#654 Mills Beach Love… and the ‘true story’ behind the photos

There is a whole other side to the sweet, loving and idyllic photos that people post so often on social media.

And that definitely includes MINE.

I generally do post more happy stuff… I used to sometimes rant about something that might annoy me, and only after reading other rants on facebook, did I realise it was really unnecessary, and negative-drawing. I didn’t really feel much better about myself, my life, or that person when I read such quotes, and it made me realise that stuff like that was not needed online.

Not to confuse a day-to-day ‘I’m so pissed at the traffic today’ rant with a serious issue that needs attention and addressing. No that is fine, pull ALL the support and help from ALL the social media outlets, and gather the troops around as much as you need with your furious words. We need your PASSION.

So, I do post occasionally about our day-to-day lives, more so when we are doing something fun – I mean, does anyone wanna see us sitting on the couch in our pjs eating breakfast and watching Shimmer and Shine? Yeah I thought not.

shimmer and shine

But the story behind the photo often runs so much deeper, it travels something like an episode of Mr. Bean, it can be that frustratingly hilarious and stupid.

Take TODAY. Perfect example.

It was hot, and we went to the beach. I posted a photo of Hubbie and baby girl… for certain reasons I will not repeat that photo here, but instead here is another:

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You get my drift. Relaxation, fun in the sun, blue waters, chilling in the shade as I watch my family in the water…

Good times…

??? Or not?

Here is the REAL story. Because yes I am grateful we went to one of our favourite beaches today as a family on one of our few days off together, but seriously… we were ALL nearly crying at various stages.

Firstly, we got there late. 3:30pm, and this was after we stopped at Baker’s for some bread rolls, and Hubbie got a cheap knife from Woolies (more on that later) because he had forgotten to bring one from home, and then because he had a couple of beers for himself, he was ever so kind, through the 30+ degree heat of the day, to head over to the nearby Dan Murphy’s to get me some kind of mixed drink.

Hubbie and I hadn’t had lunch. Baby girl was the only fed one.

Arriving at the hottest time of the day with several bags, 3 beach chairs, a folded up tent, towels, and walking about in the hot sand when we were hungry and starving, is trying enough.

But we did it. We set up the tent, almost stuffing it up (but we made it!) and then I just launched into the water where baby girl was already playing, sitting down immediately it was that bloody beautifully warm.

So, all good. I headed back to the tent where Hubbie was getting some stuff ready, applying sunscreen for himself, etc etc… I went to get the drink Hubbie got for me.

Rekorderlig is not paying me but I won’t say no if they come knocking. 

So I found this cider and I was like “yes!” as it’s been ages since I had one. I went to open it up, looking at him questioningly as I said “screw top?”

“Yeah,” he replied casually, at the same time looking over to the bottle in my hand and his face dropping. Because he just realised that it is in fact NOT a screw top, and it required a bottle opener.

Damn.

I sighed. I hadn’t eaten, Hubbie was getting crankier by the second, I could just feel the waves of irritation blowing off of him, and now we had no opener.

I wanted a bloody drink.

“We have one in the car,” he said, and I relaxed somewhat.

The way I am obsessed about tissue boxes being in every part of the house, scissors and nail clippers and nail filers being both upstairs and downstairs, he is a total fuss-pot and needs to have bottle openers scattered everywhere, house, car and probably his pants, because, IN CASE.

“Can you put some sunscreen on my back?” I asked him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Is that before or after you want me to get the bottle opener and make your lunch?”

I ignored him and smiled. “Yes now.” But we were already getting to that point.

So he went and got the bottle opener. I had a drink, and took the above photo. Fine. I joined him and baby girl in the shallow waters, and we splashed about. Also good. And then he went back to the tent to make my lunch.

Now, I didn’t tell him to make my lunch. We had previously decided on grabbing some of those spinach and cheese/pizza rolls at Baker’s as it was a quick and easy bite especially when we were at the beach. I would have made a pasta salad and brought it with us if our stove was connected – our house and kitchen area is still a mess. So this is what I was thinking, this is what we even said out loud to each other… but then this dude of mine, somehow decided that it would be easier, to buy plain rolls at Baker’s, and then fill them… himself…

You know what he brought with him? Tuna, feta, and tomato. On a 34 degree day amidst SAND.

MORE on that debacle later.

Meanwhile, baby girl and I were in the water. It was amazing, and we were having a ball. I kept asking her, “do you have to go pee?” because I was just getting this vibe off her, I know her so well. She was saying no, so I would let the topic go, but then she’d pipe up “I don’t have to go pee.”

When she says she doesn’t have to go pee, I KNOW she HAS to go and pee.

I finally convinced her to go and pee before coming back. “I promise honey, we are coming back, I wouldn’t lie to you.” She took my hand and off we went.

Now, this is a purely female thing, and I say this because I told Hubbie and he had no idea… but after being in the water for a bit, when us chicks have to pee later, sometimes the urine comes out warm. I know, I’m sorry, using words like URINE and all, bad enough I’m saying PEE. I think it has something to do with our nether-regions being all cold, and our urine isn’t actually warm, it’s our parts that our cold, therefore our urine feels warm.

Enough explanation, if anyone actually knows, please advise in the comments below.

I sat baby girl on the toilet seat, and waited. She immediately yelled “ouch!” and started to whinge/cry. I ascertained that it was her pee, as she has reacted a bit like that before, but not so strongly. I was telling her, comforting her and saying “it’s just a bit warm, everything is ok, it’s not that bad,” but then she suddenly wasn’t peeing – she was holding on – and I was getting worried/upset. Worried because it is not good to hold in your pee (being a Mum shit like this scares you as kids can easily develop infections) but also upset because it is NOT THAT BAD AND SHE IS BEING A DRAMA QUEEN.

For at least 5 minutes I stayed with her in the loo as she got upset at not peeing/holding it in. I tried to console her, then I played bad cop and was like “we’ll go home if you don’t go toilet, you have to go!” But she was STILL upset and said “go home.”

Go home? This girl LOVES the water! Something must not have been right if she was happy to go home.

I got her out of there, REALLY mad. I stomped/limped across the hot sand, baby girl limping too behind me, as we got to Hubbie…

slaving away in the tent.

“I am not happy!” I told him, proceeding to go on about how she wouldn’t ‘go,’ but she had to ‘go,’ but she was holding it in. I told him that we were going home. You know… reverse psychology?

And he went “yeah let’s go… it’s been a shit day.”

?!?!

He continued. “I’m never doing this again!” He had his newly-bought $3 knife, wrappers, a plastic bag as a rubbish bin, food and tins and all kinds of crumbs all around him, and he was SWEATING. “I’m here making YOUR sandwich, it’s a mess, I’m hot, it’s at least 10 degrees hotter in this tent…”

Meanwhile, I was trying SO damn hard to keep my cool. I ended up convincing baby girl to try and pee in the grass behind the beach boxes, as maybe the novelty would help her relax.

Nope. Instead I ended up with something that resembled a small leech on my leg that wouldn’t come off until I scratched it off, and off we went back to the tent, MORE MAD/SAD.

I pretty much ordered her to stay in there, and not move until she went to the loo first. She resigned herself to this, and I sat down to eat this God-damn roll Hubbie had prepared for me, as he sooked and moaned. He pushed the side of the tent away from him as a sudden strong breeze blew the tent wall against him, swearing loudly, and a nearby girl looked over at us as she heard it.

We are European-descendants people. We don’t swear/argue in public. How EMBARRASSMENT. I unleashed.

“Can you fix your f*&king attitude? Honestly all day today, can you just look at yourself? Did I ask you to make me a bloody sandwich, NO, I don’t know what is wrong with you, who brings tuna and feta and a tomato they have to cut at the beach?! There is sand everywhere!”

Like, what the actual fuck.

He went quiet, as I went quiet, chomping on this odd combo of tuna/feta/tomato that somehow worked in a seriously strange way which I would NEVER TELL HIM, picking out the chilli piece in the tuna that he FORGOT TO REMOVE.

Baby girl chomped on a bread roll, Hubbie just sat, and in a few minutes I was back in the water, trying to make her all jelly that she wasn’t allowed to go in. Mean parental tactics maybe, but I was trying to prevent an infection damn it!

In the end, this stubborn girl (wonder where she gets that from?) won. Hubbie ‘let’ her come down to the water, and though I contested it at first, I let it go.

Just like Elsa. LET IT GO.

frozen-let-it-go-photo

 

Which leads me to this next pic.

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Don’t they look serene? Isn’t the water just so sparkling and magical? Oh the joy to go to the beach with your family? Oh, WHAT LOVE! ♥♥

?!?!

You see? You see the shit we had to go through? Hubbie swearing against the tent, the beach, the weather, the sand, about ALL MANNER OF SHIT, baby girl refusing to take a shit or anything else for that matter, and then me, trying to hold the insanity together, and trying so damn hard to ‘think positive.’

:):):)

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Not f*&king easy! :):):)

Yes, we did end up having a really great day, eventually… we were kind of like an overseas commercial at one stage, the one promoting the family having an awesome time on a beach getaway as they all go crazy splashing each other and laughing like mad. We were so Hawaii.  But don’t get too jelly, because when we got home, we were tired and cranky, ate dinner late, Hubbie was a yo-yo as his mood swung from relieved to cranky to funny to shitty, and I was there like

“WTF?”

Both my babes are sleeping now so I love them sooo much. But before.

Before…

Just a reminder that not all things are as they appear in the photos. I still love Mills Beach. I loved our day together. But I think I could have done without the Mr. Bean dramas…

And closure for those keeping score. I realised once we were much happier later on in the afternoon that there is an opening at the back of the tent that can be zipped open, allowing cool air to waft through, keeping it at the same temp as outside. Hear that Hubbie?

And baby girl held her pee in until she got home… and then went normally.

So I actually don’t know what was wrong earlier, or what in fact happened. Much like ALL OF MOTHERHOOD.

 

 

 

 

 

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#627 Plaits

The mornings are usually a rush. Even though baby girl is not yet in primary school, we are usually somehow rushing for something.

But in these hectic moments, furtive glances towards the clock, and agonising begging for baby girl to “just sit down,” there is a time-consuming activity that slows us both

A-l-l  T-h-e  W-a-y  R-i-g-h-t  D-o-w-n.

It’s when I sit to do her plaits.

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She likes when I do two plaits for her, like the character Anna from Frozen. And today was no less an exception, since it was dress-up day at kinder, and who should she choose to dress up as of course?

None other than the fiery freckled brunette with plaits.

I realise often as I’m doing this activity, that we both pause, and go very still. And it has less to do with the fact that I actually need her still, and more that we are in this beautiful moment, where she is allowing me to get to work, and I am relishing the crazy, busy, and yet so so precious moment where she is dependant on me to make her hair all pretty. Where I can help her, and she needs, and wants my help.

I remember the days when my Mum would do my hair (my Dad even took to the task a few times when Mum was not around!) and I see with clarity how fleeting, and transitory life really is.

And so I sit there. I ignore the clock. I divide her hair into parts. She goes quiet.

And we sit in this moment of Plait-itude.

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#624 Motherly Moments no. 4

I am chatting to Hubbie on the couch.

Correction. I am trying to chat to Hubbie on the couch.

Baby girl is all over me. Holding my face, trying to get me to look at her and only her. “Mama, mama, mama,” she repeats, hogging my line of vision, while I try to look past her and continue on with our conversation.

“One second baby girl.”

“Mama, mama, mama,” she continues.

We somewhat manage to end the topic. I look at her, actively focusing in. “What?”

“Mama, I love you too much.”

Awwwww.

“Princess, I love you too much.”

“I love you MORE.”

Why does she always win at this game?!?!?!

I smile and hug her tightly. “Actually sweetheart, I think I love YOU more.”

clem-onojeghuo-207467

Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash

#617 The stage she is at, 4.2

It occurred to me today as baby girl and I walked hand in hand into the local shopping centre to do some grocery shopping, that I am really enjoying the stage baby girl is at.

It comes to reason that parents should always be enjoying ALL the stages their kids go through. True, true. However each stage comes with it its own unique successes as it does its own circumstantial tribulations, and though the younger years are dominated by innocence and naivety of the world, the older ones are shadowed with development, awareness and coming-of-age real world issues.

Each stage is beautiful, though at the time as parents, we probably wanna bang our heads against the wall, more often than not. But, I think I have found a pretty cool age with baby girl at the moment…

She listens. Most of the time. She’s at the age where she listens when I say “hold my hand” as we are heading through a car park, and if she stamps her foot down and says “no,” because she is holding a mini Lego piece, a Shopkin toy or a kinder surprise, I tell her to stick ‘right next to me,’ and she happily complies. I know she will be good, and I know I can trust her.

She listens when I bargain with her too. “We can’t do that now, but I promise you, sometime next week we will come back for a babycino and I’ll let you play there for 20 minutes!”

“YAY! Thank you so much Mama!”

And that leads me to the next thing. She is very easily made happy. Everything amuses her, everything is fun, everything is exciting. The sight of her old fave stuffed toy makes her squeal with delight before holding it close to her chest in a bear-hug, I tell her her Dad is coming home for lunch and she starts sprinting around the house in anticipation… and then, there is PASTA.

The fireworks that begin when the girl realises she is having her fave carb for dinner, I can’t even begin to explain. “Yippees!” “Woo hoos!” jumping up and down and saying things like “best in the whole world” are just some of the catch phrases when she sits down to this. It’s the adult equivalent of winning the lottery, I kid you not.

The phrases too. I say “Dad is at work today,” and she responds with “Oh, come home now. Best friend Dad.” (Awww).

She got further brownie points by saying “Mummy Daddy in my heart.” Girl you want a Ferrari for your next birthday or something? Damn, the heart strings!

And then I close/open the car window as she wishes and she says “yeah, good job Mama.” Big LOLS when she congratulates me on a job well done.

And then there are her food requests. “Mama do banana, no blueberry, no strawberry – ” making sure I get her morning weetbix order right. She’ll be hassling waiters with her food requirements in no time.

She thrives on responsibility. She helps me wipe the water from her trampoline after it rains, she insists on putting items into the shopping trolley, and if I just mention the word ‘help,’ she is immediately at beck and call, on duty, set to impress, and more than ready for all the accolades that follow.

There’s a lot of innocence, a lot of fun, and a lot of laughter at a stage like this one. She is young and carefree enough to not be worried about the ‘real world,’ yet still old enough to be able to go to the toilet on her own, brush her teeth, and even put toilet paper rolls in the toilet when I ask her to.

All of the above happened today, and though I scratch my head at times thinking ‘where did the day go?’ when I look back like I did today, to see the memorable moments making it up, it all comes flooding back to me.

The day went with my lovely 4 year old girl.

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#604 Shopping with my girl no.6

Yes, material things were bought today. But none that stand out, even close, amongst the heart-warming, funny and charming moments I had with my baby girl.

She held my hand without question and skipped with me through the car park as we headed into the centre, pointing out all the different coloured cars around us.

As we had a bite to eat, she sat on my lap so I could help her with her food, turning to me and kissing and hugging me tenderly as I did so.

As we left the food court, she saw some ice creams with lollies advertised in a Wendy’s: she turned to me, and did her whole routine – “Mama, Mama, Mama, stop, stop, stop. No babycino, coffee, Mama have ice cream, me have ice cream!”

I actually died laughing, walking off and assuring her that yes, coffee would most definitely be had, and we would come back with her Dad and have ice cream all together another time.

And then later as we were having said coffee with sweets, and I pulled out my phone to take some snapshots of my darling girl enjoying her babycino, she pulled one of her adorable

I-am-so-cute-but-cheeky-too-and-I-know-you-still-love-me faces:

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Argh, this girl. She makes me so happy. She is at a stage where outings with her like this have become easier, and even, are enjoyable. We never stopped going out at any phase of her ‘toddler growth,’ but I have to say, being the stage and age she is at, she just gets things more. She listens more. She needs less coaxing and prodding, there are less arguments and tantrums, and much more happy faces while sucking on chocolate-y spoons like the above.

It’s a beautiful stage, and the precious moments from today I will hold with me dearly forever.

I still have my frustrating, want-to-bang-my-head-against-the-wall moments at night when she won’t go to bed, but as in Life, always, BALANCE.

Glass half-full gal tries to focus on the positives. And there are A LOT of them.

You should too 😉

 

#596 Motherly Moments no. 3

I am tucking her into bed. Both her, and her stuffed toy version of Lah Lah.

“Good night Mama, best friend in the WHOLE world.”

Bang. Grabs my heart. Wins the daily gratitude game with just 9 words.

As are you baby girl. Always and forever. ♥♥♥

#593 Stupid time-wasters…

I feel soooo guilty.

I actually don’t have all that much time to spend doing what I wanna do. I am constantly in a state of ‘must-write,’ and yet having a little girl and a part-time job, a fussy (yet so lovable) Hubbie, and constant 24 hour responsibilities OF LIFE, mean I don’t get to write as much as, or when, I’d like to.

I don’t even get to watch the TV shows I love. My Foxtel planner is currently full of 50+ unwatched Bold and the Beautiful eps, and the only reason I get to watch the current season of The Bachelorette is because I practically demand it.

I haven’t even watched any NEW movies, for about 5 years now, let alone an old fave, in soooo long. I am hanging.

Which is why, to do a totally useless thing, a completely time-wasting activity, feels so horrible, and yet at the same time, so so good…

sodapop

Hangs head in shame.

I know. I am sooo late to the party. I think this was huge 5 years ago, and yet for some reason still unknown to me, when I saw the link on my computer as I was adding up sums on my laptop calculator for ‘boring as bat-shit’ bills, I thought “is this a freebie?”

I didn’t expect it to be a full-blown game. I thought it would be ‘meh,’ and not only ‘meh,’ but it would immediately lead me to a section where I would have to go online to pay before I could gain full access to the game.

But it didn’t.

And so for nights now, after doing my obligatory writing projects (gratitude post, personal journal) I have been moving up stages in Candy Crush Soda Saga.

God Help Me. I am up to Stage 17. And even earlier today, as I had 20 minutes or so to wait until my cauliflower soup had simmered to a ready stage, instead of doing something useful online, say, like ANY writing…

I moved up 3 stages. Damn.

I am getting really addicted. I feel bad to be doing something so trivial, so useless, and so inconsequential to the progression of LIFE, but I think at the same time that is what is so appealing about it all …

Because as Women, Wives and Mothers, our lives are full to the brim with responsibility and jobs and routine and drop-offs and lunches and cooking and cleaning and bills and paperwork and work work work work work of ALL KINDS.

So although there are so many things that need constant doing…

Sometimes, not doing anything important at all, feels like the most freeing, and therefore important thing to do.

Yes, this post is about my gratitude to Candy Crush. Yes, I know. I never ever ever EVER thought…

soda pop 2