the broadest possible sense: "people who make a home together."

I feel like this magazine has been written for me in all the stages of my adult life. For the me that is a wife, a mother to two children under two, and a stepmother to two almost-grown-up girls who live here sometimes but not all times. But also for the me that was single and living alone (except for my dog) in an apartment in New York, with a "family" that was made up of my closest friends and neighbours. And for the me that lived in a dormitory on my university campus, emotionally lost and spiritually confused and longing, desperately, to be part of the kind family I thought would make me "legitimate" in the eyes of my peers.

It's possible I've drawn a rather long bow from a simple definition, and that maybe Alphabet Family Journal won't quite meet every expectation I've built up for it in my head. But I'm fairly confident it will come close. Each issue promises to present stories, ideas and curiosities about "family," inspired by a letter of the alphabet. Starting, not exactly surprisingly, with A. So the first issue covers topics from living with Aspergers to the challenges of Attention in everyday life, an honest look at Adoption, a moving study of Audio in our homes and photo essays themed Africa, Autumn Nights, Abode, Alstonville and Anticipation.

In a Kickstarter campaign to launch the magazine, founder and creative director (Sydney-based photographer Luisa Brimble) said "It seemed like many parenting or family-related magazines were representations of a polished, perfect home that was, quite simply, not at all like our own homes. So we set out to create an alternative: a family journal that celebrates the personal foundations of our homes in their many different forms." With the help of crowd-funding they also made a commitment to recognise and reward the work of their contributors, something too few independent publications do these days.

I can't wait to read it! After all, as the creators say, "We're what you read when you want to feel like you belong."

And as for Happy Family? After probably way too much thought, I have come to realise that what I loved so much about it was the extended story-line. They get up, they have a party, they have some fun, they go to bed. In children's book land, that should be the end of the story. But guess what? They wake up the next morning and have MORE VANILLA ADVENTURES. And what did that mean? Delayed lights-out time for toddler me! Shazam. Mystery solved.

>> Keep scrolling for the giveaway, after the pretty pictures >>

Photo credit above: Elize Strydom. All photographs courtesy of Alphabet Family Journal

A giveaway

When I decided to write this post I contacted Luisa Brimble to ask for her permission to use some photographs. She very kindly sent through all the photos you see here, and more, to give you a sneak peek of what's inside Alphabet Family Journal. But even more generously, she also offered to give away a free copy of Issue 1 AND this gorgeous "Be Kind" poster by Bianca Cash (I am so jealous) to one of you! I figured you'd be pretty happy about that so I said a big YES, THANK YOU.

To be in the running, simply leave a comment below telling me what "family" means to you. It can be one word or a whole essay, anything you like. I just appreciate this chance to get to know you better. For an extra chance in the draw, share the love by going over to the Alphabet Family Journal Facebook Page and hitting "like" (then let me know you've done-so). I'll draw the winner at random at 4.50pm on this Friday 13 (oooh!) June, Melbourne time. Good luck!

Sorry, the competition is only available within Australia.

UPDATE 13/06/14: This competition is now CLOSED. Thank you all for your interest and for all the amazing, beautiful and moving thoughts and feelings you shared about "family." And a big, heartfelt congratulations to the winner, Zanni.

12 lovely things to do on your day off

It's the Queen's Birthday long weekend today. Happy birthday Queen! Happy day off all of us! Here are 12 lovely things you can do with your free day to make you feel good.

1. Shout a stranger a coffee (just pay for two when you're buying yours) 2. Shout a CHARITY a coffee (or the cost of one), using this app 3. Sit down and draw a picture. Take your time on it 4. Go for a spot of urban foraging (the lemons are great right now) 5. Sing. Really loudly. Just belt that tune out 6. Sort out all your clothes and put aside the ones you don't wear any more to give to charity 7. Grounding (have you ever tried it?) 8. Hot tea! Crumpets with honey! 9. Bake something you've never baked before. I might try baking bread 10. Write a postcard to someone you've been thinking about 11. If you can get your hands on a baby, tickle one 12. Walk + camera. You'll notice things you'd never normally see

Easy gift to make: tea stamps

How have these early days of winter been treating you? I have been getting out of the house as much as I can, because I know that when things get really cold and wet we will all be trapped indoors. The other day I pushed the pram more than seven kilometres in the rain to go along to a little blogger meet-up in Collingwood. The meet-up was great and it was lovely to meet so many kind, talented people who I'd been admiring online. On the other hand, pushing a double pram in the rain is somewhat uncomfortable, because it requires two hands just to keep it on the footpath (or else it will swing around into the traffic), and that doesn't leave any hand free for holding an umbrella. The rain wasn't heavy, but let's just say my winter coat now needs a dry-clean. Walking around town, I smell like wet dog.

Sometimes I look at myself in the mirror and think, I walk for hours every day, pushing two heavy children in a pram, and I am breastfeeding a hungry baby day and night. Why haven't I shed the last of those baby kilos? And then I look at my diet, and think about the hours of sleep I'm not getting, and there's my answer. There's nothing I can do about the sleepless nights at the moment but I could improve my diet, with just a smidgeon of self-discipline. And I know I should. But when you are coming off the back of yet another broken night of sleep that cumulatively added up to three and a half hours, that coffee and brownie may be the only thing standing between you and total meltdown. So then I say to myself "Self, today I will cut you some slack. We'll work on our tummy and thighs some other day."

Other than work, which I never really talk about on this blog but which happens with monotonous regularity, our days have been marked by gentle adventures. Trips to the zoo. Visits to our favourite cafes and parks. We joined a new play group, so that Harry could make some little friends his own age. The babies are all about two months younger than him which in the scheme of things won't make a difference but right now, when they all lie down together on a mat, he looks like he has been steadily eating his way through their friends.

I have been decorating some mail to send to you guys, and just popped another five parcels in the mail. And recently I made these little "tea stamp" books to send in the mail to some readers and friends. I can't claim credit for the idea, it came from a dear pen pal of mine who goes by the name of Flora Likes Soap on Etsy. I covered the 'books' with used stamps and then just attached three different flavours of organic tea bags (green tea, peppermint tea and chai). They make lovely little handmade presents because they are quite compact, and very lightweight to send in the post.

How have you been filling your days?

Kindness

I've been thinking about kindness lately, and how much of it is conscious, and how much of it is innate. What do you think about this? I believe some people have a talent for kindness: being thoughtful and generous is their natural default. I married someone like that. Mr B is generous beyond anyone I have ever met, and I get to witness this every day. A long time ago I told this little story about Mr B and the simple kindnesses by which he marks his days. These events are not even remotely unusual in life with my husband.

So here's what I am thinking about. There is a lot of noise out in the world about the tiny dictatorship that is the toddler attitude, and I'm no stranger to what that means. On any given day, I can be screamed at because the mandarin didn't stay in one piece after we peeled it, or because I didn't wash and dry the Peppa Pig top in time for Madeleine to wear it an hour after she spilled food on it, or because I lifted her off the swing after only 40 minutes of pushing.

Recently Mr B bought me a copy of the Reasons My Kid is Crying book and it really did make us laugh. The poor little tot on the cover is heartbroken because somebody broke his cheese in half. Madeleine has actually made that same face over an identical tragic dairy-related event.

But do you know what? As any parent, or guardian, or aunty or uncle or grandparent or friend or babysitter or big brother or sister or anyone else who spends big chunks of time with a toddler could attest, these little people have a natural tendency for love, and affection and, yes, kindness and even thoughtfulness.

Sometimes when I am so tired that for a moment I just have to put my palms over my eyes and press, hard, to stop the pain from exploding out of my temples, Madeleine places her own sticky palms over my hands. "Hi Mummy," she will softly say, with a smile.

"Poor Harry," Madeleine will announce, when Harry is crying. Then she will run over to him and make the funny noise that only she can make that always makes him laugh, or do a little dance for him, or give him a toy (or six). Then she will run to me and report back. "Harry waa waa! Me la-la-la. Me toy." And I'll say "Thank you for helping, is he happy now?" She will beam. "Yes!"

Like most toddlers, Madeleine loves to help. She wipes down her little table after eating, she helps me load the washing into the dryer, she holds doors and gates open for me when I'm pushing the pram (that is actually genuinely helpful), and she even 'helps' lift the pram up the steps and into our house. When she asks for apple and I give it to her, she says "Day doo (thank you) Mummy!" in a happy singsong voice, unprompted. It melts my heart every time.

In quiet moments, Madeleine strokes my hair, or kisses me, or snuggles into me just because... love.

When she is kind to me, or her brother, or a little friend, I make a big deal with the recognition and the praise. Because her kindness, her generosity of spirit, it's all there. I believe it is innate in Madeleine, as it is in all of us. Terrible Twos and Tiny Dictators and tantrums and sharing lessons not-yet-learned... they are all there too. But there is enough noise about those things in the world.

I don't believe in the concept of original sin. I believe in original kindness. Original love. Original affection. Yes yes, and original want, and original selfishness, and original... I don't know... frustration! I guess I believe in original humanity. And I am proud, oh so proud, of the kind and thoughtful little humans that my children are today, as well as the big humans that they are to become.

Snail mail: never give up

This morning when I opened my mailbox I got the best kind of surprise: mail from gorgeous person and motivator-extraordinaire, Katherine Mackenzie of The Beauty of Life. Katherine sent me two postcards, one on which she'd written a little message for me, and another that was left blank so that I could send it on to somebody else. My postcard featured a quote from Harry Potter author JK Rowling. "One thing is for sure: if you give up too soon, you'll never know what you'll be missing. Keep going and never quit."

This was EXACTLY what I needed to hear today, as I struggled to get on top of everything on my plate, and grappled with self-doubt.

And it reminded me of JK Rowling's incredibly inspiring commencement address on "The Fringe Benefits of Failure and the Importance of Imagination," made to Harvard students in 2008. Have you heard it? If you haven't, do yourself a favour and watch it right now. The next 20 minutes may be one of the greatest gifts you could ever give yourself.

J.K. Rowling Speaks at Harvard Commencement from Harvard Magazine on Vimeo.

... Or if you're not a video watcher kind of Internet person (as I so often am not, because I don't want to wake babies sleeping nearby), here is a link to the full transcript of the address. Get ye reading!