For a kid who loves air-guitaring to rock and roll, munching on carrot sticks, drawing aliens and playing wii golf… my 4 year old son comes up with some superb brain-hurting questions:

“If God made everything and everyone… then who made God?”

“Hey if I had a dream, and then I woke up, what if this is a dream, and when do I wake up?”

“When grandma dies, will she come back as grandma? Or do you think she can choose who she wants to come back as?”

“And what if every adult died at the same time? Like if a big rock fell from space. And it could only kill the tall people. How will there be more kids?”

“Are there other countries on different planets in space? And how do you know that?”

And my favourite…

“Why do adults have to work anyway? If they need money, why don’t they just rob a bank?”

I love the kid. Really I do. I also love chatting to him and answering the questions in four year old language.

But what I can’t STAND… is when he asks me a question in a quiet waiting room of a doctor’s surgery… and everyone in the room hears it, and from the corner of my eye, I can see everyone’s ears prick up, and lean a little closer so they can listen in.

(But before you think he’s a genius - that isn’t a colour abnormality in the photo above. Yes, that’s a green smudge on the side of his mouth because he likes to suck on textas.)

A few weeks ago, we were at a park and my 4 year old, Sean came running over to us in tears.

He had a small graze on his shin and a teeny-tiny drop of blood next to it. We wiped away the blood, said “there, there, it’ll be alright”, gave him a pat on the head, and sent him back to his ball game.

A few weeks later, I noticed that his shin had a long red lump on it. His skin was hot to touch, and there was a tiny puncture mark. It all looked very swollen and infected.

I immediately made an appointment to see our doctor, who ordered us to have an ultrasound to see what was inside. She also warned us… that if there was something inside, we might have to get it surgically removed. AAAK SURGERY!

So. Next step. The most important thing was to keep our 4 year old cool and calm about everything. Our plan was to explain the WHOLE medical process to him in meticulous detail, so there wouldn’t be any surprises.

This led him to be very excited. And with his new found interest in photography, he asked if he could take photos. We thought: Uh. Sure. That would be cute. He can document the whole experience.

Sean on the lying down thing, pointing to the computer screen thing, which had lots of blurry blue blocks on it. He loved the whole experience.

“The doctor’s name was Dr Chris and he’s showing me the looking-thing. It looked a bit like a mouse, but it didn’t have buttons on it. It’s just got a panel on it for looking under your skin. But it doesn’t have eyes. Just a panel. A grey panel. That looks.”

“The doctor squirted jelly on my leg and rubbed that looking-thing on my leg. The jelly was cold, and it’s not the jelly that you eat. It tickled a bit, and he was kinda wobbling me around, but I was concentrating and trying to keep the camera still in case it went all blurry.”

“There were two screens of my leg. One was connected to the computer over there next to me and the doctor. And the other was high up on the wall. It was too blurry for me to see. It was just blueness and fuzzy and it had words and numbers around it.”

“This is dad.”

“The doctor said there was something in my leg. It was the stick from the park. He drew a line on my skin to show us how big the stick was. I asked him whether he was using a never-pen [he means a permanent marker pen] because I knew you wouldn’t be happy if the never-pen-ink went on my skin, but he said it was ok to draw on my skin, so I said ok.”

I was going to record Sean’s voice and put it up online, but trust me, he would have talked your ear off.

So. We’ve been referred to see a plastic surgeon, and we’ll be discussing what’s the best way to cut this thing out.

Next step. How to convince my 4 year old that getting his leg cut open will be very cool.

I’ve always been fascinated by the kind of games my boys think up.

The other day my husband and I were ushered into the backyard, and we were presented with a Magic Duo Act. It was SO funny.

My 6yo was trying to make a bottle of honey disappear with a brown paper bag.

While my 4yo did a bit of stand up comedy, which came out like:

“What’s a puppy in the sun, a hot dog!”

He was much too excited to work on his timing, and the fact that he had told this joke about nine million times in the past two weeks didn’t seem to affect his confidence at all.

Now here’s a topic I really believe in – re-usable cloth nappies/diapers.

Liam models the Petite Pocket Nappy in ivory, by Bumwear. You can see he is a natural for the catwalk.

With my first son, I was idealistically opposed to disposable nappies. We went with foldable cotton nappies/diapers with huge safety pins, and plastic cover pants. The nappies were huge in size, and the plastic covers often ripped. And there were often leaks as our nappy origami and pinning technique had to adapt to Callum’s changing size.

It was quite a lot of work, and we did gradually end up using some disposables – especially when we were out and about. And I did prick my finger with the pins, and the sheer bulk of cloth that has to be washed is amazing – lots of water.

Of course, disposable nappies are much, much more convenient – but they cost money, which adds up when a baby needs changing so often, and the dirty nappies fill up the bin and smell bad. Not to mention the environmental impact once they get thrown out.

So after Sean was born, I got into re-usable cloth nappies/diapers, and I became a fan of Bumwear.

I admit that I was initially drawn particularly to Bumwear as a brand because of the fun, vibrant colours – and the name.

But after one child in Bumwear, I am now convinced of their long term functionality as well. It really shows that they were designed by a mother who actually developed them on her kid’s bums!

So I absolutely can recommend re-usable nappies. Much cheaper than disposables, and they are much easier to wash and hang out than old style nappies/diapers. You can even use liners to make dealing with the chunky bits easier.

These are Petite Pocket Nappies, for newborns until they weigh 9 - 10kgs.

These are Bumwear’s best selling One Size Pocket Nappies. They can be worn by babies, from newborns until they are toilet trained. My second son was still able to fit these when he was 3 years old.

Bumwear’s range of colours, patterns, button placements, texture of outer cover, and stretchy-fitted designs have made me happy.

Liam, my newborn is now 8 weeks old and I’m using both cloth and disposables. The basic rule is: re-usable at home, and disposable when we go out for long periods of time, so that when a change happens, I can just dump the offending nappy in a bin, rather than carrying around a dirty one all day.

That’s my workable compromise, and I’m happy with it!

This weekend I helped my two sons make some Mother’s Day pots for their grandmother.

Now I’m not comparing the technical ability of my two boys, as they are 6yo and 4yo - two years apart.

But if I might bring to attention the spirit of their paintings: one is neat and painfully meticulous, whereas the other is wild, vivid and bold.

The difference between my sons’ characters makes me laugh.

Just another day for a breastfeeding mum and a baby with reflux…

Being heavily pregnant, I was very tempted to forgo my second child’s birthday party.

But deep down, I felt my duty as a second-born child myself (and also a middle child) to preserve all childhood equality in the family.

We had a huge family birthday dinner bash at our place. 30 or so members of our family turned up, with an array of Chinese and Malay food. It was great!

My son wanted a Star Wars light saber cake, but after a few days of planning, I couldn’t bring myself to make a cake with bright red icing. So I made a Death Star cake and decorated it with Star Wars characters.

I made a chocolate fudge cake, shaped it into a dome. I used ready-to-roll icing, and coloured it with organic food colouring to make a pale blue-grey. Ok. I admit. Not the most interesting cake to look at, but my 4 year old loved it, and my family members had a good chuckle.

A few days later, I organised a kid’s party for a few of Sean’s kindergarten friends.

Again I was going to skip the “children’s birthday party”, with the excuse that we’ve already had a party for him. But the poor guy has never had a kid’s-only birthday party, so I gave in.

It was held mid-week, in the early afternoon, in our backyard. I borrowed a whole heap of riding toys (and a roller coaster!) from my local toy library. We had a few party games, kid’s party food, another cake, bubbles, lolly bags. The kids ran around and had a blast.

I kept things low-key and relaxed for myself. So overall it was actually really easy and stress-free!

I remember Sean, as a baby, being sensitive and grumpy all the time. Then as a toddler, he was utterly defiant and strong-willed. Over the years, being the second child, Sean’s personality was often over-shadowed by his older brother. He liked, copied and wanted everything Callum had and did.

But last year, with his older brother in full-time school, the days would go by where it was just me and Sean. It gave me an amazing opportunity to get to know him.

Firstly, he talks SO MUCH. He is very articulate, eloquent, and his sentences and expressions are mind blowing. Given the chance, he could talk for 5 hours non-stop when we’re together.

He’s not happy with simply giving a monologue commentary on our day to day activities, or talking to himself.

He asks questions and he wants answers. He wants to discuss things, he comes up with all these crazy ideas and theories, he wants my input and explanations, and he wants me to engage with him.

Sometimes it can be really hard work, especially when I’m not in the mood for conversation.

Having said that, he has an excellent capacity to entertain himself for up to an hour at a time. He has a wild imagination and he loves to make up his own adventures with his superheros and action characters.

He’s a very determined kid. When he sets his mind to a task, he’ll finish it. He will go all the way and not look back.

He’s pretty good about trying new experiences. It doesn’t take much for him to launch into something new or exciting. But once he’s made up his mind about something, it’s close to impossible to change his mind. He’s not easily swayed.

In fact, he is willing to suffer punishment, forego special treats, and go to bed without dinner – just to stick with his decision. Which is something I [somewhat] admire about him.

He’s also very much more of a leader type, than a follower. And unafraid to speak his mind.

Someone gave him a very basic digital camera for his birthday – it just points and shoots, without any auto-focus. Which means most of his photos are very blurry.

He often goes around snapping all kinds of random objects around the house and in his world. Words cannot describe the sheer delight I have when we scroll through his pictures together. We choose one, print it from the computer, cut it out, and pin it up on his wall.

This year Sean started Kindergarten – 2 full days at school. He started off really, really well – full of familiarity, confidence and happy to make friends.

But in the last few weeks, he’s been saying he’s bored at Kindy, his teachers don’t let him have any fun, and he’s quite clingy when it’s time for me to leave. I suspect it’s the impending arrival of the new baby, but I’m still keeping a close eye on him, in case there’s something else going on.

I must admit, I really enjoy hanging out with him all day. He’s like my little, best bud.

I am so proud to say that he is a very cool little kid, and I just love him to bits.

This schedule is for Monday, when both my boys go to Year 1 and Kindergarten. I’m also pregnant!

6:30am – My husband and I wake up. We have a cup of tea together and eat breakfast.

7:00am – Boys wake up, I make them breakfast.

Depending on how much they’ve eaten the night before, they will eat quickly without distraction. Or dawdle with one toasted crust until I’m pulling my hair out and screaming at them to hurry up.

I pack two lunchboxes with fruit, sandwiches, biscuits, and a water bottle.

7:30am – Husband leaves for work. I hustle to get the boys ready for school – brush teeth, change into school clothes, pack school bags, put on socks and shoes, eat vitamins, put on sun cream.

Depending on their mood that morning, they will enthusiastically bounce from one task to another, completing everything in 30 minutes. Or they will dawdle and procrastinate until I’m pulling my hair out and screaming at them to hurry up.

8:00am – I get myself ready for the day.

Depending on MY mood that morning, I’ll be pulling my hair out and screaming at the kids. The morning routine is usually the most stressful for me – especially while pregnant and lacking patience.

8:30am – Drop off older boy to Year 1 classroom.

8:50am – Drop off younger boy to Kindergarten classroom.

9:00am – I wish I could say that I have 6 hours of doing absolutely nothing, while the kids are at school.
But I don’t.

I have doctor’s appointments. I’m getting my hair cut. I have to buy plastic tubs for under bed storage. I have to pop into my mother’s place to pick up something. I have to clean my bathroom. I buy a new cartridge for my printer.

I guess it’s particularly cool that I can do all these things without children.

But as all mothers with school aged children say - “6 hours goes by SO quickly!”

3:00pm – Pick up older boy from classroom.

3:10pm – Pick up younger boy from classroom.

3:30pm – Arrive home. I make a snack for the boys.

4:00pm – Older boy does some reading homework with me.

4:30pm – Boys play, while I start putting dinner together.

5:00pm – Husband comes home. He takes the boys for a walk, or a bike ride, or kick a ball in the park. I usually have to lie down at this point.

6:00pm – We eat dinner.

7:00pm – Kids get bathed.

7:30pm – Kids go to sleep.

8:00pm – Husband washes dishes.

10:00pm – I crash into bed.

Read all my daily schedules (when my kids were at different ages).

This morning, after getting the boys ready for school, I found my 5.5 year old son trying to pry open his money box with a screw driver.

Firstly, where did he find the screw driver?

Secondly, why did he need money?

He looked up at me, and told me that he needed to take some money to school to buy an ice cream from the canteen at lunchtime. He has a few friends who were going to help him.

My child? Going to the canteen? With friends?? He just started Year One two weeks ago!

I was suddenly thrown back 20 years into a self-made, childhood pit of canteen-envy.

I was never allowed to buy things from the school tuck shop. I was so jealous of all the kids who were allowed to have icy poles and lemonades in summer, and warm cinnamon rolls and hot cheesie buns in winter.

I remember hating my lunch – my mother’s sandwiches.

Don’t get me wrong. My mother is a fabulous cook. Growing up on Christmas Island, my mother and a few other mothers would come to school at lunchtime, and set up a picnic for us. There were metal canisters of hot soups, warm rice, yummy meat stir fries with juicy vegetables. There were fried noodles and fish balls, poached egg and pork buns. We were spoilt.

But later, we moved to Australia. And perhaps she believed that being in a Western society, we had to have ham and cucumber sandwiches, every single day, by way of integration or something.

I just wanted noodles and rice.

So unbeknownst to my mother, I started to throw away every sandwich pack she made me. I stole money from the family coin tray, and bought pies and buns from the canteen.

I was so naughty!

So I looked at my child on the floor of his bedroom, screw driver in his hand, and I had one of those unforgettable parental moments where I JUST DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY!

The school actually discourages Year One kids from going to the canteen until Term 2, unless they have an older sibling / friend with them.

So do I ban him from the school canteen?

Do I simply give him some money and let him and his friends work it all out?

Who are these friends who go to the canteen anyway? And how old are they?

Do I let him buy whatever he wants?

How often will he want to go to the canteen?

What if he starts throwing away the sandwiches THAT I WAKE UP AT 6:45AM EVERY MORNING TO MAKE FOR HIM!!!

…

After a couple of hours of thinking and nutting things out – which mainly consisted of me trying to deal with my own childhood insecurities – I got hold of the canteen menu, and decided that every Friday he can go work out how to buy himself an icy pole for 40c.

Fingers crossed that it all goes well.

Every night, before I go to bed, I pop into my children’s bedrooms to check on them. I sit on their beds, in the dark, and watch them sleep.

Peaceful. Quiet. At their most natural. Bodies breathing. Faces like angels.

It’s one of the most beautiful moments of being a parent.

No matter how naughty, how rude, how indignant or disobedient they were that day – 2 minutes of watching them sleep brings everything into perspective. System restart.

I just want to scruff up their hair. Stroke their skin. Pinch their cheeks. Touch their eye lashes. Give them a little nudge to wake them up and tell them – hey, I made you! You’re like the most incredible thing in the whole world! I like you a LOT!

But of course, I don’t wake them up. I don’t tell them. I just sit and watch them.

My god, I love my children.

…

The other day, I was struck with a thought. I don’t ever want to forget what they look like when they are sleeping.

I have heaps of photos of them as sleeping newborns. And hundreds of photos of them awake, active and enjoying life at every age. But none of them sleeping, at this age.

So I crept into their rooms with my camera and took a few photos. It felt a bit strange. In fact, it was quite weird.

But I’m so glad I did it. I’m not going to share them, because they are just too … personal.

For me, and them.

But hey, I encourage you do the same. Tonight. As they sleep. To never forget.

With me being a bit down, and in desperate need of rest and sleep, my husband has been taking the boys out for some cafe culture.

Sean loves his babycinos and honey joys. He also likes making imaginary potions with the leftover tea and milk, and drawing alien ships in glossy magazines.

Here’s Sean looking particularly charming and cute as he strains tea. If you look closely, you might see a greenish-yellow bruise on Sean’s forehead, where he walked into a door frame the night before.

It doesn’t seem to have slowed him down at all!

This is Kenny Sia, one of my favourite bloggers in the whole world.

He is expert at making fun of himself, down to earth, does crazy things most people wouldn’t, and like a lot of funny guys - he has a heart of gold. I actually “worked” with Kenny when he helped with my own Red Cross Fund Raiser in Singapore in July 2008, and I found him to be a very genuine person.

Kenny is not too ugly right now, but he is soon to be much better looking -  because he will be shaving his head for charity. And I think that kind of generosity makes a man VERY attractive.

Right now, he is trying to raise quite a bit of money for a charity near his home in Malaysia that helps kids with cancer. The hospital asked him for help, and he said “Yes”.

So I am making my own donation … and I’d love it if you would help too!

I look at it this way… if we donate enough that Kenny reaches his target (he is half way there!) we all get to see him shave his head and look like a Bhuddist monk. And if he doesn’t, well … I’m sure Kenny will shave his head anyway, and we will still have made a big difference to some kids who are particularly in need. So this is a win-win situation. Fun and giving-all in one package.

You can make your donation at:

http://www.kennysia.com/gobald/

(I used the PayPal option) , as well as read about how Kenny got involved.

Go Kenny!

Both my boys have started school this week.

I was overwhelmed by a complicated mix of parental pride, adoration and shock.

Callum has started Year 1. He’ll be at school 5 days a week from 9am - 3pm. Watching him put on his brand new school uniform, huge broad brimmed hat, and being dwarfed by his school bag was a real treat.

He has a little desk with a book tray and a stationery caddy. He thinks it’s so cool that he has music lessons, physical education, German lessons, art and science classes. He tells me he loves Year 1 and wants to stay there forever.

I just can’t get over it! My son is in PRIMARY SCHOOL!

Sean has started Kindergarten, which is 2 days a week from 9am - 3pm. He is in the same kindergarten room which his big brother attended 2 years ago, so he was very familiar with the classroom routine.

He waltzed straight in, hung up his bag, dropped off his water bottle, tossed his fruit into the bowl, sat down, grabbed a puzzle, and didn’t look back. Other kids were sobbing and nervously clinging on to unsure parents - I remember being there - but this time, my son was one of the “confident ones”. I was so relieved and thrilled for him.

I took heaps of photos. Both of them standing by the front door, with their new bags and very big smiles.

This summer, my husband decided to let my sons watch Star Wars.

Deep down, I felt that my little babies were still too young to watch anything but animated cartoon movies – however I could tell my 5.5 year old desperately wanted to know more about Darth Vader, because the other boys talk about Star Wars at school.

So, in the space of two weeks, Callum and Sean have seen all SIX STAR WARS MOVIES. My husband had to sit with them, with the remote control, starting and stopping every 3 minutes to explain each and every thing. It would have drove me crazy, but my husband enjoyed it.

My 5.5 year old was absolutely fascinated by the story of how Anakin Skywalker became Darth Vader, enemy of his own son, Luke. He was drawn to the serious drama of the whole saga of human weakness, loss, betrayal and redemption. And he was very interested in the meaning of the colour of each character’s lightsaber and the powers of the Jedi.

My 3.5 year old, didn’t care about the story at all. He just LOVED that there were robots being cut up with lightsaber, and spaceships crashing into each other. The weird looking aliens were just a bonus!

So now starts the Star Wars obsession…

Every moment of the play, every story they tell, every drawing they draw, every toy they pick up, every character they pretend to be, is centred around Star Wars, Star Wars, STAR WARS!

Perhaps 12 months ago, this craze would have irritated every molecule in my wholesome, well-balanced, politically-correct, attitude towards parenting. I don’t like fighting. I don’t like guns and lightsabers. I don’t like wars.

But. I’m seeing the unexpected benefits to all this… and I like it.

I kid you not, my boys will run off and play by themselves for 2 HOURS at a time! They will sit in the lounge room, building Star Wars ships and re-enacting scenes and characters from the movie.

They will play wonderfully and passionately. They are the best of friends. They will tell stories, laugh, cooperate, use their imagination, solve problems, burst with creativity and originality. Together. No fighting. No screaming. No whinging.

Then when things start to slow down. I’ll throw them outside, where they will play Star Wars adventures for ANOTHER TWO WONDERFUL HOURS!

It’s perfect.

It’s like an instant childhood. Just add Star Wars.

Photo caption: Sean is obviously Darth Vader. I think Callum was trying to be Yoda.

The other day, I served up two plates of spaghetti bolognaise for my two sons.

My 3.5yo hungrily plunged his fork into the spaghetti sauce and held the huge glob of it over his head.

He loves to dangle the pasta noodles in the air, catch the ends with his mouth and slurp them up. But unfortunately the whole lot slid off his fork and onto his face.

I didn’t actually think the pasta was THAT hot. I was just going to laugh it off.

But my son screamed in pain. It was the kind of scream that made your spine tingle and believe that there was toxic acid burning the flesh off your child.

Without thinking, I leapt up, grabbed him around the belly, raced to the kitchen, and held his face under the running tap.

I threw open the freezer, snatched up a bag of frozen peas, pressed it onto his face, until he cried from behind a layer of ice.

A good time later, we inspected the damage. He had a small blister on the side of his face. In fact, from far, you couldn’t even see the blister.

Phew it looked fine. My beautiful baby wasn’t scarred for life.

Like I said, the pasta wasn’t very hot at all.

BUT.

By the morning, in his sleep, he had itched, peeled and scratched the blisters, skin and more, off his face! Argh. It all scabbed up in a gross bubbly and grated kind of way. It looked absolutely awful!!

He seriously looked like he had a fight with a wild animal!! Or like he was dragged across a road by his face.

Gah. Everywhere we went, I had to explain to EVERY SINGLE person, how I had been such a negligent mother. How I served acid hot pasta to my child. And how I threw it in his face.

And you should see the doubt flick across everyone’s face when I tried to say, “Really! It wasn’t that hot…”

Gotta love being a parent.

The other day I was walking along with my 3.5 year old son. We were holding hands and chatting about some random thing, when he asked, ever so sweetly,

“Hey mum. When does my real life start?”

“Uh. What do you mean?”

“My REAL LIFE. When does it start?”

I explained that he was going to Kindergarten in a few weeks. Then he’ll grow up a bit, be in Year 1, then Year 2. Soon he’ll be a teenager, then a young adult… and in fact, his REAL LIFE has already started. He’s living it RIGHT NOW!

“No no! I’m talking about the life where I get to make my own rules. THAT’S when real life starts! I want a real life and it’s taking too long…”

The poor kid prattled on and on along some long complicated 3-year-old-philosophical reasoning and I wondered how on earth I was going to get out of this one.

My 3.5yo son can now ride a bike without training wheels! He’s been riding a bike with trainer wheels for about a year before now. But now, he can balance it all by himself!

We didn’t really pushed the idea on him. We just waited until he showed some interest, and asked to ride “the wobbly bike” by himself. He did so well on his first go! Yeeps, I’m gushing with pride!

On reflection, as a parent, I actually believe these experiences are better the second time around.

Of course, his big brother did the same thing 2 years earlier. And of course I was gushing with pride then. But I distinctly remember being completely intoxicated and floored by the whole NEW-ness and FIRST-ness of the event. I was bubbling over with excitement and terror.

And after you’ve experience that feeling, I guess, there’s always that little speck of fear that these kind of childhood milestones might lose their charm after you’ve seen it once.

This time, with my second child, my perspective was much different.

This time, I was struck by how this achievement made my son feel. I saw how excited, confident and proud HE was.

The fact that he had done this “big boy thing” made him glow with inner strength. He knew he had conquered something difficult… and man, it made him feel good.

The joy was all over his face and it just made me fall in love with him all over again.

After my husband initiated a heap of outdoor, boy-projects for the kids, I really felt that I was missing out on connecting with my sons.

I read somewhere that by the age of 9, children should be able to prepare a meal for the whole family. Now I LIKE THAT IDEA. I like the idea of raising young men who can cook a 3 course meal by the age of 17.

So. I have set up a once-a-week session where I help my 5.5 year old son make dinner for the family. A meal of his choice.

Tonight he chose homemade hamburgers.

Beef Hamburger Patties

500g lean mince beef
1 medium brown onion, chopped
1 tablespoon of parsley
1 egg
1 tablespoon of plain flour
1 tablespoon of Worchester Sauce
salt and pepper

1. Use a food processor to chop onion, parsley and 1/3 portion of beef.
2. Throw processed mixture into a bowl, add rest of beef, egg, flour, sauce, good seasoning of salt and pepper.
3. Mush it up and mix well with your hands and fingers!
4. Divide mixture into 6 balls.
5. Cut out large squares of baking paper and press beef balls into patties, about 1.5 cm thick.
6. Wrap it up in cling wrap and put in fridge for 30 minutes.

7. Fry on a lightly oiled pan for a few minutes, until cooked.
8. Assemble hamburger!

Hamburger Makings

Round hamburger buns
Lettuce (from my garden!)
Tomatoes
Sliced onions
Avocado
Grated tasty cheese

My son did really well throughout the whole preparation and cooking process. He plucked and washed the lettuce. Cut up the avocado. Grated the cheese. Buttered the buns. He even fried the patties quite well.

I treated the whole session like I was just helping him out. So I didn’t have that tense STRESSFUL build up of patience and frustration inside me. It was more like I was trusting his ability and allowing him to grow up. I showed him how to do something, showed him how it might go wrong, give him a few safety tips, and just LET HIM DO IT.

As he was frying the patties. I was laughing to myself, thinking – You’d better get used to this buddy, when you’re 15, you’ll be flipping burgers to earn your pocket money.

They turned out really well! They were yummy and healthy!

A few weeks ago, my husband announced that my 5.5year old son needed a new bike. But of course, simply going out to buy one would be MUCH too boring. So he decided to MAKE A BIKE instead.

It just so happened that there was a garbage verge collection in the neighbourhood that week. So my husband and son went out into the streets, scavenging old bikes, bike parts, old wheels, wonky seats, broken frames, reflectors and pedals – anything they could get their hands on.

Night after night, they would come back late in the evenings, covered in dirt, oil, grime, mud and rain, with a wheel barrow full of treasure. They were like a pair of happy burglars. And the smiles on their dirty faces were priceless.

My son had the most amazing twinkle in his eyes, my god, it was magic.

Callum with the “funny broken bike” with no tyres.

So began the whole bike construction. Our outdoor area was littered with broken old bike frames and bike parts. It was hilarious.

My husband and his angle grinder.

The boys went crazy with BOY-NESS OVERLOAD – playing with dad’s tools, banging on the old bike frames, pretending to fix things and be “mechanics”. Oh they had such a good time.

The result was pretty cool I must say.

A part of me was afraid that my son would realise that his NEW BIKE was actually a rusted old frankenstein of a bike, which they put together from discarded junk…. then compare it with his friend’s shiny brand new SPIDERMAN or NINJA TURTLE Kmart bikes…. and that he might turn to his dad and go – Nup, it looks like crap, I don’t want it.

But he didn’t. In fact he LOVES it. He loved the process, the building, the tools, the chatting and spending time with dad, and the fact that they made it together.

They now have plans for the next stage – to take it apart, spray paint the frame, make stencils of my son’s name, add flames.

I don’t know much about the ideal boyhood, but I believe my sons are having a very good time.