This set me to thinking about the experiences children deserve. So I compiled a list of the 100 things I believe children* should experience before they depart childhood.  They are in no particular order and it is impossible for the list to be finite. Many of the experiences should definitely be carried through into adulthood.  After all, I’m still trying to perfect the perfect handstand….

1. Give or receive a hug every day
2. Climb a tree
3. Fall out of a tree
4. Catch a fish
5. Swim with fish
6. Do something kind with no expectation of recognition or reward
7. Start a found collection
8. Keep a journal
9. Boil an egg and eat it before the age of 10
10. Drink out of a hose, preferably wearing nothing other than a pair of knickers
11. Eat some soil
12. Walk a dog
13. Create something with sticks, cardboard and sticky tape
14. Lie on the ground and watch the clouds
15. Be thrilled during a thunderstorm
16. Catch rain on their tongue
17. Experience triumph
18. Blow a bubble gum bubble as big as their head
19. Make jelly
20. Visit a zoo
21. 21. Do nothing
22. Be pushed in a swing
23. Learn how to swing themselves
24. Pick flowers
25. Require a bandaid once a month
26. Devise their own superhero
27. Watch a spider in its web
28. Complete a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle
29. Make their own bed (regularly)
30. Form a special attachment with someone at least 50 years older than themselves
31. Spend 3 consecutive days in their pyjamas
32. Watch a really scary movie without parental guidance
33. Pop a pimple
34. Ride a bike
35. Play with snow
36. Get sun-kissed
37. Bite their fingernails and regret it
38. Be bewildered but secretly thrilled by their first wet dream
39. Experience disappointment
40. Listen to a thrush sing
41. Make a cake from scratch
42. Enjoy the discovery that their parents are people, not just their carers
43. Hate their first period (but be relaxed and happy about the commencement of their journey into womanhood)
44. Watch several sunrises
45. Go bird watching
46. Wonder at a full moon
47. Walk barefoot on wet grass
48. Step on a prickle
49. 49. Do nothing
50. Take public transport somewhere by themselves before the age of 12
51. Walk to school
52. Wonder at a butterfly
53. Kiss their first true love
54. Mow a lawn
55. Fart with relish and not confess
56. Take a photo of something cherished
57. Confound their parent with something related to technology
58. 58. Unplug
59. Understand the value of unstructured play
60. Use the cardboard box, rather than its contents to create a masterpiece
61. Love and laugh often
62. Climb a hill and enjoy the view
63. Ride a horse bareback
64. Grow their own vegetables and herbs
65. Show compassion
66. Write a letter to someone
67. Build a cubby house
68. Find a secret hiding place
69. Sing and shout out loud
70. Play an instrument.  Whether this is done well or badly is irrelevant
71. Chase a rainbow
72. Relish creativity
73. Swim in a river
74. Make their own book
75. Get dirty and stay that way all day
76. Try various cuisines from around the world
77. Perfect handstands and cartwheels
78. Make mud pies
79. 79. Do nothing
80. Jump off a jetty
81. Go ice-skating
82. Do a self-portrait
83. Blow bubbles
84. Paint with a hose
85. Score (or save) a goal at some form of sport
86. Go to a church service of their choice
87. Toast marshmallows
88. Experience the fallibility of their parents
89. Blow a raspberry
90. Go camping
91. Make a family tree
92. Learn how to count to 10 in 10 different languages
93. Hold a snake
94. Blow an egg
95. Paint with their fingers
96. Pick their nose, eat it and decide that doing so is daft
97. Have (and keep into adulthood) a favourite toy
98. Keep a pet
99. Read books
100. 100. Do nothing

What would you add to this list?

* For the purposes of this post, I’ve defined childhood as 0-16.

Sadly, I think the former view is winning out, but they are smart enough to realise that pretending to believe ensures that his gifts will continue for a few more years yet.  And sweetly, they also don’t want to upset me, as I’m a big believer in the magic that comes with the traditions of Christmas.  Their uncertainty led us to discuss those festive traditions we would never want to be without.  Here’s the list they came up with.

• Give what we can afford to a charity to help those who aren’t as fortunate as us.  This year we’re supporting the Salvation Army.
• Sleep in.  Do nothing and enjoy it.
• Make something handmade for Grandma.  This year it’s pot pourri.
• Get sun-kissed (not sunburnt) by exploring Sydney’s beaches.  We try to swim at a different beach every other day.  Our favourite?  Bilgola.
• Unplug and stay that way for most of the holidays.
• Spend time with family and friends.
• Bake a ham and spend the next few weeks eating it with every meal until we’re sick to death of it.
• Go to a Church service and enjoy singing the Carols.
• Make a Christmas cake from scratch.

This last one is where I normally come undone.  I’m always frantic (as are most of us) in the run up to Christmas.  Too much to do and too little time.  Wrapping gifts, hiding gifts, putting up trees, booking pets into holiday care, writing and sending cards and gifts, attending a million end of year school & work functions and so on and so on.  I often find myself leaving the cake until the last minute and have been known to bake at midnight whilst hiding gifts.  So imagine my delight (no pun intended) when I discovered that one of our favourite stores, Baker’s Delight is now selling Christmas Cakes.  They come in a sturdy tin and truly are delicious.  In fact they remind me of my grandmother’s version, which is saying something.  I contacted Baker’s Delight to congratulate them and they were so chuffed, they’ve given me two vouchers valued at $20 each to give away to readers of my blog.  How lovely is that?  Given their reasonable prices, that’ll buy a good selection of their Christmas products** and maybe even a few loaves of bread.  The vouchers will go to the two people who can add to my list, those festive traditions one simply shouldn’t do without.  Winners will be drawn randomly, out of a hat, by my 8 year old daughter on Monday 19 December.

Whatever the festive season means to you, I hope it’s peaceful and full of fun.  Oh, by the way, my daughter is still insisting on leaving beer and biscuits out for Father Christmas and carrots and grass for the reindeer.  Maybe, just maybe, she’s a true believer after all. x

**They are also selling yummy mince pies and lemon tarts over the festive period.

Preparing lunch with Grandma

I credit my mother for instilling in me a love of food and a passion for experimentation in the kitchen.  She is a great cook and always insisted that we try the dishes she prepared at least three times (big mouthfuls, not just nibbles).  On the whole it was a positive experience as she had the knack of making the new tastes tempting, exotic -mysterious even.  She always involved us in the process of cooking, explaining as we went, where the food came from, why the flavours would complement each other and how, on the whole fresh is always best. So much so that in the end we couldn’t help but want to try whatever it was she put in front of us.  Although I do remember a gruesome experience with Pickled Pork and a further disaster tasting Tripe in Tomato Sauce (both of which I now adore).

So to my mind, Mum was right.  Involvement, persistence and creativity are key when attempting to expand your children’s palates.  The upside of doing so?  Your children will quickly learn about the depth and breadth of the world’s cuisines – which can lead to lovely conversations about cultural diversity and tolerance and love of difference.  They will also garner a knowledge of agriculture, food production and sources and the need to think sustainably whenever possible.  It will almost certainly lead them to being comfortable in the kitchen.

My tips and ideas for introducing new flavours and cuisines?

• Go slowly but persistence is key.
• If you’re not a confident cook, consider a couple of basic cooking classes with your children.
• If it doesn’t work first time, that’s cool.  Give it a break and try again another time.
• Make it fun.  Invite their friends over and encourage them to cook together.
• Use garnishes as a way of making the meals look appealing and quirky. We use edible flowers a lot.
• Chat about the ingredients.  How many are the same? How many are different?
• Consider dressing up in the national costume of the country of the chosen cuisine.  Don a kilt and make a Haggis!  Or a find a kimono and give Sushi a go.
• Get out the atlas while cooking and chat about which country the recipe hails from and how it differs from your own.
• Involve your children as much as possible at every stage of the process.
• Encourage talk about the senses – smell, taste, touch, sight and sound – how are they different?  How are they the same?
• Have them devise their own recipes – their creativity will amaze you.  You could suggest they invent their own country and an accompanying cuisine.
• Every now and then treat them to a night out at the local Thai, Indian, Vietnamese, Japanese, Korean, Italian, Greek, Chinese etc, etc.
  

  Tasting Vietnamese Pho for the first time

• But most of all, enjoy the process.  If it doesn’t feel right or becomes stressful, cook their favourite meal (in my home that’s schnitzel and mashed spuds *sigh*) and tackle the world’s cuisines another day.

Last year Mum visited the stunning Ginja Cooking School on the beach front in Phuket, Thailand. I was incredibly envious and had to make do with her gift of a small but inspirational recipe book.  My children and I have since been working our way through it.

Thai flavours can be challenging for children (not used to having them on a regular basis).  Cries of “it’s too spicy” or “there are sticks and leaves in my dinner” were commonplace when we first started out.  But the thrill of being let loose with a mortar and pestle, pounding along with chopping and peeling, and the planting, growing and harvesting of our own asian herbs quickly won them over.

Over at our blog dedicated to food, No Fuss Food, you’ll find the latest meal the kids and I prepared.  We were inspired to give it a go after finding that the lemongrass in our garden had gone ballistic. It’s the delicious and very popular Thai dish – Tom Yum Goong.  It’s much easier than it might appear.  We promise.

We began to listen* to the sounds of sunrise.

It began with a single bird call, an Australian magpie; his beautiful song always enchanting. He was followed not long after by a Pied Currawong, an indignant Grey Butcherbird and a Common Myna.  You can listen to their songs here.   My son and I wondered how we normally manage to sleep through such a stunning chorus of birdsong.

As Sydney yawned and stretched, more noises became apparent.  First the sound of a motorbike, roaring up a distant road.  The newspaper van soon came down our road.  We were able to judge how far away it was as the melodic ‘kathump’ of the newspapers hitting fences, nature strips and gates became more pronounced.  We could tell that the curfew had lifted at the airport as the first of many airplanes began to arrive in Sydney from far-flung places.  A watering system began next door, our heating system burst into life, someone sneezed walking past the front of the house.  A group of cyclists hurtled down the road yelling to each other about a bloke called “Samuel” who was in hospital.

Ears now keened we both smiled with delight when, from over the bay, a lion’s roar reached us.  We are incredibly lucky and privileged to live near one of the most beautiful zoos in the world.  As the first of the sun’s rays fought to get through the shutters, we listened on.  A bus drove past, its air brakes shooshing as it slowed at a stop.

More bird calls, including a pandemonium of Rainbow Lorikeets screeching past the window to settle (we guessed) in the Bangalow Palm in our back garden.

My husband snuffled, stretched and resumed his constant (sigh), yet reassuring snore.  The cat jumped up on the bed and began purring.  We could both hear our hearts beating and the rhythmic pulsing of our blood when we pressed one ear against the pillow.  By now we could see each other.  ”Good morning my beautiful son” I said.  ”Morning Mama, it really is a very noisy world we live in isn’t it?” he quipped.  We both grinned, cuddled closer and so our day began.

* Please take time to think about those children who are born without the gift of hearing.  I’ve long been a supporter of the wonderful work of The Shepherd Centre.  Consider a donation if you can.

~Albert Einstein

My daughter has become quite the clock-watcher of late as she has been learning about “time” at school.  She is particularly fascinated by clocks with roman numerals and was spellbound when I managed to produce an old Mickey Mouse alarm clock whose ‘hands’ clunked over as each minute passed.  She recently took money out of her bank account and bought herself a large, fluoro lime green watch.  It is quite hideous, but she’s in love.

Her new-found love of time makes me feel sad and reflective about just how quickly time actually does march on.  Until recently she was happily clueless about the hours passing. Watching her grow and play, oblivious to the pressures and constraints of deadlines and the rush of everyday life, confirmed to me, as a mother, that I must be doing something right.  You see, it’s my view that for young children, time is obscure and virtually indefinable.  It’s like a form of magic.

They have little concept of the difference between a minute, half an hour, a day, a week.  And certainly, for really little ones, understanding the difference between a month and a year is impossible.

Young children mark the time by significant events in their life (as do most adults) such as when Mummy goes to work, when she comes back, when they are hungry, when the sun comes up and when it goes down.  However, they are not truly understanding time, rather observing events that take place regularly one after the other.

A birthday might be much-anticipated, but the time taken getting to that magical day is just a blur of other events until you tell them that today is their “big day”.  And forget trying to explain the finer points of daylight saving to a three-year-old or exactly how long it’s going to take to get there on a road trip.

Instead, I encourage you to celebrate their perception of time.  In a world of stress and rushing here and there, whenever possible, a young child shouldn’t have to worry about time passing.  As long as there is plenty of time to play, sleep and eat, at this stage of their lives they will benefit tremendously by having big slabs of free time to daydream and observe at their own speed.

So, I’m going to continue to make time to take my daughter outdoors to observe how Mother Nature expresses time.  The beauty of a sun setting followed by its inevitable counterpart – sunrise; the passing of clouds into the horizon; the rising of a full moon; a spider busying herself in a web; leaves falling from trees followed not long after by buds, blossoms and beautiful new growth; the ebb and flow of ocean tides; the birth of a lamb; the death of a gnarly old gum tree and you know what? I bet we don’t refer to the lime green wristwatch once.

Next week marks 10 years since I became a mother.  Whilst I was overjoyed at having a healthy baby boy, (followed closely by a beautiful little girl just 16 months later), I recall feeling a crushing sense of responsibility and vulnerability during the early months of their lives.  As Elizabeth Stone astutely said, “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart walk around outside of your body.” My life, in an instant, had shifted from looking after only myself to being responsible for the physical, spiritual and emotional health of two young babies.

The prospect of this seemed positively overwhelming.  How on earth could I guide them through the vagaries of life? I then realized simplicity was key.  My childhood had been simple.  Why shouldn’t theirs be too?  As they grew and developed, I learned that there was no need to provide them with every whiz-bang bit of technology or fill their days to bursting with structured activities or toys.

Instead, I decided to steep their formative years in experiences that were simple, honest, loving, mysterious and practical – all coated with a layer of fun.  And, of course, who better to help me with this than Mother Nature?  She’s a brilliant, patient teacher and children are such willing students.  She has an inexhaustible “props” box from which to draw.  I began turfing my children outside to find their own fun and learn at their own pace and they rewarded me by doing this in spades.

If children have just one adult in their life who is willing to invest in them a sense of wonder whenever they step outside their front door, they will live an enriched life and enjoy a lifelong connection to nature.

With the rush of life, are we forgetting to teach our children how to do nothing and enjoy it?  Are we breeding an expectation that their lives have to be a series of WOW moments?  I tend to think so.  Life can be rich without riches.  And it can be full without a cupboard overflowing with toys or a drawer stuffed with computer games.

Kids WANT to spend time outside.  So let them at it and they’ll find their own fun.  That’s a promise.

Edited version of article written for Family Australia magazine.

Thoughtful Gardening by Ed Ikin

Gardening and plants have long been a passion of mine.  I’ve spoken before about how my obsession began and my desire to instill a love of the natural world in my children.  I spend much time explaining to them that plants are integral to our emotional, spiritual and physical health.

And whilst I’m not a teacher, I inherently know children benefit tremendously by witnessing firsthand the amazing lessons Mother Nature can offer.  Introducing your children to concepts such as colours, shapes, numbers & letters, time, the web (and cycle) of life within the context of nature and plants provides hours of creative and educational fun.  The senses are also fired up.  And you’ll be surprised at just how much your own view of plants can be enhanced when experienced through a child’s eyes…

Recently, my children and I were lucky enough to visit some beautiful gardens in Europe and played many games based on the senses and simple concepts such as shapes and numbers.  In Italy, where the sun shone brightly, everything seemed to be bursting from the ground.  We explored the senses of taste and smell each day, having discovered the largest sage bush I’ve ever seen.  Parsley, wild thyme, sweet marjoram, rosemary and garlic plants were also on offer.

Grace picking leaves for 'pollo con burro e salvia bruciata'.

In Gloucestershire, we looked for every colour on the warm spectrum we could find.  Some of the results were spectacular.

"A bush of mini suns." Grace Webster

"These almost hurt my eyes." Grace Webster

"Thistles come in dark pink? Cool." Grace Webster

In Cornwall, my daughter conceptualised a new colour for this bloom, calling it “blurple”.  We decided indigo was also a good descriptor and that the shape of the petals were like masses of mini hearts.

"A 'blurple' hydrangea." Grace Webster

We listened to the wind and the sound of our laughter here.  And we enjoyed space to run wildly about.

"It sounds like the wind in the grass at our farm." Angus Webster

A touch of rain didn’t stop us.

"It's going 'kerplunk' and I can hear a frog too." Grace Webster

We wondered at the majesty of trees.

"I wonder how many of me it would take to be as tall as this tree? Can you see the giraffes Mama?" Grace Webster

In France the sound of the bees’ lazy droning made us very happy.

"Buzz, buzz, I wonder why he does?" Grace Webster

Whilst we have been tremendously lucky to have had these experiences, magical plants can be found in the simplest of places.  The smell of Daphne at your front door, the fat fluffy buds of magnolias about to burst forth, tiny clover leaves in a nature strip, trees and grasses arching this way and that on a windy day, herbs growing in a pot on your grandmother’s window sill, bindii preparing to set its spiky teeth in anticipation of bare feet in summer.  Plants of all shapes, sizes, scents and uses thrive in disused lots, on building sites, in the crack of a wall.  They are literally everywhere – we just need to encourage our children to look up, down, all around and relish the experience.

As a child, did you have a favourite plant?  I’d love to hear about it…

With a glut of green tomatoes at our farm and the first frost threatening to turn them all to slush, we recently harvested the last of our heirloom tomatoes.  As is the way when you have a productive veggie patch and no real skill on managing your harvests, we got buckets and buckets of them and have been forced to  love everything green tomato.  After giving away as many as we could, my 8yr old daughter and I devised this recipe for an easy green tomato chutney/relish recipe.  With all the chopping and measuring, children will love helping out with this recipe and can assist with every aspect of it.  This is, of course, dependent on their age and ability – which you are best placed to judge.

• 500g green tomatoes roughly diced
• 500g mix of red (Spanish) and brown onions roughly diced
• 250g golden sultanas or raisins
• 250g brown sugar
• 500ml malt vinegar
• 2tbsp salt
• 1tsp ras-el-hanout
• 1tsp ground cardamom
• 1tsp chilli flakes (more if you like zing – I added more during the cooking process)
• 1tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp ground ginger

Put all the ingredients into a large heavy-based saucepan.  Bring to a hard boil.  Then reduce heat and simmer for at least an hour (probably longer, so don’t panic) or until everything is softened and slightly caramelized. Spoon into sterilized jars. Have your children decorate the jars with funky ribbons and handmade labels.

Enjoy – but don’t forget to save some tomatoes for frying. Delicious.  I’m now wondering whether one could make a green tomato bruschetta – stay tuned!

“ Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart walk around outside of your body.” ~Elizabeth Stone~ ”

I became a mother almost 10 ago. I could talk a lot here about how fundamentally life-changing that moment was or how much I have enjoyed the ride and how relentless, frustrating, joyous, affirming, hysterical and rewarding the journey has been. But there are others more eloquent than me who regularly speak on motherhood. So instead I am going to list the 10 things I hope for this Mother’s Day. One thing for each of the years of my children’s beautiful lives.

1. I hope that my children will continue to question everything and explore alternatives when necessary;
2. I hope that they maintain their delicious sense of humour;
3. I hope that they continue to experience wonder whenever they step outside the front door;
4. I hope they continue to cherish their bodies and have long, healthy and fruitful lives;
5. I hope they remain passionate and compassionate;
6. I hope they learn to manage disappointment, grief, failure and challenge effectively and with good grace;
7. I hope they find something to smile about each and everyday;
8. I hope that their relationships with others are always full, loving, open and honest;
9. I hope they always think of ways to give to others less fortunate;
10. And finally, I hope that they will never think that it’s uncool to cuddle and kiss their mother and father

What do you wish for on Mother’s Day?