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Writing by Larissa Patton

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Because my most recent posts have been so far from a highlight reel

Posted on September 19, 2019September 19, 2019 by Larissa

I've never played in a sporting grand final. It might be that I wasn't picked for the team. It could be that I made myself unavailable for team sports in the later years of high school to avoid not getting picked. Or perhaps I was picked for the team, but my inability to throw a … Continue reading Because my most recent posts have been so far from a highlight reel

Posted in WritingTagged kids, Writing2 Comments

Is anyone else a really slow learner?

Posted on January 1, 2017January 1, 2017 by Larissa

I have a moral obligation to report in on how I went with the big announcement I made last year. To the world. On the web. For all to see. 'I’m going to write a book,' I said. By November, the pressure was on. The year was almost over and my book wasn’t finished. In … Continue reading Is anyone else a really slow learner?

Posted in WritingTagged on life, Writing5 Comments

Here I am on Facebook

Here I am on Facebook

And on Instagram

And just as restrictions start to ease, I’ve peaked in the self-isolation stakes. Homemade Nutella. #nutbuttersarehealthy #ferreroprofitsareabouttoplummet #nowicaneatthisbythetablespoon

It was going swimmingly. Our first day. Actually it wasn’t their first day of home learning; it was my first being home with them. Elsie was kneeling in front of the fire balancing her computer on her knees. Maeve had set herself up at the kitchen table. Perhaps tomorrow we could set up something a bit more comfortable, a little more permanent. The day after, maybe we could all be dressed by 9am. And then. As if they’d plotted it. Counted to three before speaking in unison. ‘Mum, could you please help me with this?’ I stood at the sink and looked from one to the other. I took off my rubber gloves. ‘Wait… What… How do I… How does a…’ So that’s what it’s like to stand in a classroom with 25 other people’s kids. And you can only help one. So you choose. And while you’re helping the chosen one, the other 24 have pulled the ink part out of their pens and chewed up tiny bits of torn paper and they’re spitting them through the pens at each other, and God forbid, your backside as you’re bent over trying to guess which of the statements on a Grade 4 worksheet is a preposition phrase. The afternoon was sunny and we went on a bike ride. I leaned back on my bike and sighed. Physical education? Check. I’ve got this. Up ahead by the fence we could see something strange. Later on, the girls jostled to tell Anthony that Elsie wondered if it was a coconut, while I thought it was a ball of rusty wire. But as we got close enough, Maeve yelled, ‘It’s an echidna!’ And apparently, as we all raced to get off our bikes to take a look, I yelled, ‘Look, it’s a hedgehog! It’s a hedgehog!’ But they had to help each other finish that part of the story because they were clutching their bellies and couldn’t speak. At the time, back on the roadside, we all bent down to look at the porcupine. “It’s just what came out my mouth. I know it wasn’t actually a…’ But my explanation fell on deaf ears as the girls ran to look at two snake skins a couple of metres away. (Blog post continued in comments)

It feels a bit like musical chairs at a birthday party. All the kids run and squeal and when the music stops they plonk down on a chair and hold the seat of it with both hands, joy and pride clear on their safe little faces. And the one kid who misses out smiles weakly and then has to stand to the side, pretending to look like it's still a fun party. That's what Mother's Day feels like. And I'm that kid. And I just wish I got to feel what the other kids felt. Some adults at the birthday party might try to make the sad kid feel better by telling them it's just a game. Some might growl at the crying kid and tell them to get over it, it's supposed to be fun, you're lucky to even be invited and if you don't stop that nonsense I'll take you home right now. Some might even tell the kid standing on their own to be happy for the other kids. Not Anthony. He wraps both his arms tight around me and holds me upright until my racking body has stilled and I can speak again. He know that there is nothing that he can say that will make me feel better, and possibly something that would make me feel worse. He acknowledges right where I'm at and just sits with me there. And then it passes. That wave of grief has broken. And the energy in the swash fuels me to hug him back, thank him and run back to the house from the fuel tank where I found him, grateful that I got invited to the party in the first place, happy for the other kids on the chairs, and excited to be a mother to our girls on Mother's Day. #thebearandthewhale #grief #mother’s day

Monday done and dusted. #thebearandthewhale #homelearning #catsofinstagram

Learning from home - incursion to the Dead Sea. #whoneedstogoanywhere #me #thebearandthewhale #farmlife

Iso-bodyboarding after 40mm of rain. #prettyrightthanks #farmlife #thebearandthewhale

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