we've got kids

A phone conversation with my mum when Poet was about 6 weeks old:

Mum: "How are you?"

Me: "Good thanks Mum."

Mum: How are the kids?"

Me: "What kids?"

Mum: "Your kids."

I remember holding the phone away from my ear and saying to Daniel: "Shit! We've got kids!" This concept, or reality, was probably harder to get used to than when we first became parents. While saying out loud that we were parents to children was difficult, the transition, from the 3 of us to the 4 of us, has been really smooth. I think that has a lot to do with our babymoon and the fact that we don't try and squeeze too much into each day - sometimes getting a load of washing on is good enough (we aim high here!).

So, now that we've got the picture perfect pigeon pair, most people presume that we're done.

"Oh no," we say. "We want four."

Yep, Daniel and I would love to have four kids. Our only concern is whether we can afford four kids. I know money doesn't make the world go 'round but there's no denying that it plays a pretty significant role in our lives. For instance, 2 litres of organic milk (currently $5.29) is not going to go far with four little ones, is it? My solution? We'll buy a cow.

So, while pondering the realities of four children today (an interesting thought process to have while at the hairdresser and spending the first hour ever away from Poet - and subsequently realising that four kids probably wouldn't allow me the pleasure of having my hair done at the rather expensive salon I go to) I stumbled across an article about families. And the gist of the article went something like this:

Is it environmentally-friendly to have more than two children in this day and age?

One interviewee said: "No! The world is full enough. We have no more room for the little tuckers."

And the family advocate, unsurprisingly, said..."Yes! A family of four who grow their own food and raise their children with an awareness of healthy, eco-friendly living is far more essential than the family with one child, a slew of technology and the desire to consume, consume, consume."

So while there were a lot of generalisations and only two perspectives, the article got me thinking and still has me wondering.

I'd love to hear what you think...

top photo: "Che waiting for an ice-cream"

bottom photo: "Poet in her cocoon (with new Ikea spotty quilt)"

Q&A - Making Peace With Birth

Through teaching pre-natal yoga I have met countless mothers who struggle with the memories of their first birth. The emotions that stem from their experiences are deeply embedded. I wasn't surprised when so many of you commented or emailed me with the same question: "How do I journey towards my second birth if my first was such a traumatic/painful/scary experience?"

You have to make peace.

Bee has come to my yoga classes during both her pregnancies. When she turned up to class for her second pregnancy we greeted each other with open arms - delighted to be growing our babies at the same time. She was eight weeks ahead of me in her pregnancy and she was struggling.

Bee suffers from Hyperemesis - severe nausea and vomiting during pregnancy. It's not just morning sickness - she vomits from five weeks pregnant right up until she births. She constantly feels sick. Sometimes she vomits eight times a day.

I knew that her pregnancy was a challenge and so I comforted her and attempted to nurture her in the best way that I could - encouraging her physical, emotional and spiritual journey through the practice of yoga. Bee was also unhappy about her first birth and needed to process the experience before she could move on to 'preparing' for her second birth.

This is what I knew. Which, it turns out, was only a snippet of the story.

I contacted Bee a few weeks ago and asked if she would be interested in being interviewed. She had told me that during the birth workshop she attended that she had made peace with her first birth so I knew that she would be the perfect candidate for this post.

When she sent me her story I sat in awe. Without doubt she is the most courageous and equally gracious woman I have ever met. But since reading her story I have a new-found respect for her unending strength, love and determination.

Bee wholeheartedly knows what it means to surrender and let go. She knows how to make peace. I'll let her tell the story...

Q & A

A few weeks ago I wondered if you had any questions for me about yoga for pregnancy, birth and beyond. It turns out that you do. I have decided to write a series of posts to 'answer' you and some will be accompanied by interviews with a few of my past students. Topics will include:

• "Conscious Conception"
• "Preparing for a VBAC"
• "Letting go of Fear"
• "Preparing for a Homebirth"
• "Surrender"
• "Making Space and Being Calm"
• "Preparing for a Caesarian Birth"

Tomorrow I'll be posting about a topic that, it seems, will resonate with many of you. "Making Peace with Birth" will include a little discussion from me accompanied by the courageous and gracious story of one of my beautiful students, Bee. Her story is an unforgettable one.

If you are reading this and would like to ask me a question, please go ahead. I'll add it to the list!

Now is a good time to mention that I am not a midwife, a medical practitioner or a birth educator. I'm a yoga teacher, mother and journalist. These stories are informed by my own experiences, research and the blessing that has been the meeting, teaching and learning from my pre-natal students.

Till tomorrow...

Photo by Daniel Grey

housekeeping, garden mending

Mama and Popa's garden is abound with edible treats (and plastic snakes to scare away the birds). It's fun to photograph and even more enjoyable to pick and choose - rocket or kale? carrots or coriander? chilli or kumquat? I love wandering in the garden that I grew up in and discovering the latest council pick-up treasure (iron gate, cane basket, terracotta pot).

I usually come home with a bouquet of herbs, a bag full of greens and a mind full of wondering why my own vegie patch is nothing more than a cluster of weeds. I think I've inherited the "green thumb" but I'm definitely hindered by time. At least that's my excuse. It seems that growing herbs, cherry toms and snow peas on my balcony is not a problem but wandering down the stairs and into my back garden is.

So, it was with serendipitous fortune that I read Greener at the Grassroots in a recent issue of the Sydney Morning Herald (a complimentary gift with my homeshop delivery).

"If it's important to you, you'll find the energy for it. It becomes less of a chore and more of a lifestyle...the rhythm of making things becomes a joy."

I stuck the article and it's accompanying photo on my fridge and every day I'm reminded of Annie's words of comforting wisdom.

My vegie patch isn't visible just yet, but my intention is blossoming, abundantly so.

The rhythm of dreaming, planning and foreseeing is a joy in itself.

the girl in the blog

In the past few years I've had a number of strangers approach me and tell me that they read my blog. My reaction is one of complete surprise, closely followed by gratitude. Then I get thinking about why you're actually reading my words - who are you? where do you come from? and why do you keep returning to this space I call Che and Fidel?

Being 'the girl in the blog' is strange. I am very honest with my stories here, I write from my heart about my personal life. But while what I write is the truth, it has never been the whole truth and it never will be. Living my life is one thing and blogging about it is, well, a story in itself.

There are times when I feel guilty for not commenting on your blog when you comment on mine. And then I realise that I've got blog-guilt and I laugh at the absurdity of it all. Reading blogs can be inspiring, heart-warming and comforting. But it's a big, deep world in here and there are plenty of times when I have, as a reader, been left with feelings of inadequacy, jealousy and self-doubt. It's silly and fickle, but it's real.

Many of you have commented or emailed me recently, expressing your thanks for the calm in this space.

And so it's with a coy smile and perhaps a giggle that I say: you can't have the calm without first experiencing the chaos.

reptilian times

If you drive up to the Central Coast from Sydney, you'll notice a big dinosaur near the Gosford exit. It's an icon and it's been around for as long as I can remember. Its name is Ploddy.

Yesterday we took Che to the Australian Reptile Park for the first time. We didn't tell him that we were going, just turned up with a picnic lunch and a bunch of surprises in store. Regarded as one of the country's best zoos, it's well-known for it's hands-on approach. But the whole experience is made all the more wonderful if you're good friends with the Head Keeper. And so, we got taken behind-the-scenes to see the baby Tazzie Devils, itsy-bitsy alligators, furry wombats and curly snakes. Che had an absolute ball; always rearing to get to the next animal, the next spider, the next snake. Daniel even got to go behind the enclosures where cobras got a little annoyed by the lens.

The park is home to a range of furry and scaly creatures and the keepers are dedicated to educating the public about them. Conservation is a priority too and, at present, all their efforts are geared towards Devil Ark - the largest Tasmanian Devil conservation breeding programme on mainland Australia. Sadly, a genetic tumour disease is wiping out Tasmanian Devils in the wild. To ensure the national icon doesn't end up on the extinction list, the Australian Reptile Park is trying to raise $7 million to establish a successful breeding programme. They also need 6.5km of fencing...read more here about how you can help.

On the drive home yesterday Che fell asleep in the car and last night, while I was tucking him into bed, he declared the entire day one of his most favourite times ever.

Thanks so much Billy for making it extra special.

only now...

have I realised that our leap of faith has led to dreams realised.

Because today Daniel worked on a film set, I wrote stories from home while Poet slept beside me and Che played and learned at Montessori.

Tonight I sip tea with gratitude.

Tim is in the camera

knock knock: weaver of words

I always envisioned a little dark-haired, bright-eyed girl that would be Poet. And now she's here. When a little gift arrived from Claire earlier this week I knew, in my heart, that Poet's name is perfect for her. Seeing it on that gorgeous knock knock sign up there (the floral! the blooms! the colours! the stitching!) was enough - she is most definitely Poet. We sometimes call her Poe, or Poe Poe or Poppet. Che calls her Baby or Sooky La-La. She may weave words, she may not. All I know is that she's weaved a lot of love into our family and our home.

Some things about Poet:

• She's a wriggler - a mover and a shaker
• e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e says: "Oh those lips!" when they meet her
• And then they say "Her eyes are so big!"
• She's very social, likes to be in on the conversation
• She drinks milk - a lot of milk, a lot of the time
• Her cheeks are getting mighty chubby
• She was born in the water, her birth sign is water and she is happiest in water
• Every night since she arrived she has slept next to me - oh so precious
• She reminds me that no matter what's going on in our life, we are so blessed

I'm all for filling our home with beautiful heirloom pieces that will be treasured by us and by our children. Poet will, no doubt, have her knock knock sign for ever. And there's something incredibly special about just that. Thank you Miriam for threading love into each and every (hand) stitch.

p is for party

Friday morning 6.30am: "Mum is it my birthday today?"

6.31am (after I nudged Daniel to wake up): "Happy Birthday to You! Happy Birthday to YOU!"

6.33am: Che stands up, looks at himself and declares that he is most definitely bigger. We then ask him to look under the bed and in all his hurried excitement he pulls the presents out and bumps his head. "I'm ok!" He opens some books, a ruler, some clothes and, finally, the lego jet plane. His response: "I have wanted this for all of my life, for years and years. It is wonderful! It is amazing! Let's build it now!"

So while I baked cookies and made sandwiches and prayed for the sun to stay and the wind to stop, Daniel and Che started building lego. A few hours later we headed to the park that was, unfortunately, wildly windy. Gale force. Like nature was celebrating the birth of Che - my air child - it has been windy on his 1st, 2nd, 3rd and now 4th birthday. We played at the park for half-an-hour then headed to Mama and Popa's house for tea, cake and party food (in the calm that was shelter).

The lego cake was a hit (oh the vivid sweetness that is food colouring!), the party hats made for lots of fun and the wild duck sitting on her soon-to-be-hatched eggs in Popa's vegie patch provided a little bit of 'farmyard' entertainment. I was reminded, like I am every year, that with little kids it's the simple things that are the best. Who knew that star-shaped vegemite sandwiches, party poppers and stripy straws could keep a bunch of four-year-olds happy?

My favourite moment of the party was when Che's little (girl) friend Vali came running back into the house to give him a handmade pressie: "Che, this is a pink clay love heart that I made for you," she said. And then we all melted.