Back on the bike

Team clutterpunk are back on the bike!

Well, most of them are IN the bike. Can you believe there are three kidlets in there?

I stopped riding in February when I hit the seven-months-pregnant mark. We were asked to car-sit for a friend for 5 months, which was a wonderfully-timed provision: we had been discussing hiring a car for a few months to ease our transition to five, to make sure I could get to hospital quickly during a blink-and-you'll-miss-it type labour and to give me a bit of postnatal recovery time. We gratefully accepted the car and sent Hudson to be bike-sat by a local family who were keen to try him out.

So in these last months we've had time to test out whether it's time for us to buy a car. 

The answer? Not yet! 

We appreciated many things about driving again, particularly the ability to be more spontaneous about visiting people and places further afield. But there was so much NOT to love, beyond the obvious environmental issues. The stress of getting three kids in and out of a small car; the parking difficulties and time-limits; the car-sick-prone child; the money-haemorrhaging. We've decided to opt for the mild inconvenience of having to plan ahead with public transport or car hire for a few more years, while the kids are still small and life continues to be slow and locally-oriented.

Anyway, Hudson is home! And set up for riding.

Here's how it works: the two boys on the bench seat, and the baby in a car seat which we've fixed securely in the front section.

Everyone is snug-as-a-bug. Susannah seems comfortable enough in her car seat and it certainly provides a good amount of restraint and shock-absorption. 

I love being able to put one kid at a time in the bike and leave them there while I fetch other things. I love that I can park right next to our front door in bad weather. I love parking right next to kindergarten, or church, or a friend's house, rather than three road-crossings away. I love that I can pull up outside the bakery and duck in while 'leaving the kids in the car' without breaking the law. I love being able to stop quickly and comfort the baby, break up a fight or fetch a dropped book. I love the Melbourne mizzle on my face and the bracing air while my kids are toasty and dry under the prairie hood. I love hearing the boys chatting and singing and calling out to passers-by.

I love being back on the bike.

Time to move.

With a new babe on the way, it's time for chez clutterpunk  to relocate. In less than two months, we will be packing up our lovely little two-bedroom flat and re-entering the Big Bad World of the Rental Property.

In truth, we've actually got it very easy. Friends have offered us a house two blocks away; an old, unrenovated house with a lots of quirks but lots of space. We know their intentions for the property and therefore know that it will be a secure space for us for 5-10 years if we want, in the local community we're already entrenched in. We're essentially 'staying put', except for our actual living space.

And unlike most rental options, we will have lots of freedom. Freedom to bang pictures into the walls, to make 'improvements', to negotiate directly with the owners, to plant vegies - freedom to put down roots. 

I'm feeling a great sense of possibility, mostly to do with space. There will be:

space to sleep - perhaps with more bedroom options we will iron out some sleeping issues? (ha!)

space to eat - room for a real kitchen table, now time to teach the boys how to sit at one

space to host - a guest room for interstate-dwelling parents, families and friends

space to play - the large backyard is concreted, in true inner-city Mediterranean style, but that's perfect for boys, bikes, chalk and people who hate mowing lawn!

space to hang - with plenty of room for stringing out clothes indoors I can avoid the dryer

space to grow - I'm already planning my above-ground vegie plots, compost and worm farm...

space to create - a room in which the sewing machine and iron can be left out, works-in-progress left undisturbed, and threads, pins and scissors left in reach without ramification.

But I'm a bit apprehensive too. Our family has learned so much from living in a small space together. We've learned to say no to stuff, both by buying less and by letting things go when they are no longer necessary to us. We've learned to be unpretentious hosts, sharing meals with friends sitting on the floor around the coffee table. We've learned to coexist in and negotiate the use of shared space in the dining-living-sewing-guest-TV-playroom. We've learned greater material contentment, and just how rich we are in this world.

But I know my inner aspirational, consumerist self is still lurking under the surface. And I suspect that with the move, and the potential for more accumulation, and the desire to make a new space homely, and the pregnancy nesting syndrome starting to kick in, I've got some big challenges and temptations ahead of me. Can I hold onto sustainable ideals? Will I keep my clutter and consumerism under control? I'd better stay tuned...

Beating the backyard blues.

We don't have a backyard. And I'm beginning to notice.

Now, first I need to qualify a few things. This is NOT a 'poor me' post. My family and I choose to live where we do, in a flat in an inner-city suburb. There are other potential scenarios and options available to us, but when we examined our priorities after the birth of our first son a few years ago, we opted for proximity to support networks, friends, work and facilities over 'space'. It's absolutely been the best decision. And in worldwide terms, it's quite normal not to have your own backyard, let alone more than one or two rooms to your dwelling. 

Because I know this to be true, part of me really wants to stick at this two-bedroom, no-backyard thing forever, just to prove that it's possible, even preferable, and of course the most sustainable option. Kids growing bigger? Stunt their growth! Another baby? It can sleep in the bath! Visitors? They can have our bed, we'll sleep on the dining table. Oh that's right... we don't have a dining table. Top-and-tail, anyone?

But reality has a way of interrupting my idealism with plenty of 'yeah buts', mostly in the form of two rambunctious children. My kids don't know what they are missing...  but I can see that they thrive in the great outdoors. We have so many parks and facilities nearby... but it would be great if sometimes I could chuck them out of the house and let them play free-range in the dirt without constant supervision. We can buy lovely fresh local produce just up the street... but perhaps my food-phobic William would try something new if he helped to grow it himself. 

Revving up the Christiania on a sunny Winter's day

Anyway, while these issues are up for debate at chez clutterpunk, we're getting on with the business of  having a Claytons* backyard. I have a loose deal with myself that we have to get out at least twice a day, rain or shine. 

Mostly, we visit local parks, walk to the fruit shop or post office, or head to the train station (and sometimes even catch a train for fun!). When it's cold and rainy this requires some preparation:

The $15 waterproof overalls from Aussie Disposals, while outside my ethical clothing pledge, have been a real hit this winter.

We also spend a fair bit of time befriending unsuspecting people with backyards and taking them over. On Monday and Wednesday mornings we often drop in on friends in the area, and in the late afternoon, we have a bit of a rhythm going with a new family nearby, in which we come and tear up their turf in exchange for, um, company? 

And late afternoon on Tuesdays and Thursdays, you can find us giving the next-door-neighbours' trampoline a workout. I've recently struck a little deal with the lovely, intrepid single-mother-of-three-primary-schoolers next door. She heads out for a run while I let my kids fight hers for the best trampoline-related injuries.

In all of this, one thing is for certain. If I'd never gone without a backyard, I know I wouldn't know how to appreciate one. If and when we do have the privilege, I promise you, it will be cherished.

And now I'm curious. Do YOU have a backyard? Is it big or small? Do you wish you had more or less? Do you use it or neglect it? Do you think owning or renting makes a difference to how you use your outdoor space? 


And most importantly... do you have a trampoline and are you home on Friday?


*Aussie slang for a poor substitute or imitation