#1307 Dancing disco shoes

Nothing could go wrong… could it?

I mean it was a kids disco party. The primary school was separated by age for goodness sakes. Prep to grade 2 the first part of the afternoon, with the older kids into the evening.

Having choc tops available would not be a bad thing, right?

All that sugar, only to be let loose when the chicken dance came on… nah. πŸ“πŸ₯

At the end of the week. Almost, at the end of term.

The kids are tired. They didn’t want holidays… they needed holidays.

And it wasn’t just a normal Friday…

It was Friday the 13th, Friday. πŸ‘»

ON A FULL MOON. πŸŒ•

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Oh gawd.

I’m having fun here guys. As did baby girl this afternoon. The only time where I ate my words, was after commenting to several other Mums how all our kids would be as high as kites and hitting walls when the disco was done.

Not realising that my own child would be in tears as we walked off…

Because she didn’t get to buy a bloody glow stick.

(Shakes head).

“I’ll buy you a glow stick tomorrow!”

I had to laugh. I did. It was full moon time after all.

And I was still pretty happy to see her so excited, at her first ever school disco. πŸ₯ΏπŸ“ΏπŸŽ‰

 

 

#1177 Changing plans

A day where you end up where you didn’t expect, is honestly as good as a holiday.

Away from the routine. Away from the housework. Away from the same old same old, blah blah blah.

Do it on a school/work night, and shock horror… “you are doing what on a Monday night?” (no less)… tee hee hee. πŸ™‚

Imagine you thought you were going to end up in one place (uh, home?) and then, the night brought you to another location?

With family. Cousins.

And vanilla slice.

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Yep, it is that vanilla slice AGAIN. Any day that ends in vanilla slice, good company and a change of scenery, is happy times for me.

(Don’t forget the coffee).

#1109 MMM-bopping along

Today, my 13 year-old self would have been really happy with me.

She would have been rapt. Delighted. Screaming “yes yes yes!” and punching her fists into the sky in frenzied delight.

It would have been far from the typical teenage scene of sulking, crying and whinging to no end. Which is what I did, when I found out I couldn’t see Hanson when they were scheduled to come to a shopping centre appearance back in 1997.

Granted I couldn’t go because I was heading overseas. It kinda didn’t occur to my parents when they booked the European tickets, that a short time later I would be completely obsessed and enthralled with all things HANSON.

But nonetheless, I locked myself up in the toilet and b-a-w-l-e-d.

Ahhh, 13 year-olds. I never did get the opportunity to see them elsewhere during my Hanson-phase, and after several years, I moved onto obsessing over other artists.

But I thought of that girl as I arrived at the Palais Theatre tonight.

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Here we finally were.

22 years after the fact. 22! I observed 30 and 40-somethings arriving in pairs and groups, older now, with more responsibilities, more life experience. Many pregnant. Occasional males accompanied their once manic partners, and I had to think of how committed they were to be joining them tonight… I also thought back to how I would have been if I were seeing them in the height of their fame… the height of my obsession!

“I LOVE YOU TAYLOR!”

Surely I would have screamed out those words, only to be drowned by other fanatical girls clawing and reaching for the front stage eager to get them a piece of the trio of brothers from Tulsa Oklahoma.

And yet tonight, in the crowd of girls who had lived through the last two decades, I still heard it.

“I love you Zac!”

Oh man. Some women were still pining.Β 

Tonight was therefore an amazing experience. I bopped along and listened at the back of the stalls, taking in the orchestra and instrumental notes, the voices that had matured well since then, grown into their own… and I reminisced.

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It is a lovely thing to reminisce.

It brought me an appreciation of them, beyond the teenage fan phase, beyond the blonde hair, beyond the high notes, beyond the posters…

I felt the authenticity, the music, and their passion. It was a truly great night, and you know what? I might just have to see them again next time they come.

I clapped. I watched intently. I listened to the instruments and observed carefully how one song blended into the next. The drums, piano, guitar. I tried to take it all in.

I think I’m coming full circle. I think I’m becoming a real fan. β™₯

#1080 The day before prep

I didn’t think I would be too bad. We even bought school shoes this morning and everything, and yet no overwhelming emotion struck me at what the next day held…

I thought, ‘I am going to be ok.’

It didn’t hit me, until I was at the Coles check out.

Baby girl started to squirm and bounce around a little, and before I verbalised the feared signs I knew so well, she told me she needed the loo.

I had just unloaded all our shopping onto the conveyor belt. There was a lady being served in front of me, but she was with her elderly mother who was in a wheelchair, and had groceries of her own she was paying for, and was then divvying up her mother’s groceries, so that it was taking some time for the check out guy to work it all out.

I hesitated. For a moment, I questioned…

‘Should I let her go to the toilets alone?’

It was a mini shopping centre we frequented weekly, if not more often. Baby girl knew where they were. She wouldn’t get lost, surely.

But there were so many people that day. It was packed, being the last day of holidays for so many… Mums and Dads and kids and grannies and grandads, all milling around like chains and locks were going to be wrapped around the shopping centre’s entrance the next day.

I pondered it, for a few moments. I even asked baby girl how she felt about going on her own.

But then I realised, strongly. HELL NO. She was 5. Regardless of that… I could not let her go.

I explained to the check out guy I had to take baby girl to the toilets, and amazingly we were back in time as the two ladies finished up and he started setting up my reusable bags.

But the grocery shopping, or the toilets, wasn’t EVEN the point.

I was suddenly filled with anxiety, dread, fear and paranoia, all at once.

I could not let her go… but I had to.

I saw that the contemplation of letting her go a couple hundred metres on her own, had filled me with such unease, but it was a situation that was completely unavoidable.

Because at one stage or another, I had to let her go. And suddenly, my time was up.

Because tomorrow is the start of prep.

Most of the day has been spent preparing for it. In between ironing on labels to her school clothes, I’ve spent the other moments just staring at her with a frozen smile, willing her face at that time into my memory forever.

Setting up her lunchbox and bag, and then playing with her, letting her drag it out for another minute, then another minute…

Telling her how proud we are of her…

And then bursting into tears the next minute.

Get a grip! I told myself. You are picking her up at 12:30! After the half-days, you will still be together from 3:30!

But I can’t kid myself. It’s not just the time. It’s the beautiful moments shared. The slow wake-ups together, the kisses and cuddles in bed… her asking me what the plans are for the day, and me surprising her with promises of babycino cafΓ© visits or the beach.

It’s all the little moments. It’s not even anything momentous or eventful. It’s the everyday occurrences, which will be replaced by routine, and order, and responsibility…

And she will be exposed to people, environments, and things that I can not control.

It scares me.

I am excited by what is to come for her, for us… really I am.

But I am so afraid, that the innocence in her that I have loved, and nurtured, and seen thrive… will be lost.

Will she change? Will she be the same?

What will this new life stage bring?

So much happiness has come before us, and I am terrified it will end.

Friendships might change her.

Harsh truths will be learnt.

Tears will be shed.

And I am freaking out about it all.

I don’t even know how this is a gratitude post, other than to say this day before prep, was a beautiful one. Telling each other how much we love one another… and now the tears won’t stop rolling, so I think it’s time I go.

Wish me her luck.

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#1079 January family bonding

Let’s squeeze one more family day trip in before the holidays end, shall we?

That was the thought as we headed down to the luxurious RACV Cape Schanck Resort to meet my parents and sister and fam, 2 days before baby girl is set to start prep.

PREP.

(Eeeek!)

It was a magical day. Did we need a reason for it? Other than Summer, holidays and family love? Nah. Well we had it though. An after-present from my Mum’s 70th late last year, and a timely silver anniversary celebration for my sister and bro-in-law.

We spent the day, doing what we do BEST.

Eating.

Drinking.

Bonding.

Making memories. πŸ™‚

Oh, and of course swimming.

We enjoyed the stunning views, and vowed, like all the times, that we WILL be back again…

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β™₯β™₯β™₯β™₯

It was a perfect day. πŸ™‚

#1062 Mills Beach Love no. 2

There is nothing quite like seeing the grass on the other side of the fence, to truly appreciate how green and lush your patch is.

And I ain’t talking about actual grass here people. Because in actuality ours is patchy and burnt in some areas, too much dirt in others, with weird varieties of I don’t know, ‘tree’ or ‘bush’ trying to come up in random parts of our lawn.

What I am really talking about here, is the beach.

We’ve just come back from our little getaway to the other side of the Peninsula, and although I have already said it, what with going away helping us to really appreciate all that we have here…

Can I just say, our beach is THE BEST?

Here are the ways in which WE loved it today.

Shallow waters, for the kiddies to spend heaps of time lounging and splashing in. Hell, if they go for a bolt they will still be within small waters, as it stretches out for ages!

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The clarity. Oh my. Seeing all that seaweed on our ‘private beach’ earlier this week, well I think we temporarily forgot what a normal and clean beach looks like. And it looks bloody unreal.

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The weather. It was high 20s as midday approached, making it the ideal temperature (I know the beach didn’t make this happen, but it added to overall beach satisfaction πŸ˜‰ ).

And just, the views. The sweeping coastline of this very-busy-today yet still somehow secluded beach made it a sight for sore eyes.

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The best beach day to conclude our family holidays together… but. hold on.Β 

When you live by the beach, it is always a holiday, true? πŸ™‚

 

#1060 There’s no place like home

Two nights ago, I took this shot:

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And tonight, it was this one.

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The former, being the exotic one. Away on holiday. Sipping a red wine in the fading sunset of exquisite pink and purple skies.

Ahhh.

And the latter, being the familiar one. From the windows of our bedroom. A place I have stood and snapped away at time and time again.

Well-known. Recognisable. Common to the eye.

And you know which one I was most happiest at…

We were most happiest with…

The view from my bedroom window.

Although at first our time away was an incredible experience, and one that will always remain strongly in our minds… once the aura of off-beaten tracks and sweeping coastlines wore off, we were left longing for our home.

Our small getaway has taught us one thing: we have everything we need behind our front door. Comfortable beds, locks on the bathroom door, adequate reception (!!!)…

And views. We have views too.

And we are so much happier at home… despite a raised balcony amidst a private beach and ALL.

And that is mostly because home, is where our hearts lie. πŸ’—πŸ’—πŸ’—