A Deliberate Life

Further to previous posts on motherhood and life, check out this link.

A deliberate life is what I aspire to, although I have no intentions of disappearing into the woods just yet. Read the linked and you'll understand what I mean.

I won! I won!

The Myrtle and Eunice big tea towel giveaway! I won!

This talented and prolific lady has produced these wondrous, witty articles and I can't believe I am soon to have one in my possession. 

Thanks Myrtle and Eunice, you are, as always. the best!

Be Brave

The responses to my last post have got me thinking. I love them all but this one in particular I want to share. Thanks Lulu.

"Docile?! She's got to be kidding! It was once the norm to look after your own kids. Nowadays, it's only for the brave. Women's Lib was all about giving women equal status, but in real terms all they did was give them more work to do. Jobs AND parenting. And social security for women post childraising disappeared, which means when the kids are grown and the husband dies or leaves, the women are forced to scrounge a living somehow. I admire women who raise their own children. To do it properly takes a lot of time and effort. And hats off to the men who make it possible for them."

The real subject of my last post has been on my mind a lot since becoming a mother:

the struggle of women in motherhood - the struggle to find your spot as a mother and sit comfortably in it.

The comments in my last post, I believe, emanate from a pervading and intense dissatisfaction with motherhood that worries and saddens me often.

In response, I considered writing an ' In Defence of Motherhood' essay stating the pros and cons of stay-at-home motherhood and the pros and cons of being a working mother, in order to encourage women to make a choice and be happy in it. But a more superfluous document I could not conceive of, in the end.

But this is what I want to say.

After hundreds, maybe thousands of conversations with and observations of mothers in all situations, this is what I have found. This is the truth as I see it:

If mama ain't happy, nobody's happy.

I think that finding your own comfortable spot as a mother, what ever that may be, is not only your right but is actually your obligation. If you are wallowing in dissatisfaction, if you are not actively working towards your own satisfaction, it impacts enormously on those you love the most.

Perhaps your responsibility is to find a choice and make it. The right choice for you, for now. Because if what you need is to stay-at-home with your kids then do it, accepting that you will struggle with all the difficulties and demands that go along with it and you will celebrate the joys. Or if you need to work to receive affirmation, adult company, achievement, career, contribute to the working world, then do it, do it, do it. Or if you want to do a bit of both - sista, go straight ahead. I am not saying that the odd whinge isn't well warranted either way, but, couldn't you celebrate the privilege of your choice and position rather than disparage and despise it.

Feminism has given us choice. Wealth has given us choice. Let' s not fool ourselves, this is a wealthy and middle class dilemma. Most women are without choice.

And then there are the mums who don't stop to consider their choices. I see them roll along the path of 'how they think it has to be' when, in reality, choices and opportunities abound and I watch the dissatisfaction creeping in.

Follow your instincts. You do know what the right choice is for you.

Time passes. Your choices will change. Your circumstances will change. The children will grow and you will wonder why you spent their early years locked in battle with guilt, boredom or absence. Your children may not remember that you went to work every day or that you spent every day 'being there' with them, engaging them in educational and developmental activities and feeding them wholesome organic food, but they will remember how you were.

Motherhood requires 'presence' and dissatisfaction robs you of presence. Physical presence is not the issue here. Its about sitting present and comfortable in the moments you are with your children and partner, not wishing you were somewhere and someone else.

Motherhood is a struggle. Couldn't we consider loving the struggle? Celebrating it in all its forms and styles? Supporting our own choice and encouraging our partners and families to support it too, purely on the basis that it is the right choice for us and us alone. Couldn't we acknowledge what a great job it is? What a hard-ass, 24/7, domestic-tasks-nightmare, glorious, nurturing, family and community building, challenging, endless, awesome job it is and how bloody good we all are at it most of the time, working mothers or stayers-at-home!

And Lulu is so right, hats off to those partners who give support to a mother's choices. Their support is essential.

So Mama get happy. Get intellectual, get docile, get working, get out, what ever, but get happy. Because you can. Your choice is the right one for you and for your family. Enjoy the struggle while it lasts. One day it will be only a faded memory.

Stay-at-home Mum

A friend , a mother herself, declared to me the other day that it was obviously only 'docile' women who were not 'intellectual' who could handle being stay-at-home mums.

No bloody respect, people.

Awake!

"When the women awaken ... mountains move" 

- Chinese proverb

Niche is Hot

Niche. Hot or not?

Hot. Definitely Hot.

Niche is a handmade market going on at the Academy Gallery at Inveresk in ol' Launny town this weekend and it is certainly worth a look.

I would like to have taken a stylish pic of all the goodies I bought this morning to embellish this post but then everyone will know what I bought them for Christmas.

Let me just say, "Get down there, Ladies." 

Not only is there a whole lot of beeeee-yew-tifull handmade stuff but the peeps behind the stalls are stellar. (Do you like the way I said " peeps' then, just like I am down with the young people?)

My faves, of course:

• Gemstar, or Loz and Dinny - Gem your eye for style is bang on, baby. 
• Isis - beautiful, thoughtful, hand bound books. Isis uses Coptic binding, vintage book covers and handamde paper.
• Annie at Red Bamboo - soaps and candles to die for. Annie has mastered the delicious art of combining scents. 
• Black Eyed Susie - stunning handmade kidswear. Suse has the knack of choosing the perfect fabric and turning into a cracking little number every time. Her little boys stripey trousers are killing me. 
• Franrosie and The Ruby Pear - is the essence of organic style as always,
• Little Jenny Wren -  What can I say about Jenny's amazing work? Only that I can't wait for Sophie to be old enough tto have one. 
• Hungry Kitty - I had one of her carrot cakes for breakfast and I am wishing I had bought some more for right now. I think Gemstar was right on when she said "You can't leave without at least one box of her rocky road. It's got Maltesers in it." The Maltesers are a stroke of genius!

And many more that I am going back to investigate closer sans small ones attached to my legs. 

I had a really ace morning. Thanks Ladies!

Response

Don't you think that to wrap someone up in a blanket is such a considerate and generous act of kindness?

D, in answer to this question that I posed in my last post, commented "Yes, why do you mention that?"

And I want to post my response: 

D,

I mention it, my friend, because I am surrounded by these wrapped moments - 

at the end of every yoga class that you lead me through you wrap me in a blanket, 

I often see my mother wrap my two year old daughter in her 'blanky' like an oversized newborn and hold her tight, just as once she held me, and as I held and hold all my children,

as I lay moaning and whining with cramping innards a few weeks ago my own 8 year old son saw me and of his own accord wrapped me with all the consideration and empathy of any sweet mother, 

every night I wrap my children in their beds, sing to them and send them off to sleep and dreams, 

and when our recent lost came in from the cold, it was the only act that made any sense to me, wrap him.

I mention it because it embodies a state that I seek -  presence.

Because it says " I see you. I know you. I will comfort you. I am here for you."

I mention it because, in my mind, presence is the essence of mothering and wrapping a true selfless act of love.

I mention it because I see friends, women, wives so lost and bamboozled by the 'performance' of motherhood, sisterhood, wife, worker, consumer, maker, and on and on, that they have stopped seeing these simple but overwhelming gifts that they both give and receive,  so intent on the grandiose gesture, the smallest most poignant gifts go unnoticed. 

That now I can sit still enough to notice how full my life is of these wrapped moments is an unfathomable blessing. 

Thank you for wrapping me D, every time it fills me up. 

GG

Rapt

Don't you think that to wrap someone up in a blanket is such a considerate and generous act of kindness?

1972

I just googled my birthday and discovered that on the 20th November 1972 the Time Magazine cover showed Richard Nixon holding up the victory sign with the headline "Landslide, Prospects for the second term". 

A movie released that day was a British version of" Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" starring Michael Crawford, Peter Sellers and Dudley Moore. 

I think I was actually born into that story As the youngest of seven children, I definitely remember growing up with at least one white rabbit, definitely more than one Mad Hatter, endless packs of cards and being scolded by the Queen of Hearts and I am quite certain that my elder brothers often smoked stuff they shouldn't have in the 1970s. 

However I was not Alice.  My elder sister was known to have so vividly dream the 'Alice' scene where she grows and shrinks that she loudly and vocally re-enacted the whole thing in her sleep for our entertainment. She must have been Alice. 

The sleepy mouse might have been me. I wonder if Dudley Moore was the sleepy mouse? I would've wanted to be Peter Sellers but am definitely more Dudley Moore. 

 

I like that Richard Nixon and Alice in Wonderland were significant on my birthday. It reminds me that you can never be sure of what will happen next.

Assistance, s'il vous plait?

So we are going on a Smith family adventure to la belle France, as I might have boasted previously, and I need to plan the trip. We are pretty much overseas travel virgins and so require un peu d'assistance.  Does anyone have any tips about finding self-contained/self-catering accommodation in France -Paris, Biarrtiz, Provence? Cheap places to stay in Paris? Good places to take kids in France? 

Anything? 

All suggestions would be most gratefully received.

I am still pinching myself a wee bit that I am even required to ask these questions. Woohoo!

Confused ...

Today my daughter declared " My nuts are hurting!"

Between that and her belief that she can pee standing up from her belly-button, I fear she may be a little confused.

Heart and Home

My daughter turns two today.



Happy birthday to you, Soph!



You have made my good life even better.



And for your birthday, my gift to you, is a happy home.

Lost

For a little while I thought I'd lost something this week.

I was heartbroken.

It is something pretty precious and rare. Not the sort of thing you want to go missing. It's one of those things that you don't see every day, in fact, it's not even close by all the time, but it's vitally important to me and to most people I know that it is not..., well,... lost.

And just when I started to think that it might gone forever, it came back.

Oh, my heart ...

We found it. It's a little beaten and broken up, but its found and that's all that matters.


Hold that which you love dear and close.
Don't wait till something is lost to realise how much you loved it.
And to all those that I know and love, please never doubt that your very existence blesses me and everyone around you.

For if you were to be lost, we would all be heartbroken.

Fringe, sounds almost exactly like ...

The Craft Star's mustard fringe challenge and I managed a lampshade.  The glue is still all over my fingers, but at least the shade itself didn't end up adhered to my personage. It's finished and this baby is going 'straight to the pool room'.

I often read blogs that are quite profound and insightful, or are simply beautiful, or describe a life or display a talent that us mortals could only dream of, and all I can think to say about this is that 'fringe' rhymes with one of my favourite rude words.

Mrs Smith you are  neither funny nor sophisticated.

Whose da man!

Yesterday, my J told me:

" Mum, Dad may be A man, but you are THE man."

What can I say? The kid is insightful beyond his years.

NOT a cushion

Mrs Smith branches out ... the Brisvegas tote bag. Denim and natty op shop bought blue stripey innards.  What fun!

Warmer days

The sun has started to make brief appearances over the island. The rain has ceased to be an everyday occurrence. Don't the warmer days make a difference to your psyche?

Bring on those long summer days. It's school hols on the island and so much more fun is had if the sun is out.

Today we ventured out for a visit to Granny's and a play in the park. After that we were happy to come home and relax for the arvo.  While the sun shone, la principessa slept and the lads entertained themselves, the crafting spirit took me and these cushions were the result. 

I turned a watermelon pink op shop jumper into this 

and then a lovely Aunty Shazza panel into this, backed with a choice bit of stripey action purchased at Meet Me at Mike's when last in the big smoke

Now I have to explain to the luthier why he will come home and there is no dinner on the go. Do you reckon he'll go for "I was possessed by the crafting goddess?"  

Aaaaaaw!

My J made this sign for my market stall. What a doll!

To market

What a grand day out!
There was much laughter and gas-baggery with the lovely-scented Annie and the Craft Star and lots of friends came to visit and hang about. I met a few lovely people and fondled some great handmade treasures.

Mrs Smith even sold a few things and not only to blood relatives! (Thanks Mum!) Lovely darts!

Debut

Dun, da da da, dun , dun,  dun, daaaah!

Tomorrow Mrs Smith will be making her market debut. Here are some of the wares she'll be peddling.  There will be loads of fabulous handmade stuff from all over the island. Red Bamboo's luscious candles, unguents and lotions will be set up with me.  G the Craft Star will be shining her light and many more. Come on down and say "Hi!".

These natty wristband pincushions are fashioned from vintage tea towels and some funky retro fabric.



A case of cushions but a sample of what will be on offer.

I am nervous and excited. Wish me luck!

Spring and Cake

It finally feels like Spring on the island. The depressingly, endless grey and rain has cleared and the sun  is out. Even these droopy  daffs are making me smile.

And Grimace was made cake. (Apologies for the upside down photo.) 

This kid is my kind of kid ...

My second son is 4 today. 4!  Can you believe it?

This morning the luthier wished him happy birthday and said: "I can't believe you made it to 4." It was exactly what I was thinking. He has survived so many things including the infamous rat incident without conracting the bubonic plague or drinking foetid water from a fountain without contracting cholera or something similar.  He has survived these and a thousand other potentially mortal activities including shoving so much food in his mouth he has nearly choked countless times and having tantrums so impressive I thought his head might actually explode and busting my onions so badly that I considered strangling him myself. Sacha is a blessed survivor. 

He had to be induced into the world, my second son, and his birth story was suitably dramatic - in a B-grade shlock horror style rather than a life-threatening way . However when he was 6 weeks old we had a few truly scary moments where we didn't think he would make it to 1. He had cancer that eventually went into spontaneous remission without treatment. An experience which makes me hug him just that little bit tighter, especially on his birthday.

On his second birthday he declared " I am 2 now Mummy, and 2 is enough." 

"Perhaps enough biscuits", I thought "but not nearly enough birthdays."

I find it hard to describe my little lad. He sees the world and approaches the adventure of life in his own unique, independent and strong way. When in Melbourne earlier this year Sacha talked his Aunt into taking him on a 7 stop train journey, just for the hell of it. By chance, they ended up in Balaclava where they alighted for nothing less than a Bacon bagel right in the heart of the bagel belt. A bacon bagel! - for some reason this kind of sums the boy up for me - he's quietly ready for adventure and always comes back with something unexpected.  He looks at the world sideways. 

And now he is 4 and a constant, amazing, extraordinary surprise and  joy.

Life is good.

Happy Birthday Sacha!

C is also for Cushion, that's good enough for me!

I made this cushion this afternoon while my poorly, wee daughter slept.(She has mouth ulcers and is teething. Poor little love.)

The cushion is made from an old linen tea towel with a cord panel on the front and some beautiful cotton found in an op-shop on the back. It's big, fruity and light. This baby is going to be part of my stock for the inaugural Mrs Smith stall at the Civic Homespun Market on the 12th September. I am sharing a stall with the wonderful Annie from Red Bamboo and her beautiful candles and unguents. Come and see us and say " Hi!", if you are in town. Loz and Dinny will be there too. It'll be a hoot!






And this is the view from my bedroom window today. I do so love the magnolias.

Oh ... and we have sorted out some cash for the family trip to France. No departure date confirmed yet, but we are getting there.

Grimace

The smallest boy in our house is very fond of frogs. He wants a frog cake for his birthday. Actually he is intrigued by all sort of animals including chillalas (koalas), wombats and particularly thorny devils, of course.  Last time we were walking in the bush he warned us to be careful not to tread on any baby chillalas that had fallen out of the trees onto the ground. He assures us that death by 'treading' is quite at the heart of the plight of the baby chillala, so please take care.

My interesting little man has even invented some creatures and can weave a fascinating tale of their adventures. You may not know this, but apparently, sometimes, when sitting down to dinner, it is absolutely impossible to eat as all your focus is required in keeping an eye out for 'pompigs' and 'bonkins'. 

In case you are not as familiar with these creatures as my lad, I shall describe them to you on his behalf. He tells me that pompigs fly, but they are certainly  NOT like fairies, they live in trees and hide in the leaves.  Bonkins, are not rampant rooting beasts as their name may suggest. (The boy has arrived at this name via other means than my own love for the crass double entendre.) As I understand it, the bonkin is very similar to the pompig, however flightless, larger and they inhabit quite different trees.  An interesting fact about both critters is that they go to the shops and buy milk, which they keep in their fridges in the trees. 

Unfortunately, both the pompigs and the bonkins  are plagued by their only known predator ... dun, dun dun ... the coronados. Coronados (koh-roh-nar-doss) are relentless consumers of both pompigs and bonkins. Nasty coronados! The coronados is a white scavenging bird. You may be more familiar with both their common name, the 'seagull' and their diet of stolen chips dropped near park benches and the like. 

The little lad's most recent animal adventure occurred in our very own back yard. I was pruning and weeding - as I am want to do on random occasions, when I heard the guy call out " Look Mum, I have found an animal." Surprised, I turned to see him proudly clutching a dead rat around the middle. I reacted with my usual calmness and complete control in any anxious moment (ahem...), squealed and cried "Drop it, it's dead!" grabbed the boy by the hand and dragged him inside to be thoroughly disinfected while the boy repeated " Mum it wasn't dead, it was just sleeping."

Needless to say, the savings fund has commenced for his therapy and mine after this exciting incident. But happily it has not impacted on my lovely guy's interest in animals in general. 

Grimace the frog (above) was made at Brown Owls the other night for the small boy's 4th birthday invitation. It is a little bit of a weird image for a 4 year old birthday invite, but he is quite fond of a little weirdness. 

Dojo Sista

" Aikido! Hiiiiiiiiiiiiya! Sign me up, Mumsy!"

C is for...

I am a big one for commitment, well now that I am old and in my thirties I am. In my early twenties, the 'c' word was not high on my agenda., ahem, but let's not talk about that.

Now I am old and wise and can see the benefit of commitment. The joy and strength that comes with staying. 

I am now making a new commitment, one entirely to myself - to follow my own fancies, to make stuff, to make stuff with other people who are super-fantastic friends and makers.  I was going to say its a commitment to 'craft' but I am not sure that is true. It is all about following my own creative whims and fancies  to see where they lead me. 

It's exciting. 

A friend of mine asked me via Skype the other day (how contemporary!) - "Art is amazing isn't it? Why do we even bother with the other crap?"

"An excellent question", I thought.

The bigger the cushion the sweeter the ...

I am happy with these babies. But what do you reckon?

Weirdly, it was this little baby that made me the happiest of all. I cannot explain why I love it so,  but its small and stripey and I like it.

Waiting

Waiting, waiting, waiting ...

Patience is not one of my strengths. 

We are edging ever closer to a whole family trip to France - the luthier got the fellowship, we are accessing funds for the rest of us to go, it is all looking tantalisingly real.  Now we wait for confirmation from France. We have no dates for our trip and can't plan anything. We can only wait.

Frustration is really creeping in. However I am attempting to adopt the new mantra "Let go, stop pushing, all will come together in its own sweet time."

Hmmmm ...

I am also trying to take my mind off it by focusing on a wee bit o' cushion making. The ever-wondrous Mrs B made the first Mrs Smith sales for me on the weekend. Unfortunately, I didn't take pics of the pair of cushions sold, but they came from on old souvenir 'Tasmania' tablecloth, and turned out pretty neatly in the end. 

There has been much scouring of the local op shops for nifty bits and pieces, with some success. Excuse the poor photo- photobooth is all there is until the Luthier brings the camera home.

Tea Towel -arama

Suzie Stanford's Tea Towel chairs. 

Mon Dieu!

Paris  Made By Hand

Welcome to the Machine Age!

I am now a real woman! A sewing machine virgin no longer.  No more old skool hand sewing of, well, everything I make. I can jump on a Janome and whizz up a side seam with the best of them.

These two cushions in two hours. A Mrs Smith record.

Thanks for the intervention Mrs B and Eve Craft Princess! It's a brave new world that you have opened up to me now.  And thanks for finding the grouse tea towel Mrs B.  Thanks Aunty Shazza for the cookie pie. What an ace design!

I love the friendships I have developed through craft. 

Saturday afternoon  I sat in the beautiful home of Mrs B, as the divine ladies of the coven convened for our sewing machine session. There was a machine for each of us on the table amongst the scissors and off cuts, ribbon and that mustard fringe that we all think might have potential but no one quite knows what to do with it and a bowl of jaffas. We drank exotic tea that came, not contained in any common tea bag - but held inside an 'infusion pod' (I shit you not!) We shared much encouragement and learnin', swearing and laughing, sewing and admiring and whirring with ideas.  I sat in that warm kitchen on that wet afternoon feeling truly blessed.

Truly blessed. 

Tops!

How good was Masterchef?

Julie really pulled it off and gave hope to the rest of us messy and disorganized cooks that while we may work up a sweat and create chaos, it's all about how it tastes in the end.

Mind you I don't think I've ever worked up quite THAT much sweat in the kitchen,

Nice work, love.

Media Ho!

Look at craft getting some press in the local rag (The Saturday Examiner July 11 2009 p35-37). I was just a tag-along to the real crafty ladies being interviewed - Mrs B, Eve Craft Princess, Little Jenny Wren, the Seworld ladies and Black-Eyed Susie. 

My crochet-in-progress has come up a treat in the pic, don't you think?  I am quite proud of it, even though it remains unfinished. You look beautiful, Mrs B.  and the vinyl is ace! 

Brown Owls Launceston is getting bigger by the day. I can feel the momentum growing and can't wait to get into it again. We opted for a late July meeting and it feels like its been a very long time between drinks, so to speak. Note to self - no more than 4 weeks between crafty meetings or withdrawal symptoms are likely. 

The luthier was on the radio last week and in the Saturday paper. 

Us Smith's are such media ho's.

She's alright ..

This is a true story, at least as I remember it. It's a story I have often told after a few sherberts at a dinner party and the like, so I thought, what the hell, I'll share it with you. It may amuse.

The following details a conversation witnessed by me, the man who is now my husband (who can bear witness to the truth of the tale) and a few of my political science/women's studies student mates, in a cold, old uni share house in Battery Point, Hobart in the mid 90's.

The conversation occurred between Protagonist A and B, lets call them Cags and Donny-  two laconic, slow-talkin' rural boys from the midlands of Tasmania, complete with navy jumpers, chambray shirts with the collars turned up, jeans (one of the boys is inexplicably wearing a pair of women's 501's) and R.M. Williams boots. Both boys are freshly returned from separate trips abroad. You know the sort of thing - the young person's 'rites of passage' style journey through Europe and the USA - complete with Kontiki tours and the like.  

This conversation was the mutual summing up of the cultural journey and personal growth they experienced on their trip. Warning: It does contain swearing, and please be aware that the views expressed below are those of the protagonists and certainly not those of the blog author. 

Cags - Did you go to America? 

Donny - Yep.

Cags - Did you go to Universal Studios?

Donny - Yep ... ( long pause) 

It was fucked.

Cags -  Naaah, I loiked it.

Donny  - Naaah, it was fucked.

Cags - Naah I loiked it. 

Donny - Naah, it was fucked.

Cags - Yeah, it was fucked ...

(pause)

but I loiked it.

 (They pause to regroup.) 

Cags - Did you go to Europe?

Donny - Yeah. It was fucked. (He scoffs and goes on) If you wanna go somewhere f'ken borin', go to the Louvre.

Cags - What about Paris? Did you loike Paris?

Donny - Paris smells like human piss. Actually, the whole of Europe smells like human piss.

(long pause) 

Except Greece  ... she's alright Greece.

My Fellow

My clever fella has won a Churchill Fellowship. He'll be off for 6 or so weeks to various parts of France to learn the traditional art of French bow making. How good does that sound!?

I am not sure whether the kids and I will be joining him. I am just off now to buy my lotto ticket, so I'll let you know tomorrow.

Granny Square

With much patience from Lynne, who so kindly instructed me in the fine art of the granny square, I achieved this little start at Brown Owls on Monday night.  I seem to have developed my own novice technique of half-knitting, half-crochet technique ('critting' perhaps or 'knochet') by winding the wool around the hook with my right hand - knitting style! 

See ... with craft, you never quite know what's going to happen!

Thanks Lynne!

Hooters Out!!

Brown Owls was mint!

It was all the crafty caring and sharing love that I had hoped for. I hope all the other owls loved it as much as I did. The smile on D's face says it all. And look how fast Eve crochets- her face is a blur!

Check out the official Brown Owls Members Post.

Thanks Gem and Eve. Thanks Gabbi. Thanks Launny Owls. Looking forward to the next one.

Heide

I love Heide. Our visit to the Modernism exhibition and lunch in the gardens with this guy and some other beautiful sculpture was my favourite outing of our recent trip to Melbourne.

 Aaah the serenity ..

imagine

I could not have said this better myself: 

"Imagine that the key to happiness is following your own intuition instead of other people's opinions and advice." 

From "The Happiest Book" by Alex Ostrowski 

Amen to that.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-6zXL4XyuY

The Queen of Hearts

Happy Birthday Miss. B

Mini quilt for the beloved Edie. Hand stitched with love. Thought I best put something craftesque up before you think I am completely full of it - on the craft front.

Sophie

Mother's Day Love

Cards from me kids.

Noice, doncha reckon?

Sacha's reads at the bottom: 

I love my Mum because she packs up my toys and my lunch.

Pity the bad photo does not adequately reveal the valiant attempt at writing his name. The 'S' and 'h' are superb. If you look very closely I am sure you will see it.

J's is pretty tops, it has a natty flip up feature on the front but I particularly like the drawing of us in the centre. 

Oh and Me, Sacha and Kung Fu panda below. My mother's day lavender bag is on the table behind me, next to the wipes. I am becoming such a nanna, a lavender bag gift was a perfect gift. It will go straight to me top drawer to scent my unfeasibly large knickers with 'eau de nanna'. Saucy!