Montessori Madness!

In which I talk about why Lolly isn't going to school yet.

You might remember such posts as: Lolly starting school.  Well, reports of her school-going were, apparently, greatly exaggerated.

After some ill-health interruptions to starting Cycle 1, we decided to put off her starting full-time until the final term of the year.  Then, after some long hard thought, I decided she (and I) weren't ready, so we're not starting until next year.  As a family, we also have a lot on our plates at the moment, with Snail's seizures, DinnerDad's crazy work...  She was getting some separation anxiety because of all this.  And, in term 1 next year, Lolly will turn 4, and I think 4 is a different ball game to 3.  Lolly loved her visits to the school, and loves the materials and environment.  I've been so impressed with the school and how they've been flexible with us, too.

School stuff!

Turns out this wasn't the first day of school after all!

Honestly, one of the main reasons is that Lolly is my only child, and I'm not ready.  I wanted 6 more months with just her and me.  Hanging out, playgroup, going to museums and galleries, the library, out for lunch, to the shops and the park with friends.  This is the last time I'll have off work, and where she is not at school, well...ever, during her childhood.  I wasn't ready to say goodbye to that.  I think that despite some arguments to the contrary from the Montessori philosophy, neither was she.

So it's not all sunrise/sunset yet round here.  Give it another 6 months....

A Miscellany

Things we've been doing that haven't been overshared blogged yet.

Lolly, as I've mentioned, is rather keen on doctoring and, now, dentisting all her toys (and anyone she can get to play this with her).  Here she is in the mask the dentist very kindly gave her, taking her horse toy to the dentist, assisted by Nanna.

Warning, this image contains TMI: here's how we roll at Casa Selene.  We fail to make dinner and get DinnerDad to bring home pizza.  We all eat it in front of the TV. During this picture of family togetherness, Lolly has to "go potty", complete with crust of pizza.  Here she is, snapped in the act, while holding her precious pizza crust above her head to stop the dog stealing it.  Oh, and I didn't get this on camera, but the dog totally got "something to eat" from this deal, and it wasn't pizza.  EWWWWW!!!  This is the kind of quality sharing for which I have this blog.  No need to thank me.

I will photograph anything.

 Playing with her awesome new kitchen.

Lolly took this sweet (blurry) photo of Snail holding a balloon.  Holding balloons is Snail's idea of heaven!  She squishes and squeaks then, and laughs and laughs.  

I got a half hour off while taking Smash to soccer the other week, I had coffee and snacks at a lovely cafe in the city.  It was awesome.  

See how there are no kids here.  Or husbands.  Or people of any kind.  Awesome.

Accessibility FAIL: Dymocks Sydney (George St)

OMG the fail.  Dymocks Sydney is the flagship branch for Dymocks in the heart of Sydney.  Sure, there's a great range of books on their accessible ground floor, but imagine my amazement when I asked where the lift was to get to the equally huge second floor.

"Oh, there's no lift, just the escalators.  If you know what you want, I can get it for you?" said the smiling and oblivious assistant.

Riiiight.  Apparently people don't need to look at the books, or go to the cafe upstairs.  Or browse.

[Image credit] Here is the upstairs cafe, being enjoyed only by the able bodied.

The ultimate irony is that the second floor is where all the non-fiction is.  So yeah, the books about disability.  Oh, and the children's books (you can't really get a stroller up, either). 

A disclaimer, I didn't have the wheelchair this trip.  I reckon it still counts, though.  I did have a kid asleep in her stroller, and was unable to get the stroller up the escalator.  So Accessibility FAIL.  

It's all good

Sometimes you get a bonus from having a kid in a wheelchair.  Here is one.  When everyone is boarding a plane, and you're at the end of a long line, with a three year old, and they don't call for kids to board first, it's all good, because at least you don't have to load the wheelchair and get someone to carry Snail in, too.

There's a point where quite inconvenient things still feel easy and smooth if you don't have to take a wheelchair and someone who can't really walk.

Of course, you feel guilty, somehow, for it being easier, or for appreciating that it is easier, but hey, smoke 'em if you got 'em.

So it's all good, right?

We missed Snail this trip.  She would have loved the swimming.

Dragon eats fries while waiting for the plane in Sydney.

The Big City

People in the middle of Sydney are very grey and busy. They all look preoccuppied and shitty.  They talk on phones or have headphones on, or yell busily to each other as they walk together, rushing from place to place.  They all wear black or grey.  No one looks happy.  There are very few children, and those that are there look sad and stressed in their strollers, often crying.  Those children can tell the city doesn't want them.  The city is not for them.  Or for their carers. No one watches out for you as you push your kid around, dodging the angry, busy strides, and the cigarettes held at child eye level.  No one clears the way for you at the curb, or lets you walk your sleeping child in the small patches of shade on the dirty black footpaths.  The shops have steps, or ramps that have big gaps down to the pavement, you can't go in here, these entrances say.  It is loud, and smells bad.  The city is unfriendly and sad.

I like cities, but have always found Sydney to be an alienating and sad place, especially in the inner city.  There aren't many shared smiles, or polite nods.  There is no space made for you if you don't fit the pattern of what the city declares itself to be for: for work, for business, for rushed transactions in inconvenient spaces, for adults, for walkers, for those with money, earning money, and spending money.  If you can't keep up, then you don't belong there: a sharp lesson in survival of the fittest.

The sociologist part of me wonders what on earth we do this for, this crazy 9-5 structure of working days, so far from family and friends, so isolated, a veneer of pointless activity over boredom and repetition, or futility, or even over satisfying or productive effort, but at what cost?  Do we really need to be working like this?  As a society, what do we do it all for?  Can't we come up with something better, or at least more forgiving and flexible, that allows us all to survive, and thrive, as well as making sure our society turns the right cogs and cranks and keeps it all chugging away?  Why isn't our work shorter, more flexible, in more beautiful and meaningful spaces?  Why is there no shared community, or local cooperative industry, or sharing of labour and expertise in ways that don't take us away from everything we actually would like to be doing, be close to, and see grow up?

What I mean, in short, is seriously, WTF?

I really wonder why I would hope and dream for my daughter to take her place in all this mess of horrid activity.  What will it give her?  Why would I wish for so many of her hours and her life to be given in service to such a system?  What does it mean for us, that our spoken values of family and love and community are so very far from what we force people to do all day in order to ostensibly fulfil those lofty goals?

That's what the city, and my husband's demanding and long-hour-ed job, makes me think while "strolling" the streets of Sydney.

Sarcasm and cute pictures will resume tomorrow.

In which Lolly goes swimming.

We stayed at Quay West suites in Sydney, which has a speccy pool on the top floor, well, two pools.  Seriously ritzy.  This is the view from one side.  A bit nice, really.

I mean, check this place out!  Just out of shot on the left is the spa. There's also a massive window there on the right that you look out of from the water, across the harbour.

Here is Lolly and DinnerDad, Lolly has this float-y red ring that fits her perfectly.  During the time we were there, she went from bumbling about with me hanging on to her (and not allowed to let go!), to swimming around herself from one end to the other, with a combo of kicking stylings.  Not without her red ring of swimming power, though.  Her one effort without it resulting in much sinking and spluttering.

The pool on one side had a panel you can see through, DinnerDad snapped this one of Lolly and I.

We were only there three nights, and went swimming four times.  Lolly is VERY keen on it. She loved swimming, and playing games (pretending to be a turtle and so on).  It was pretty lovely.  And just the right close-to-home low key fun we needed on a happy but really pretty sad trip.

The cute!! It burns!

Sydney-side

We took a last-minute trip to Sydney this week, to see my Grandmother, who is pretty sick.  She has congestive heart failure, it pretty much sucks.  She's been in and out of hospital, and refused with her usual iron will to go to a respite place or hospice.  She's 90, and sticking to her unit (which is in the same street as the house she lived all of her life in Sydney, just a few doors down).  She migrated out here with her husband and boys (my natural father is her oldest son) from England when they were very small.  She's pretty cool, she had active service in the war (overseas postings), and played tennis all her life, up til a couple of years ago.  You know, at 88.

Here is the only photo I though to take while there.  Now kicking self.  I know, right!  It's crappy, blurry, flared, and Lolly and I aren't even in it.  Pissed off with myself.

My Uncle (standing) was SO thrilled when I reminded him he is Lolly's GREAT uncle.

As always with a three year old, I couldn't do much wallowing, or much visiting with people who don't live in a playground, so we did tourist-y things the rest of the time.  Lolly loves Sydney, she's been a few times now, the first time she was only 8 months or so.  The most recent, March this year.  The city isn't really friendly, or conducive to small kids, but if you know where to go there are fun things.  We laid pretty low this trip, though.  Swam at the hotel pool a lot (post to follow!).

Seasoned traveller sits with Daddy.

We were only a couple blocks from the Harbour, which is a great place to go walking with kids.  Plus coffee and icecream.  No coffee for smalls.  Just me.

Not pictured: my panic attack at Lolly leaning over the back to look at the water.  Can you spell NO FRIGGIN FENCE.

 We had buffet breakfast every day.  Which is pretty much my idea of paradise. 

Greeny the crocodile was hungry.

Lolly had FOUR of these mini-tomato juices one morning.  I think they regretted not charging for her breakfast.

Coffee and green macaroons at the Guilan cafe on the Harbour.  And chocolates, of course!

Running races with seagulls and random kids out the front of the Museum of Contemporary Art, Sydney Harbour.

DinnerDad had work stuff, so we got a very nice room.  It was so enormous it had a separate bedroom.  Pretty much made of awesome.  Here's the view.

Separate bedroom!!11!!

Other than this quiet fun, we laid low, and spent time with family.  Special thanks to my Grandma, my Aunt Sue and cousins Crystal and Alicia, and my Uncle David and his wife Janelle, you all rock and I wish we saw each other more often.