| An Autumn Holiday |

We took the boys on a mini holiday over ANZAC weekend.

We spent a day in Queenstown, watching boats, climbing trees, and buying wine.

We did our first whole-family walk up Mt Iron (the littlest one made it all the way to the top; the biggest faceplanted onto a rock and is now sporting an impressive black eye), scootered alongside Lake Wanaka, and climbed things we thought we couldn’t climb.

We recharged our batteries, ignored much of the outside world, enjoyed the autumn sunshine, and returned home feeling rather relaxed.

It was blissful.



Boys at Play

My boys are both blessed with vivid imaginations, and love nothing better than a bit of role play. Sometimes this involves their Lego or Duplo creations; at other times, the cushions off the couches. They play so nicely together (most of the time), and it warms my heart to hear them make believe so beautifully (most of the time).

I love that they are both so free with it…..yet I struggle with the type of games they play.

Everything is about fighting, guns, baddies, guns, jail, guns, shooting things……guns, did I mention guns???

I know that this is normal play for boys (and some girls), and I know that I should be relieved they are playing together and developing good imaginative skills, but I often find myself pleading, “Can you please stop pretending that’s a gun? Can you please play a gentler game? Why do you always have to shoot things???”

Boys at PlayI guess I just wish that their games weren’t always so loud, so violent (in subject, not physically – they are actually very considerate of each other), in such contrast to their gentle, sweet natures. They are loving and kind, compassionate and cuddly boys, yet you wouldn’t know it, watching and listening to them.

Maybe it’s a fundamental difference in wiring between girls and boys, because Tall isn’t bothered by it at all, and is happy to play along, while I’m cringing in the other room.

Mothers Day 2015Oh, I’ve tried to join in, I’ve tried to laugh at being put in jail (my cushions are always, always on the floor), I’ve tried to be a good bad guy….but I really wish that sometimes, just sometimes, they would be firefighters extinguishing a house, or spacemen blasting off into the universe, or chefs cooking up a storm at the play kitchen.

But then that would be my imaginary play, not theirs, so maybe I just need to suck it up and hope that this is a passing phase…or accept that this is the way life with boys will be.

Hold me.