#1426 The city trip

We easily could have had a crap day.

We had a few difficult starts that could have turned us sour.

Like the train station parking.

There wasn’t any.

As it was we couldn’t take our regular line into the city because there were replacement buses at certain stops…

And if you have ever had to take a replacement bus in, you will understand why we never ever want to take a replacement bus EVER AGAIN.

So we tried to jump on another train line.

But every car park was full.

We were on holiday time… but the rest of the world was not.

It was a Friday you see. Business hours applied.

We went to one station, couldn’t find parking, before driving up to the next one trying to get lucky.

We did this at three stations before I said “let’s just drive in.”

I remembered the car park I’d gone to with baby girl when we had our Andy show for the last school holidays.

And we just happened to take the scenic route there.

Boy did it bring back memories.

We were driving along Beach Rd in St Kilda, and I was looking at the palm trees, at the houses facing the water…

AND IT HIT ME.

I remembered going there with Hubbie way before baby girl was around, and how we’d look up at the houses and admire them saying “imagine living here by the beach? Imagine that?”

Well we didn’t live by that beach, but now we lived close to a beach.

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All of a sudden our unplanned drive in was becoming a whole lot more.

We arrived at our car parking destination about 2 hours from when we set off. All the pausing and going from one station to the next and then looking for parking had taken ages.

We could have been cranky. We could have been pissed. Instead we stepped out of the old building, so known to us, and went ‘ahhh’ as the humidity of the day hit us and we spied THAT familiar street.

Lygon street. Our old stomping ground.

Oh wow. We were walking and telling baby girl everything. “Mummy and Daddy used to come here all the time… we used to go there… then we would go there… we’ve been there… look that’s changed!”

It was amazing as all the feelings came flooding back. It was a place that at one time in our life we frequented like twice a week… then it changed to once. LOL. We went there so much the trip there was permanently engrained in our minds. The twists and turns of the street, the best parking spots, and who did the best pasta and steak.

(Not necessarily from the pricey side, and if you know Lygon street you know which side of the street that is 😉 )

We stopped to eat lunch at a place we had before, and looking up and down at the greenery on either side of us, I grew misty-eyed.

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I had a revelation.

I even said it aloud: “I could see myself living here.”

Hubbe was shocked. It was a big thing for me to say that. Me, SmikG, so rapt with the beachside that I couldn’t imagine anywhere else.

I clarified… “I love where we live… but one day, maybe in 20 years, I could imagine living here.”

The memories. Oh the MEMORIES! Even sitting at that table, I was reminded that we had sat at that very café and at that very table and had a coffee, right before going on a little trip together pre-baby girl… I reminded Hubbie and he said “Yes, I remember!”

“Where were we going again?”

After throwing out some names which weren’t right, he said it was at a spot on the Peninsula.

FACE PALM. Where we live NOW.

The symmetry was freaking me out.

Lygon Street made me feel right at home. From the bear-shaped pizza for baby girl and the handmade gnocchi for me that melted in my mouth, I was in heaven. I’ve always said I was Italian in another life. I am more than confident of it after today.

We shared a coffee after our tram trek into the city-centre, where I had the most delicious and iconic Melbourne themed chocolate…

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Before we went to where we had planned to all along.

A children’s theatre show.

It was Room on the Broom, a production based off the iconic Australian children’s book. It was a present to baby girl for Christmas after we saw how enthralled in the book she was last year… and so that was the point of our whole trek in.

We did so much before that to get there, and it had been an adventure.

The show in itself was another great adventure.

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But then like so many times before, shit hit the fan.

Baby girl wanted merchandise. A tiny $40 stuffed toy witch, or a $25 stuffed toy cat.

I shouldn’t even mention the money. The money doesn’t matter. It was the principle.

She has LOADS of stuffed toys. Do you think she plays with them?

Noooooooooooooooooooooo.

She started the hysterics. The tantrum built. Cries and shrieks. “No I want it!” Stamping of the foot. It is almost hilarious if it ISN’T happening to you.

We’d done so much to get there. Spent so much. Travelled so far.

And now THIS.

I looked outside the open doors as she cried behind us. People crowded through the foyer, some looking over and others dealing with their own demanding brood.

I could see it – gone was the humidity that had enveloped me during my delicious Pomodoro gnocchi as I sweated it out at 1pm…

Because now at 4pm, it was windy and raining and people were getting drenched outside.

I put my foot down figuratively, told her “NO!” and stomped outside.

And instead of –

“But how the witch wailed

And how the cat spat

When the wind blew so widely

It blew off the hat.” – 

It was –

“How baby girl wailed 

And how her Mum spat

As the wind blew so widely

and her Mum yelled ‘that’s that!'”

LOL.

She cried as we pulled her along through the rain, pelting down on us as we ran towards our tram stop.

“You don’t need another stuffed toy!”

“Yes I do!”

“No you don’t!”

“Yes I do!”

“No you don’t!”

And as we ran, our feet sploshing through puddles and water sinking through our sandals, our arguing turned into banter, and the water on her face was suddenly from the rain, not her tears, as baby girl started to laugh.

“Yes I do!”

We got some much appreciated shelter from a woman holding an umbrella as we waited to cross the road, and within moments, all was well again.

The wild weather could have thrown us off.

The tantrum, the crying and yelling could have put us in a real sour mood.

But it didn’t.

And all of a sudden, we were full circle in our feelings again. 🙂

It was one of those weird days where it was a little bit of everything, but mostly a lot of fun and crazy.

We didn’t let anything unexpected throw us off our main task of having fun, whether it was a long drive, no parking, wild weather or a demanding 6 year old…

Our task was to make memories, with the added bonus of reminiscing past memories.

It was a happy day. ♥

 

 

 

 

#1384 The best day for a kids party

Parents, HOLD YOUR HORSES.

I have now discovered the best day and time of week to hold a kids birthday party.

I know, because I went to one myself… this afternoon.

Friday afternoon. ;););)

At first when I got the invite I was like “Friday? Okay…”

But then the idea grew on me. Sure it was soon after they finished school. Sure, it meant we had to quickly change/snack/get ready before said-birthday party.

And sure, all the fairy bread/lollies/cake/sugar they ingested meant they would have no kind of normal dinner at all when they got home later…

But it is Friday after all peeps.

You know why a Friday afternoon birthday party is so good?

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Kids are already in the swing of it. Sure it’s the end of the week, but starting it so soon after the school day has done means that they just keep going on and on and on.

Don’t worry that they can’t keep going. They will keep going for cake alright.

Then, they come home pooped, high as a kite… not on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon, in effect either ruining the rest of the day/weekend and setting themselves for a massive sugar downer as they soon start the school week again…

No. They come home on a Friday evening, RUINED, and then…

Sleep it off.

And then the weekend begins the next morning.

Brilliant.

Kids are happy and have a full weekend. Parents are even more happy as they don’t need to sacrifice their precious and limited weekend time to drive their kids to a party, because we all know once they come home they are manic from high-energy games, candy and madness, meaning they will do their own thing and be quite frankly, a nightmare.

But this all gets slept away after a Friday afternoon.

(I’m not saying I’m going to do this for baby girl but I still think it’s fantastic).

😉

#1356 My tribe is sweeter than pie

You know what great friends are?

It is walking out of a restaurant with them on a Friday night, and discovering they are all parked that way ⬅️ , while you are parked a 6 minute walk that way. ➡️

And they all without hesitation or having to look at one another say “we’ll walk you.”

Friendship is like a flower.

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A bit like the flower in my dessert tonight. Exotic, pretty and delicate, precious and sweet.

People think it is easy to make friends. Sure the ‘making’ is easy. Making good ones that last, is the hard bit.

That’s why great friends are so special.

They are exotic, in their ability to transport you to another place and time with their words.

They are pretty, in that their insides match their outsides, as the more you bond, the more you open up to one another… and the more beautiful they become in their honesty.

Delicate, because friendship is such, a powerful thing to behold but also a tender thing to break.

Precious because it is a treasure to find good friends! When you find them, don’t let them go.

And lastly, friendship is so, so sweet. But unlike the sickly sweetness of my banoffee desert where I just had to stop it was too much, friendship is exactly the opposite.

It is so sweet, that it is never enough.

I’ve realised that lately. I’ve been thinking a lot about my tribe. Those people in your life that fill you up with their presence. You leave their company, filled to the brim, your well of water full of their goodness, happiness, love and support.

It makes you feel alive. It makes you feel inspired, revitalised, like you can take on the world.

And yet you can never have enough.

I had a good think about my tribe the other day. And I realised with no surprise, that my oldest school friends were firmly on the list.

And they are sweeter than any dessert pie. 🥧

 

 

 

#1342 Dancing in the kitchen with my loves part 9

I had about 75 dishes and forms of cutlery to wash after dinner tonight. It was Friday, but yet I was feeling flat.

So I walked up to the stereo. Set the input to CD. And adjusted the volume to 13.

Soon…

“Mama,” Freddie Mercury’s bohemian voice soon came floating out of the speakers.

Baby girl gasped beside me. Smiled in awe.

My 6 year-old getting excited over a Queen song? Why, I never. 🙂

Before the second line had even finished, she held her hand out towards me. “Dance partner?” she teased.

“Oh honey, I can’t, Mummy has too many dishes…” as soon as I said the words I realised how ridiculous they sounded. I dropped the tea towel and joined her on the floor, as we waltzed, spun each other around, did spins and ballet poses and skipped, as well as a hefty dose of HEAD BANGING.

Once the song was over, I returned to my dishes. They hadn’t gone anywhere. But that moment, and that song had.

Thank God I took advantage of it 🙂

#1335 To market, to market

Until I moved here, I didn’t realise how much I enjoyed one very particular thing.

MARKETS. On the Mornington Peninsula, they are abundant in their offerings.

They happen all the time. Every weekend you will find a market happening somewhere. There are seasonal markets, monthly market, and even weekly markets.

The Mornington Wednesday Market occurs on the Main Street every hump day, rain hail or shine.

The Mt Eliza Farmers Market is held on the 4th Sunday of each month.

And then you’ll find something like the Emu Plains Market in Balnarring, open once-monthly on Saturdays through the warmer months, and then hibernates their stalls, food trucks and jumping castle, over Winter.

So many markets. 

There are specialty markets that appear at the same time each year, and there are also new markets being created ALL THE TIME.

I personally, love it.

And yet I nearly missed today’s one. Thank God for social media. Facebook gave me a reminder last night, and so after picking up baby girl from school, we freshened up at home before heading down the road to the –

Soul Market. Yep.

This one is held once, maybe twice yearly. It’s a smaller venue, but so close to us, that if I knew I wouldn’t have to drag a tired baby girl home once all was looked at and oohed and ahhed, we could have a really good walk up and back from there.

We walked the rooms, shared some twisted potatoes, and enjoyed the fact, that hell, it was Friday.

For a small market, it was really high in quality with what I was presented with. I saw a lot of beautiful and special things, and, I couldn’t help myself…

I bought things. 🤭

Can you blame me? I happened across a row of Vintage dresses with the price tag of $25 tagged on the top of the clothes rack, and then I spied a really cute and fun dress, and a familiar tag…

Alannah Hill.

For $25???

I didn’t even try it on. I put it on later at home. 😉

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And that other item there? Natural deodorant. I have seen these things around lately in many forms and brands, and so when I saw the lovely lady there with pamphlets in hand and ready to offer demonstrations (and apply all the different kinds to my skin, now that is personal service!) I was more than ready to buy.

It was a nice and slow afternoon wind-down, a wind-down from this week, this month, and this cold weather…

And to think, I could possibly do it all again, as soon as this Sunday.

Because it’s the Mornington Racecourse Market. 🤷‍♀️🤣

#1328 Jenga

As I said before, the stars and the sun aligned for us this week.

We picked the right days to be out and about. Bright, sunny, sunshine-y days.

Today it was a grey, rainy and dark day. Well-timed, as we had done all our outdoorsy adventures already.

We stayed inside, indoors.

And then tonight. The perfect family Friday night activity.

A GAME.

“Family!” I had called out from the lounge room where I was arranging the blocks. “I have a surprise!”

Hubbie and baby girl ran in, trying to beat the other into the room. Baby girl won.

“Jenga!” she cried.

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Hubbie will tell you that I asked for this as a present one year… like a gazillion years ago.  And he will also tell you that after I got it, it proceeded to sit in our spare room, unopened and unused, for years and years.

All the while I told him, one day we would play it loads.

That one day started today.

And for the record… Hubbie pulled out the block that sent them all crashing down tonight.

Mwa ha ha. Crashing down… like his Jenga doubts 😉