ANZAC DAY

A forum that I sometimes read was asking the question what does ANZAC Day mean to you. To me it means so many things.
First of all I am the daughter of a return service man. I have been brought up with all the military rituals and ceremonies. I have done dawn services in nearly every state of Australia. I have watched my father march in so many parades. Last year I took my boys to their first dawn service at the War Memorial (we missed this morning as it was freezing and raining). I feel a great desire to pass on the ANZAC traditions to my children. The legend will only be carried on if it is passed on. Anzac day has always been about my Dad for me. A day for him. A day he needs to help him deal with the horrors he no doubt had to go through. A day to be with people who understand. So for the Rickard family we are starting to teach our boys about ANZAC day with their Grumpy. I found a great book last year called "My Grandad marches on ANZAC day" (We read it as My Grumpy marches...)
ANZAC day is a day for me to think about the men in my family who have served. Of course there is Dad, my Grandfather, my Poppy. And my great Uncle who made the greatest sacrifice for his country. So for me it is so personal. Today I have thought a lot about my Grandad's funeral, just gone 8 years ago. My Dad insisted that the last post be played at his funeral. The memory engraved in my brain as the most touching part of the funeral was my Dad in full military uniform saluting my Grandfather as the last post played. The respect my father felt for his father in law was so evident in that tribute. I will never forget that. Another ANZAC day embedded in my brain was Aunty Jo's last. Dad marched in the dawn service at the Pinegrove cemetery. Aunty Jo was ill but she really wanted to go and see Dad march. In the darkness of the morning, with him not knowing exactly where we would be he crossed the back of the parade so that he could march straight past her. His chest was puffed out proudly, marching for himself and his father. It made Aunty Jo's day. And my lifetime.
But ANZAC day is more than those memories for me. On this forum someone made a comment about anti war. However, all men who go to war do so because they have been asked to by their country. They do so in the belief they are fighting for a cause. Even if the cause isn't necessarily right, but they have been asked. Servicemen do not start wars. It is never their call to go to war. They should never bear the brunt of anti war politics. Because they have been brave and strong and believed in a cause. And done as they have been asked.
Someone asked about the relevance of ANZAC day in today society which is something I have thought hard about today. To me personally it has huge relevance. But many non military people have spoken that it means nothing to them. I cant believe how wrong they are. ANZAC's started "the Australian way". If you take pride to be an Australian then the ANZAC spirit should be your way of life. Australian's got their reputation for mateship, never say die attitude, hard work and strength from these men. Australia would still be thought of as a convict colony if not for these men. Our Australian identity has been born from the Anzac spirit. Therefor ANZAC day is relevant to every Australian and should be forever more.
Lest we forget.

A good mother

Today I was accused of thinking I was "a good mother." It always slightly flabbergasts me that women throw that phrase around as an insult. I think women may use this as an insult because they have measured themselves to be shorter than someone else's yardstick. But you know what, I don't think "good mothering" can be measured when you have children. To me the phrase "a good mother" is a woman who has adult children that are happy, healthy, independent, hardworking with a strong value and moral base. I feel such a woman has proven her great mothering skills by what she has moulded her children into. And therefor she has earned the right to proudly say "I am a good Mum." And the world can look at what she has created and think "She is a great mum to her kids." I hate that that can be turned into an insult. I say to people when they compliment me on my children "Oh! Just as long as you can tell me that when they are adults." How can you "grade" a mother of a toddler when her work has just begun?
But more importantly I believe that the vast majority of Mum's are striving every day to do the best with what they have got. I believe there are thousands of way to raise a child and all of them are the "good" way. I use the example of my own mother and my husbands mother. To look at us we are successful, happy, independent people with a strong moral background and value system. Therefor my mum and Nathan's Mum have proven they are good mums. Not only that we love our Mums dearly and want them involved in the raising of our own children. However we were raised by two very different methods. My mums was a stay at home mum, Nathan's mum worked. My mum had the whole town practically living in her back yard. Nath's mum focused on her own kids. Two very different approaches but the same result. And i think that is wonderful and powerful.
I also believe it takes a village to raise a child. It kills me that my children don't have daily access to their extended family. I work hard at reminding the kids about their wonderful family that they have spread around the globe. I love that Ben speaks lovingly of Aunty Teesh and he was weeks old the last time she saw him in the flesh. I love that Matthew makes a list of things to ask Grumpy when they nest talk (The current question is when will he be old enough to shoot a gun!!!) I give thanks daily to the special 'adopted" family we have accumulated here in Canberra. These people offer the support for the clay that I am moulding. And they are invaluable. Because I am not the only person to "mother" my children. Many people assist in this mammoth task.
So to the person who accused me of this terrible thing of thinking I am a 'good mother". I say don't measure yourself against my yard stick. Because you measure yourself up short and then lash out at me. And when we are talking and I can see difficulties and I offer a differing view, think about it and dismiss it if you like. But know this, I care how that child turns out. That means we are on the same team. However, do not lash out at my abilities. I am raising my children as I see fit. Not to compete with you. Child raising is not a competition. There are no winners. Mum's do what's best for their child in the best way they know how.

Sunset

Couldn't resist posting this awesome Autumn Canberra sunset picture. The colours were spectacular. (They must have been to inspire me to pick up the Canberra (sorry camera!) and go outside in the chilly air)

Ryan's library bag

Last year I made Matthew's library bag. So it was only fair to make Ryan's too. However I am a lot more time poor this year and poor Ryan didn't get his library bag until week 8 of term! But here it is............ the extent of my sewing skills!

Our genius child!

Lately this blog has been a huge brag about Matthew's schooling achievements. Well I'm on a roll so I will continue! At his assembly he got......... A merit certificate! We were so proud of him and we were so lucky that he got it when it was Kindy's turn to host the assembly which meant we were there to see it! Poor Mummy was blubbering away in the back corner! I was so proud of the whole kindy year! They sang all of their "Jolly Phonics" jingles. They demonstrated their maths abilities (Matthew was =!). And generally showed us what they have been learning.

(This was the best photo we got because we sat so far back!)

It goes without saying that we are so thrilled with his progress. He loves school. He soaks in anything that Mrs Nelson teaches him. And he enjoys it more than anything! (Especially more than staying home with Mummy at school holidays!)

Easter

The Easter Bunny has been and gone...... 3 times! The first time he came it was 6am and we realised he had been to visit with Ryan going "What is this egg in my hand?" I think he had sniffed out the chocolate before he was even awake! A hunt for eggs started and the consumption of chocolate began! All before the sun was up!

Benny showing us how full his bag was.

The competition was fierce in the hunt!

Ryan was so kind, sharing with his brothers some of the eggs he had found. I was so proud of him, he needed a kiss and a cuddle!

Say "Chocolate!"

I don't know where he gets this from?!

Mmmmmm foil flavoured chocolate!

The second visit happened at about 5pm. Cleon and Michelle spotted a rabbit laying suspicious packages in our front yard. A discussion about rabbits laying eggs and pooing ensued! My grandad would be so proud! My children are thoroughly convinced the Easter bunny poos' chocolate eggs!

Getting ready to hunt

Any in here?

"Mum the Easter bunny poo'ed on the car handle! How did his bum get up there?"

And here too!

In the tree?

Our friends Treb, Cid, Eli and Jacob joined us and Brenty and Cleon and Michelle for Sunday Roast. Here is Eli getting into the hunt, his first as the bunny delivers to his bedside!

The final Easter hunt was the next morning. We got an S.O.S from Uncle Brenty saying the Easter bunny had visited him and he needed some help!

No bags for this hunt and poor Benny kept dropping his eggs!

It's not fair, his hands are smaller than his brothers!

Ryan is a chocolate sniffing machine!

Brenty counting his eggs!

Benny counting his eggs!

Playcentres

Today I dropped $50 at a local play centre. Seriously, I paid $40 entry to watch my children and ensure they behaved and played nicely, whilst every other mother sat on their arse, drinking coffee and chatting to their friends. We had only been there half an hour when I thought i could hear Ryan crying. I dismissed it because the crying was coming from a different direction to where I had last seen Ryan. Anyway the crying persisted so I went to investigate. I found Ryan on the floor of the ball pit having his eyes gouged out by a two year old whilst all the other kids in the ball pit looked on. So I jumped in there and got him and told off the little girl (Hoping her mother was close by so she could get a clue!) Then as I was comforting him Matthew brought Ben up to me. He had been slapped by an older child and he had bitten the inside of his cheek. There was blood running down his face! So I now had two children to give the evil eye too! Fast forward another hour (after spending $10 on chips for lunch!) and I could hear Ben crying. The same girl who eye gouged Ryan was doing it to him. However the story ends differently here I then watched in slow mo (pushing through the crowd...) as Ben grabs the little girls arm and sinks his teeth into her!!!!! I get to him and firstly check out his eye then I scold him (gently but still) then I march the girl back to her mother (as i had figured out who she was by the number of times she had been hauled back there!) I apologised for my son biting her but explained he did it in retaliation for her eye gouging him. She look mildly surprised then she saw the bite marks and was all set to ark up when Ryan arrived and I said "Yes not the first time today she drew blood earlier on my other son too!" I showed her his face still red with scratch marks the worst on his eyelid and marched my children away.
So whilst the boys had a lovely time I hated every minute of it. It stinks being the only responsible mother. (and i do mean only! All the others were sitting whilst I was following where mine where. At the very least I was watching from a chair but usually I was beside the play structure) Yes ,we all need time out but choose the time more carefully when other children aren't at risk!
On a positive note though, I loved watching the boys play together. There were a hundred kids they could have played with. The could have played by themselves but they were the three musketeers! They looked out for each other and had a ball together. They really looked like they were good mates!

http://heart-and-soul-blog.com/

My lovely long time friend took some time while we were all together in Qld at Christmas to take some photos. She has done a gorgeous job. It certainly isn't easy trying to co-ordinate 7 children under 7, 9 adults (1 of them acting like a child, noddy saying I don't want my photo taken!) and a dog! But she did it and did it beautifully. The shots are gorgeous and I love the colours. You don't get these kind of photos in a studio. So Nicole I think you have just become our family photographer!

If you would like to have a look at more of Nicole work or book her for a shoot check out her website at

http://heart-and-soul-blog.com/

Can

Many, many, many years ago when I was learning to read I had a word bear. It's arms and legs were full of words and you had to tick them off when you could read them. My whole class had finished their word bear and I hadn't because there was one word I couldn't read. This words was "can". Apparently the word would come up and I would read "say" or "dog" or "actually". It frustrated my mum immensely! I mean come on can is such and easy word to read you can even sound it out! I don't know why I couldn't read it I just know it made a HUGE impact on my mothers life. She would spend hours reading with me to get me to read correctly that one word! I don't know maybe when you are the first middle child in four you do anything for some attention because it seems such an easy word to read now. I personally don't remember not being able to read "can" but I do remember that word bear. Funnily enough, not so long ago my Mum gave me all of the special things she had collected over the years and the boys and I love to got through them ever so often. We have compared my first kindy painting to that of Ryan and Matthew and no doubt we will do it with Ben's. But I am sidetracked! My Mum gave me everything BUT that word bear! She couldn't part with it because it reflected all that hard work she had put in to me.
Anyway fast forward twenty something years and there is me sitting on my bed with some readers for Matthew called.......... Cans! (Nathan was really excited i had got Matthew a reader about boobs by the way!) The story is about a cat who finds his cat food in a can. Anyway we start with the heading.... Cans and Matthew says I don't know that work Mum. So I say "Sound it out Buddy" and he says "Cat" (there is a picture of a cat on the cover). I say no Buddy start with the first letter so he says " C...C....C...Catfood". I say "No Buddy it was a C but after that it is an A...A....A...! Lets look at the letters and sound it out! So he looks again and says no I really don't know that word!"
This isn't the first time my history has been repeated. My mother would take great delight in what happens on a daily basis in this house!