Three Years

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Last week, a friend asked me about how we chose names for our three boys. I was so pleased to be asked, and on the third anniversary of Archie and Aubrey’s birth, I thought it was a good time to share what I told her, and some thought about how I am doing these days.

Three years is a long time, and the very blink of an eye. Inigo keeps getting bigger, the others remain a treasured memory.

Inigo was named after the character in “The Princess Bride“.

Have you seen the movie? Or read the book?

It won’t make a lot of sense unless you have – he is a strange character, very brave, and loyal, and determined. But also very human.

Inigo’s middle name is George, after his maternal great grandfather

Aubrey means “Ruler of Elves”. We chose it because Aubrey wasn’t with us for long, I think of him as a fleeting sprite. A bright but brief energy (which makes me sound like a crazy hippy, but there you have it). His middle name is Michael, after my uncle, my mothers younger brother who died when he was 10 days old. He was born with a hole in his heart, and my grandmother was never allowed to even see him. or hold him, or feed him. His absence left a big hole in our family, I can’t imagine what it was like for my grandmother.

Archimedes was named after the great mathematician, and father of the science of fluid dynamics. He lived for such a long time with little or no amniotic fluid, and we so hoped that he would overcome that adversity. It was not to be, but the name reflects great scientific striving.

Hare is an old family name in Mark’s family, we don’t know the story behind it, but early in our relationship we were given a hare to care for by a vet. Grasshopper meant a lot to both of us, and Hare also has that feeling of the brief but powerful.

Three years makes me feel like an elder statesman – the survivor.

I know that is a crazy thing to say, but surviving every single day at the beginning was so fucking hard.

Now I feel like I have woven them into my life, that their lives and their loss are inextricably a part of me, and I know for certain that I am a better person because of them.

There is great power in knowing that you can survive the worst thing in the world. That is their gift to me, and I am coming to a point now that I can honour that gift by living well, feeling joy, and that success and happiness is not disloyalty, but the best sort of memorial.

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Thanks to everyone for your messages of support on the day, and especially to Steph for taking me out in the morning, to dad for entertaining me in the afternoon, and mum for loaning him out 🙂

Thanks also to Bonnie and Zenia for the memorial stone fruit trees, and to Adam and Kerry for taking great care of them. Both trees have fruit on them!

I appreciate every single chance to talk about my boys, and even more, those of you that let me do it 🙂

And the flowers? Awful blue chrysanthemums I found at the train station. Yes, I do have an odd sense of humour.

Why I love public education

Well, I love our school at least!

Just had a meeting with Squishy’s school principal, about what we can do (together) to prevent him from disengaging in the classroom. Kindy has been fun, but he doesn’t love school like I had hoped he would, and I decided to be proactive about working with the school before he starts year 1.

And I’m so glad I did. Our principal gets where I am coming from, and understands that this isn’t about academic achievement, it’s about engagement, and a love of learning. She’s arranged for Squish to have an assessment by the school counsellor, so that hopefully will give us some direction for how to enrich his school experience next year.

We both agree that acceleration (skipping a grade) isn’t appropriate for a kid this young, but that there is more we can be doing to support him.

Woot!

– from my iPhone

Surprise!

In the last week of school holidays, Squishy and I went into the city for the day. While we were there, we wandered into a big bookshop and bought a book. The 13 Storey Treehouse caught my eye because it is a “chapter” book, but it has loads of illustrations, so the amount of text per page builds quite slowly – the first chapter has very little text.

So I gave it to him last Monday night, to read as he was going to bed. He resisted vociferously, until I showed him how many pictures it had, and he agreed to give it a go. I presumed that he had read a bit and put it down, because I didn’t hear any more until Wednesday, when he said, “Mama, I can’t wait to get to chapter 10”. Luckily I was driving, so I didn’t fall off my chair. Apparently there was no special reason to get to chapter 10, other than he was enjoying the book so much, and wanted to read more.

He then said he was worried about what he was going to read after he finished this book. I looked – he was over half way through the book (in two days!). So I promised to talk to the school librarian about letting him borrow big kids books. She told me about The 26 Storey Treehouse and The 39 Storey Treehouse. So I ordered those and picked them up on Friday.

As of right now, he is 3/4 of the way through The 26 Storey Treehouse.

He’s got the bug. The reading addiction that got many a shy nerdy kid through the early years of being “different” and not fitting in anywhere. My boy has got protection. The metaphorical shield of access, not only to his own imagination, but to entire worlds, galaxies of infinite adventure and fun.

I couldn’t be more proud of him.