The Bonus Kids had a Friday to be proud of this week (The kids have decided that Bonus Dad is much cooler than Stepdad, so that’s what I am, and they’re my Bonus Kids).

Blake and Aiden are members of their school choir. The choir held a rendition of Christmas Carols at Morley Galleria in the morning. Blake attended, and sang his heart out. His behaviour and eagerness were a delight to behold, and his sheer joy and enthusiasm at doing something different and exciting was wonderful. I’ve rarely met a kid so into everything.

The kids used to be part of a religion that does not recognise Christmas. Aiden told his teacher that he was still uncomfortable with the idea of singing carols and did not wish to participate. Despite a lot of pressure and guilt-tripping from the teacher he stood firm, and was eventually excused from attending. For an 11 year old boy, standing out from his peers in such a way is a brave thing to do, and I couldn’t have been prouder at the way he stuck to his principles in the face of undue pressure.

Then that evening, Cassie’s dance company, The Performance Company, had their yearly performance at the Burswood Theatre. Luscious, Connor, and I attended (Well, and about 1500 other people, but we’re the important ones…) Cassie has been dance-obsessed these past few months. It’s been impossible to get her to simply walk anywhere. Friday night it paid off: she was fantastic, and we were both struck by just how much of a young woman she is becoming. The heat and noise began to get to the baby before the finale, so we had to leave, which meant missing her in the final number, but what we saw in her performance left us feeling like the bonus-and-birth parents of someone very special.

Then they came over yesterday and played with our magic pens and sent me secret messages telling me I was a dork, so it was back to business as usual :))


Still perfect. Still gorgeous. Only waking up once or twice a night for a feed, and I’m still the most ridiculously goofy man in the Universe.


Brie, pate, sushi, beer. Smiling.

Seriously: well, active, and happy. She took the baby for a half hour walk today. Lyn loves to exercise, and has been unhappy at her physical limitations these last few months. To see her exercising, and pain free, is a source of great happiness.


It’s Erin’s 3rd birthday today. In keeping with our respective philosophies of raising girls, Luscious and I gave her a super-cool Buzz Lightyear trike, and her grandparents gave her a Barbie horse. In keeping with her philosophy of being a girl, Erin rode her trike around the house with the Barbie horse tucked under her arm.

I just can’t believe she’s 3 years old. Her life has been full of tumult and upheaval, and yet she is (within the bounds of being a toddler) a happy, joy-filled little girl. How can I describe what goes through me when she runs the length of the garden shouting “Daddy! Give me a hug!” or gets protective because her baby brother is crying? How can I describe the pain I feel when she cries because her brothers and sister leave her to go back to their father’s house, or she’s fallen and is bleeding?

I can’t. You just have to have one of your own to understand, I think.

Anyway: she had a day filled with family, and toys, and cake, and went to bed a happy girl. Next weekend we have Luscious’ kids, and we’re taking her to the zoo (the treat to end all treats, as far as she’s concerned, particularly when combined with a ride on the ferry across the river to get there.) Can’t complain about a week-long birthday, eh?


Next week. I promise. Once we’ve had the kerbside junk collection, and I’ve finished putting all the pictures up, and the kids have come and had a cool weekend, and we’ve done the zoo, and I’ve persuaded Luscious that getting Shaun Tan to paint our fridge would be a really really cool idea (not that Shaun knows about it yet…), and we’ve finished the Christmas shopping, and made decorations with the kids, and put them up, and all the stuff I haven’t mentioned because they’re on page 82 of the list…

I’ll do some writing. Honest.

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