Parenting: It’s About YOUR Family Values

Parenting: It’s About YOUR Family Values.

Our baby group began in the hospital.

Four of us delivered beautiful babies within a couple days of each other, and met as we waddled down the corridors, pushing our babies in their clear bassinettes. We discovered that we lived close to each other, and decided to meet up. We each brought a friend to our first meeting, and continued to gather regularly to support, laugh and cry together.

We shared our problems with breastfeeding: some had no milk and some had too much. Some had sleep, others had little. We excitedly phoned each other when our babies cut their first teeth, and rolled over for the first time – Well everybody else phoned when their baby rolled over. Our baby rolled over off the side of the bed, landing on her head – with both of us watching. So our excited phone-call was to the doctor!

Then, the babies began to walk. From then on, they proceeded to ‘explore’ or ‘get into mischief’ – depending on which school of thought we came from. Out came the virtual daggers that ripped each other’s views of parenting into shreds. Some were in favour of smacking while others were opposed to it. Some had schedules for sleeping times, while others had baby-led regimes.

Out of our regard for each other, we celebrated a combined first birthday, and officially ended our group. We recognised that our views differed enough to become a barrier to our friendship if we continued to meet up under the same circumstances.

Our ‘babies’ are now well into their twenties. All of them are beautiful, healthy, loving young adults – despite their parents’ different approaches to parenting. Occasionally we bump into the other parents and we share what our young adults are up to. We are still friends – probably because we chose to focus on things other than the behaviour of each other’s children.

We all wanted to do our very best for our families. But unfortunately, that was often framed in a very black and white viewpoint – certainly one that was clouded by lack of sleep, childhood illnesses, current hypotheses on child-rearing and the different backgrounds and beliefs of each of our families.

That initial experience of parenting groups was enough to make me seek friendships and mentoring outside of a focus on children. Perhaps I subconsciously recognised that other parents of children the same age as mine were caught up in the same boat as me. So I maintained friendships with older, more experienced parents through craft groups and bible studies. Through informal discussions, I found their objective views were much more helpful. Perhaps the most encouraging message they gave me was that they had survived.

At one stage, a group of older members of our congregation organised a parenting course presented by Ross Campbell, author of ‘How to really love your child’ and Gary Chapman, author of ‘The Five Love Languages’. The course was great and the kids had a good time too. They were fed pizza and cared for while we learnt to enjoy our kids…and really love them in a way they could understand. These days, we try to encourage and mentor parents as we were encouraged and mentored.

We recognise that there is a whole world full of different parenting philosophies and practices today. Each family is different from every other family.  So we encourage families to note and treasure those differences.

Some families have found it useful to make their own Family Values Ladder. Parents each make a list of what is important to them such as: education, trust, sharing, honesty, God-loving. Then they share their ideas and together prioritise them according to what they believe to be most important to their family. It’s useful to involve the kids in this process.  Just a word of caution: Taking your teens to the local KFC to do this activity while their friends are working a shift behind the counter is not a good idea…Don’t ask me how I know that!

Family Values Ladders 

Together with your partner, work out which values you hold to most strongly, and write them on a ladder such as this.

‘Family Values Ladders’ help keep family ‘challenges’ in perspective. For example, if ‘kindness’ is high on the family value ladder, while ‘keeping up with fashion’ is further down the ladder, mum and dad might choose to focus on encouraging kindness in their family, rather than arguing with their children about which t-shirt they should wear.

These days I encourage all parents to attend courses, read books, watch dvds or television programmes that teach about child development and relationships. There are some words of caution I usually give:

  • Parenting courses, parenting groups and parenting advice that is useful should leave you with a feeling of ‘I can do that’, no matter how well (or not) you have been doing.
  • Good parenting courses should back-up other good parenting courses
  • If some advice you hear is contrary to what others are saying, check it out! Find out the evidence and the original source of the information and compare it.
  • If your heart is telling you that something is not right, ask yourself, “Is this showing love, and does it practice respect for all concerned?’
  • Ask questions! Don’t take any advice as ‘gospel’ without questioning it – and especially, check out the context of biblical references if they are quoted.

Perhaps the wisest words of advice we’ve ever received are from Ian Grant, author of ‘Growing Great Families!’ *

‘If you’re having fun being a parent you’re probably doing it about right!’

*http://www.theparentingplace.com

The Nest Is But An Empty Shell.

The nest is but an empty shell. It sits on the lowest branch of our neighbour’s palm tree. I can see it from my window as I write.

To look at it now, in mid-winter Adelaide, it looks cold, hard and lifeless.

A pair of Murray Magpies built it from mud last Spring. Then they took it in turns to bring materials to line it with warmth and love–and a Murray-Magpie-mud-nest-full of our roof insulation. We had enough to share.

Over the next few weeks the birds kept the nest warm and each other company much of the time. Of course, they may well have been guarding the nest from neighbourhood cats and possums. Beware anything that gets between a Murray-Magpie-mum and her eggs!

The day arrived that we saw tiny beaks poke up to be shoved full of whatever mum and dad bird collected.

But, as happens, the chicks grew–too big for the nest. The chicks flew away.

Too soon the nest was empty.

Summer passed. Autumn too.

And now, Winter sits. Its long, dark clouds hang like a lifeless shroud.

The nest is but an empty shell. It sits and sways on a dying palm branch, waiting silently for the warmth of Spring that promises new life and love.

And this empty shell, from which I watch, fills with the warmth of hope.

 

Julie Hahn 12th August 2017

 

 

 

 

 

 

How Not To Use a SMART list: For mothers and others

I made my list, as I’ve often been told to do.
It was quite short, and, as the experts had been coaching me SMART:
Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Timely.
And so the day began.
First job: Strip the bed – except that a sleeping husband lay there soundly sleeping, so I made plans to come back later.


I decided that I might as well have breakfast, except that last night’s dishes had been forgotten by the other inhabitants of the house. So, I went to fill the dishwasher. But it too was full of dishes that had not been put away. I thought that while I put those away I’d fill the sink to wash the pots and pans. I turned on the hot water and went to sprinkle several drops of dishwashing liquid into the water, but alas, the bottle was empty. To be efficient, I thought I’d write it on the shopping list straight away.
So I grabbed the shopping list, ticked the box for dishwashing liquid, and some other tick boxes caught my eye.
‘I must not forget coffee, or tuna or flour…Now what else do I need?’


But as I contemplated the list a bit longer, I heard an unfamiliar trickling sound behind me. I looked around and saw that the hot water was still running, and now there was a puddle on the floor and trickles all down the kitchen cabinet doors.
I turned off the tap and headed for the mop and bucket which I couldn’t find in its usual place. So I went to ask the sleeping husband.
“Errr…oh…Its outside!” he moaned as he rolled over and pulled the quilt back over his shoulder.


I grabbed the mop and bucket and was about to mop up the puddle on the floor. But then I thought that while I was at it, I ought to mop the rest of the floor–it was well overdue. 
So I went to the laundry to get the floor washing liquid.

One of the laundry baskets was overflowing, so I filled the washing machine with clothes to wash. But when I went to fill the rinse container with vinegar, the vinegar container was empty.

So I went to the pantry to get some more vinegar. There was no vinegar there either, so I went to the bathroom where I sometimes keep vinegar so I can use it with carb soda to clean the bathroom. Sure enough, there was some vinegar there – and also some carb soda.

The bathroom, especially the loo, looked a bit grimy and I remembered that it had missed out on its weekend clean. So I poured some vinegar and carb soda into the toilet with the promise that I’d return to scrub it later. I went to wash my hands and noticed that the hand basin wasn’t clean either. So I made the most of my time there and began to clean it.

An empty toothpaste tube lay on the vanity as a reminder to get some more – and I’d already forgotten it for three days already. So I picked it up and took it to the kitchen to add it to my shopping list.

And what did I see?

A half-made shopping list; a puddle on the floor and trickles down the kitchen cabinet; a bench full of dirty dishes and an open dishwasher full of clean dishes. I thought back to the laundry in which sat a dry mop and bucket and a washing machine full of clothes but empty of vinegar. In our bathroom was a toilet waiting to be scrubbed and a hand-basin half-done. And still in our bedroom was a soundly sleeping husband.

As far as my list of things to do – well, nothing had been done. My list of SMART was dumb for mums. It was an hour and a half later, and I hadn’t even got to number one.



Part Two:

My morning of doing a SMART list had resulted in many things begun…but nothing finished.
I sat and sulked…until the sleeping husband arose from his slumber and wandered out to the kitchen. He found me, shoulders slumped, at my desk–My desk is only a metre away from the sink.

‘I just wanted to do a few things and have failed at them all!’ I told him, my bottom lip drooping almost to the ground.
He took me in his arms, kissed me on the forehead and laughed gently–I love it when he does that!


Instead of lecturing me about good time-management or coming up with easier solutions, he just hugged me and listened. I ranted and raved until eventually I said,
‘Perhaps I should just be a little gentler on myself.’
At last he commented,
‘That’s about the first thing you’ve said that’s made any sense.’

I hugged him back.


It’s now a few weeks later. All of those jobs did eventually get done – just not in the linear time-frame I had originally planned.
The clothes were washed – and hung out, and brought in, and sorted by another member of the family.
The dishes did not stay in the sink or on the bench or in the dishwasher all day. I think it was the mess in the kitchen that prompted the girls to get it clean before they left for work.
The floor was mopped by the son who was working a late shift.


Eventually I realized that having put some strategies in place years before, to get each of the family to do their bit, had paid off.

As long as I didn’t expect everything to happen before 7 am!


Written in May 2013

Thanks to Beverley Eckermann for the photos


Hugh: You Can Learn A Lot About A Person From Their Texts

‘You can tell a lot about a person from their texts,’ Sally said. ‘I’m predicting he’s twenty-something from Melbourne. Who knows why he’d want to move to Darwin.’

Our house is full of twenty-to-thirty-somethings. We get along great.

I’m one of the most recent arrivals to this share-house, so this was only my second time of screening new applicants for the soon-to-be-vacant room.

It didn’t go according to plan.

 

Our home’s owner and co-resident Sally read the first text to us.

:My name is Hugh. I’m interested in the room for rent. Can I come around tonight?’

:OK. See you between 5:30 and 6:30 pm

:Great. I’ll be there at 8.

:Did you get my text?

:Oh. Ok. CU then.

 

A house with six twenty-to-thirty somethings is usually busy. 

Last night was no exception.

As well as the anticipated inspection by Hugh, Sally was holding a cosmetics party later in the evening and expected the demonstrator, her friend Bonnie, at around five for tea and a chat before the party.

Our house has five bedrooms and one bathroom. Fortunately, there’s another shower hooked up outside in the garden. 

Just before five o’clock, Sally went into the outside shower.

Her phone rang.

I would have answered it, except that she’d taken it into the shower area with her and put it on the shelf in the shower alcove. Her hands were full of shampoo bubbles.

It was Hugh – at five o’clock.

‘I’m out the front of the house,’ he said.

The rest of us saw him. Then we saw Sally appear from the garden-shower, draped in a towel.

Hugh reached out to shake her hand. Sally’s hand gripped more tightly to the towel. 

Hugh didn’t seem to notice Sally’s discomfort and began to wander around the garden.

The first thing he noticed was our plunge-pool. A partially submerged water tank–not big enough to lie down in, let alone do any laps–it provides us with an opportunity to quickly cool-off.

‘What kind of water is it?’ Hugh asked.

Sally’s face reflected what the rest of us felt. What sort of water would you like? We’re happy with the H2O variety. Perhaps you’d prefer Avian or a mineral spring water?

Sally remained silent. Hugh continued to wander.

Sally’s partner collects stuff. Mostly, he gets it from the Dump Shop, our city’s very effective recycling store. A trail of his stuff decorates the backyard.

Hugh followed the trail to the shed.

‘There’s a lot of junk here,’ he said. ‘Did you buy it like this?’

Sally remained silent. Hugh wandered, uninvited, into the house.

 

Sally raced into her room, threw on something a little less revealing than her towel and seated herself on the couch. The rest of us observed, from a distance.

‘I would prefer a gas oven. Any chance of changing to a gas oven?’

‘Oh we’re thinking about a gas oven,’ said Sally.

‘Really?’ asked Hugh

‘No.’ said Sally.

 

He turned his attention to me, in the kitchen.

‘There seem to be girls living here. I’ve lived with them before. Oh, are there guys here too? That would be good to have a kick of the footy. Are they into footy?’

‘No,’ I said.

He continued. ‘But they must be into the footy.’

At precisely the moment he announced that guys must be into footy, Bonnie barged in through our side door with suitcases, ready for the cosmetics party.

‘I’m moving in!’ she shouted.

Hugh looked at Bonnie. He looked at her suitcases. He looked at me. His eyes questioned though didn’t they didn’t give away what he was thinking.

Hugh left. No good-bye. No thanks. No acknowledgment.

Needless to say, Hugh did not choose to join our household. Whether it was the oven, the lack of footy, or that Sally refused to let go of her towel to shake his hand, we’ll never know.

But Sally was right.

You can tell a lot about a person from their texts.

 

Qualified to Care: Qualifications, Training, Skills and Education

If you’re old enough, you’ll remember them: Rectangular sheets of rectangular stamps in the fold of magazines, accompanying adverts for correspondence schools. Printed on each stamp was the name of a course available.

For years I ignored them. I had a job. I had other opportunities to learn. I had no time for extra study.

But this time, I was stuck at home in a country that said that if I worked, my family would be deported. Courses for adults weren’t available – or affordable. And no child-care was available anyway.

So I tore off a rectangular stamp, licked the back of it and stuck it onto a piece of cardboard – and posted it in the post-box on our front porch.

Over the following weeks, I paid a fee, and collected my course books from the post-box.

After some time, I had an exam. I was provided with the questions and I could take as long as I needed to find the answers from the books. When I was ready, I picked up the phone, punched in the numbers for the answers to the multiple-choice questions, and earned my Diploma of Dressmaking for getting the exam 100% correct. I never stitched a stitch.

Several years later, in our own country, I enquired about becoming a Family Day-Care provider.
I’ve looked after children since I can remember. I was a qualified Registered Nurse – at the Children’s Hospital. I had my own four children who’d thus far survived childhood. But I lacked a piece of paper that I could obtain – for a fee and six weeks of study – that would tell the world that I was qualified to care for children.

I guess my stubbornness got in the way of me ever becoming qualified to care for children. My Nurse’s Registration dissolved when I had to make the choice between looking after my own children, or someone else’s: Part-time employment for nurses was not an option at that stage, and to keep your registration, you had to work the equivalent of one full-time year every five years. Living in the USA for three and a half years was the end of that.

So, when my youngest began school, I went to University. I had to begin a degree from scratch. I couldn’t even do a ‘Refresher’ course in nursing, because, apparently, anatomy and physiology change if you don’t keep up your Nurses Registration.

In the past few weeks, a local Nursing Home has been in the news for its abysmal quality of care of its patients. I wonder about the qualifications of those who worked there. I think of all of the former-nurses who, like me, are sitting on the side-lines watching on, experienced and caring yet unqualified, horrified that those being employed in caring roles may have earned their qualifications by paying for a piece of paper and ticking the right boxes.

If people were able to learn skills through training on white-boards or computers or by watching dvds, we’d all be MasterChefs and accomplished builders. But it doesn’t work that way, does it? Chefs and bakers do not master their skills by watching dvds. They need to cut and chop and measure and taste and mix and practice and fail and try again. Builders need to build. They can’t learn to hit a nail on the head with a hammer, by watching a dvd. Nor can carers learn to care by copying words from a white-board.

In our attempt to become a clever country, have we provided ‘Training’ without teaching skills? Ultimately, have we confused ‘Education’ with ‘Qualifications’ – some of which are not worth any more than a rectangular stamp on a piece of cardboard.

What happens when the lights go out

The day began great

I was up before eight

Had a walk, a coffee and shower

 

Then I went to my room

Felt a shadow of gloom

Alas! We’d run out of power

 

‘Tis no matter, thought I

‘Tis as easy as pie

My PC is charged to capacity

But what I’d forgot

–So easy ‘twas not—

The NBN needs electricity

 

Though my homework was done

I’d bet three to one

My excuses would not be allowed

So with paper and pen

I began it again

Coz my homework was stuck in the cloud

 

So tonight when you say

What did you do today

Forgive when my temper ignites

Though it started out great

I’m blamin’ the state

Coz my homework went out with the lights

Life, laughter, cartwheels and mixed messages

Adelaide city breathes music and life and laughter in March. The streets come alive with buskers playing instruments, singing, dancing, making merry mayhem…

Yet nestled right in the city are the Botanic Gardens, adjacent to parklands and the aging Royal Adelaide Hospital. It’s a glorious garden full of peace and quiet.

Usually.

This day was a bit different. WOMAD was about to begin across the fence. The music of rehearsing singers from Africa filled the air, and a joyful chorus of birds echoed back their response.

I wandered through the gardens and encountered a class of school kids on rambling lawns. They ran and jumped and cartwheeled and flipped. I watched in admiration, with my memory taking me back to trying to learn how to cartwheel…never successfully.

‘How wonderful!’ I thought as I watched them.

Then, I noticed that only half of them wore shorts. The other half wore skirts – according to uniform requirements.

At their age (about 7-8) it didn’t matter that they flipped and cartwheeled. But my heart saddened when I realised what will happen in that school in about a year.

And that will be the end of the flipping and climbing and jumping and cartwheeling for the half that must wear skirts.

The school will tell them in words ‘You can do whatever you want to do. Be brave. Be strong. Be active. Be a leader.’

Yet every time they must put on their skirts, they’ll know that the world is telling them something different.

 

Julie Hahn 12 March 2017

 

 

 

Unplanning your day: The secret of being productive

And another day bites the dust.

Another day

interrupted by phone-calls that distract

and messages that need attention

and book reviews that possibly didn’t need to be written

but you wrote them anyway

and impromptu lunches with dear friends

and letters that almost broke your heart to write.

Not what you planned–again.

But you answered,

you gave,

you shared,

you discussed,

you encouraged,

you listened,

you blessed.

 

Unplanned

– but productive,

if you don’t measure it against a To Do list.

 

 

Julie Hahn, 8th March 2017

How to Make Your New Year Beautiful

A mother  decided to display a beautiful crystal bowl she’d been given for her wedding but had never used.

So she found a lovely spot on a bench and placed it there.
The family had a habit of losing their keys, so it became a reliable place to find the keys, and the stray coins, and the springs that pop out of pens, and the washers that somehow manage to find themselves loose, and the empty lolly wrappers and spare batteries, and …

It soon became the junk-collector.

Frustrated that a thing of beauty had become a source of ugliness, the mother cleared it out and planned to put it away again.

Until a thought popped into her mind that perhaps if she gave it a good purpose, it would remain a thing of beauty.

So she filled it with beautiful, healthy fruit. The sparkling faceted crystal enhanced the colours of the fruit and the bowl remained beautiful and full of purpose.

New Year’s Resolutions

I thought of the stories with which we are all familiar – trying to empty ourselves of bad habits. I thought about New Year’s resolutions to get rid of bad habits.

The thing is, often we try to empty ourselves without replacing the bad with something better, so garbage sneaks in again:

We decide to stop yelling – but have not learned other alternatives such as whispering. So we hold off our yelling for a while – but eventually explode.

We tell our kids or ourselves “Don’t!”  – but don’t tell what TO do.

We complain that our loved ones don’t pick up on our clues – but we don’t tell them what we DO want.

We want to stop smacking – but haven’t actually been around gentle alternatives often enough or for long enough to see how they work long term.

And too soon, those things we’re trying to get rid of are replaced with even more garbage.

 

It doesn’t have to stay that way.

Before you make a commitment to say NO to something,

think about what you will say YES to.

With which beautiful thing will you replace the ugliness?

 

Find a safe place to discover and explore new and beautiful alternatives

– and often the difference between ugly and beautiful is just a little YES away.

How to Travel with Children Without Losing the Plot

How to travel with children without losing the plot?

Like most of my parenting journey, I learnt the hard way how to travel with children.

We’ve certainly had moments on our trips that we’d all prefer to forget. For example, when they were babies and we had food poisoning from a questionable chicken burger on our way to a wedding in Queensland. And when we moved to the USA — six flights in 56 hours with three children under five, and no sleep!

On our way home several years later, we traveled through the Rocky Mountains and danced with real live American Indians. We went to Universal Studios and screamed on the Jurassic Park ride. And we visited Mickey Mouse at Disneyland – where our four year old whacked him on his nose! Ouch!

We did things we never dreamed we’d do.

Yet, six months later, our children announced that their favourite place in the whole wide world was Lake Bonney Caravan Park, a couple of hour’s drive from our home in Adelaide. And their favourite ‘theme park’ was the Monash playground, a free community playground in the Riverland.

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Family trips became one of our favourite things to do

and we’ve had fewer of those ‘moments’ since we’ve learnt to simplify and enjoy the journey.scan_20161210-19

On one of our trips, the six of us traveled to Queensland in our Tarago–without a trailer or roof rack. Many caravan parks now have camp kitchens, so we no longer have to take our own barbecue or gas bottle, tables, chairs, saucepans and kettles. On that trip we packed two very cheap tents, and limited each passenger to a back-pack and a handbag-sized bag, a gym-mat, pillow, polar-fleece blanket and quilt cover (without the quilt).

We relied completely on what the towns between Adelaide and Brisbane had for us to do and eat. We figured that they needed our business more than the big supermarkets back home did.

So we got to taste the bakery food in every town, and checked out community centres and local landmarks. In Coonabarabran, for instance, there was a really neat planetarium, where our seven-year-old astounded us with his questions about particular constellations. We had a great trip of over 7000 kilometres.

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Perhaps we’ve missed some of the more famous spots along the way.

But we’ve learnt to have fun, discovered all sorts of surprises and enjoyed the diversity of interests in our family. And the kids have stored up enough silly stories about their parents to write their own novel.

 

Tips we’ve learnt along the way:

.    Treat the whole journey as an adventure.

Don’t try to travel too far in one day with little kids. Take your time, even if you need to take an extra day to get there.

Stop every couple of hours, at least, to break up your trip, stretch legs, wear off energy, find a toilet and perhaps, change seats.scan_20161210-15

Even a pile of stones or a creek on the side of the road can turn into an adventure. More than likely, your kids will remember the tiniest thing you did along the way — as long as they had time to spend with you.

.    Pack a ball or Frisbee and find the local playgrounds. Most towns have an oval or sports park. Botanic gardens and national parks are usually cheap places to visit, and they have all sorts of adventures in store for kids (of all ages).

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.    Have the children participate in the planning. Get some maps or ‘trip-tix’ from your automobile association, information from the internet or library, and help the children to plan and anticipate the trip. On the way, help them to follow the roads on the maps, and look for interesting landmarks such as Big Koalas, old buildings and airstrips.

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.    Save your sanity! As parents of little children you still need to cater, cook, wash and clean, even when on holiday.

Aim for simplicity. Is it necessary to have a big holiday far away while your children are really little? Could you get the same benefit from having a more relaxed time somewhere closer?

Is your destination family-friendly?  Could you be less ambitious about how far you will travel on the first day? Is it possible to get the kids looked after while you pack? Could you spend a whole day just relaxing when you get to your first destination? Can you plan to have a day to chill when you arrive home, so you’re not exhausted when you return to work and school?

We discovered that the most stress came from just getting going.

Our parents/grandparents live an hour away. So sometimes we stay there on our first night, just so we’re on the road – then have an early start from there the next morning. With a box of cereal, a long-life milk, (and a stainless-steel coffee plunger) we head off before anyone is ready for breakfast, and stop for brekky somewhere further along the road.

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.    Keep a list of travel games in the glovebox: ‘I spy’, ‘Car cricket’*, ‘Animal, vegetable or mineral?’ Borrow audio books from your local library or download them onto a phone, or stock up on the CDs your kids like to listen to. Make sure they are not your most ‘unfavourite’.

.    What about a scrapbook? Keep a glue stick handy to incorporate collections you make along the way: tickets,  pressed flowers and leaves. Have pencils/felt-tip pens on hand for kids to ‘journal’ — even a two-year-old can ‘draw’ his trip, while a school-age child can write a diary. Remember, like the trip, it’s not the destination or end result that is always the most important.

.    Keep bottles of water in the car and a picnic kit in the boot or in your luggage, with a plate and a knife, and a jar of Vegemite or peanut butter. Lunch can be as simple as purchasing a loaf of fresh bread at the local bakery and making fresh sandwiches at the local playground, saving money for entrances to zoos and theme parks and for accommodation. A bottle of water and a roll of good quality paper-towel makes great wipes for sticky fingers and faces.

.    A trip to the local supermarket for a roasted chicken, a bag of salad and some bread rolls makes a quick, nutritious and relatively inexpensive meal for a family. It’s easy to pack to take to theme parks or to eat when you arrive at your destination. And it really helps the cook to enjoy the holiday!

Pack a bag of apples, bananas or oranges for healthy ‘fast’ food. Freeze long-life milk or drinks to keep your esky (cool-box) cool, and to keep the little ones hydrated, cool and busy for a while.scan_20161210-ggaf-15

.    Children don’t tend to appreciate the value of your money. While Disneyland might have been your life-long dream, that does not oblige your child to appreciate its monetary value. The simple things in life are often the best.

.    Give your children their own spending money, or even better, help them to save for the occasion. Then allow them the freedom to spend ‘their’ money and learn its value. It’s also an effective technique for stopping the
‘I want…s’.

We found this worked when we stopped for an ice-block too. We told the kids they could choose an ice-block up to x-amount. (As the kids have grown older and gone on their own adventures, our ice-blocks have been replaced by coffee.)

.    Teach your children protective behaviour.

Teach them to speak politely and respectfully to new people, but be aware of their safety and security: Not to tell anyone their name, or where they live. And to not go with anyone other than their family.

DO NOT put their name on their hat, t-shirt, bag etc. in a place where it is visible.

Teach your child to stand still if they are lost in a crowd, so that those they’ve lost can retrace their steps to find them. If someone else wants to help them, teach your child to stay still and ask the person to bring mum or dad to where they are.

Children should especially learn that ‘if you can’t see Mummy, Mummy can’t see you’. Practice at home, and get them to also practice saying ‘NO’ really loudly.

.    Keep a list of what to pack, so that you don’t keep forgetting the same thing, such as the hammer to bash in the tent pegs. (No prizes for guessing why I know that one).scan_20161210-14

.    Plan for your trip home too. Don’t be like me. On our first trip I had all sorts of activities for the way to Brisbane, but forgot about the trip home. Oops!

You might like to send some postcards to your home address to remind you of your trip. Or take lots of photos and put a book together as a keepsake. How about getting the kids to design a ‘slide-show’ – using music and narration, when they get home.  Or keep a private Facebook page or use Instagram especially for your trip.

.    Treat the whole trip as the adventure. So a caravan park an hour away can become as much a treat for your children as Disneyland. (Ain’t that the truth?)

.    Finally, remember that

‘Happiness is not the destination; it is a way of traveling’.

 

Originally published in 'The Lutheran' magazine, March 2008.