#540 Her phrases

We are driving home from Spotlight. In the car, and it has just started to rain.

“Mama! Wipe wipe wipe!”

Baby girl wants me to put the wipers on. I flick the wand, and the wipers move across the window.

“Good job Mama.”

(!)

We are driving to another shop.

“Mama, one more toy, and finish.”

She says this ALL the time. Every time she says “one more toy, and finish,” it actually NEVER EVER EVER finishes. It’s the never-ending finishing toy story, which never actually finishes, unlike the movie, which DID.

I give her a look, trying not to smile. “Baby girl, don’t be cheeky.”

She cocks her head to the side, imitating my amused smile, and laughs. “Mama,” with the same tone I used on her.

(How do I win with this super-charming and cheeky girl?)

I am cleaning up after having made a cap and babycino for baby girl and I this afternoon. She takes the empty milk canister I have on the side, placing it in the sink.

“Be careful! The milk can drip.” I try to convince her, with my own hands full, to get her to leave the canister alone. She doesn’t.

She places the lid on top, in an act of ‘packing up,’ and then starts to walk away.

“Thank me Mama.”

She wants me to thank her.

“Thanks baby girl… not that I asked you in the first place,” I mutter.

(Sigh).

She has just finished brushing her teeth. We make a HUGE deal out of this, every single time.

“Great job honey! You did so well! You are a superstar!”

“No, a rock star.”

Geez! Where did that one come from?! ;-D

(LOL LOL LOL)

Sitting on her Dad’s lap, drinking her nightly milk. She is slipping off his lap, and repositions herself on him, resulting in extreme discomfort for him. He winces, but he is well-used to this wiggle worm by now.

“Ahh,” she says, taking the milk cup from me, now that she is more comfortable.
“Much much better.”

🙂

I write these things, not only because they make me happy, and grateful for these moments that display her growing humour, personality and maturity, but also as a snapshot into our life, into her life and world, and in particular the moments captured on August the 7th 2017.

It’s the reason why I write and document life so much. I want to remember, and for my children to one day read back, and go “wow… that happened? Wow.”

Life is precious, and life with a child is a wild adventure and bag of tricks that is almost necessary to note down… because they are memories to treasure forever.

#493 Emerging light of the shortest day

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Does that picture look like something from a science fiction movie?

In fact, I took the above photo on my way in to work this morning. I had to capture something to mark this most exciting of days, and when I saw the image before me, the soft mist turning the horizon into a hazy dream, boats still and sleeping in the foreground, while behind the tall buildings and bright red lights of civilisation, there shone something more.

Something grand.

Something promising.

Something, to HOPE for.

Because today is the shortest day of the year. From now on out, the daylight in each day can only grow incrementally, and with that increase, comes the prospect of brilliant sunshine-y times ahead.

I know we are only 21 days into Winter. However, a glass half-full sunshine loving Leo as myself needs something to look forward to, and the shortest day of the year during Winter, is about the most exciting thing to happen today.

Exciting, and gratifying.

And so it helps, it fell on a day that ended up turning rainy, grey and miserable.

But that’s ok. Because the only way is up.

#391 Wine by the water

This is an alcohol-induced post, so it will likely be forgotten by tomorrow morning… I will wake at 9ish, and scratching my head, wonder ‘did I write my gratitude post last night?’

And wine-induced SmikG will already be posted over here on carcrashgratitude, with a smug ‘yep.’

I’m talking bullshit, let’s continue.

But, we went to a new restaurant by the water tonight, and with the rain pouring outside, providing an oddly romantic backdrop, we enjoyed a lovely dinner, and a lovely glass of wine.

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It’s the little things. Wine makes me happy, and that makes me grateful 🙂

#309 My town folk and Rain / Bestie’s surprise tree painting

A special edition. I had two interesting and special incidences today, and so I absolutely have to post both.

Lucky me. Double the gratitude:)

Part 1: The Rain.

I had just driven through the most hellish storm imaginable. I actually had thought to come to a complete stop while on the freeway going home from work. Many, many times, I found it almost impossible to see from the white sheets of rain in front of me, sweeping  across my car and enveloping it in a blurry fog of white. It was scary to endure, and I was relieved when after the longest drive, it started to lighten up.

And this, after the most incredible sunset last night. Ahh Melbourne.

Nearing home, the rain lessened. Finally. It had been a tense drive. I had to stop at the shops first, and got out of the car to light, wispy rain settling on the edges of my stray pieces of hair. I walked calmly into the centre.

After my post office stop and before I got to the supermarket, I heard it on the roof: the intense rattling.

Surely it wasn’t raining so hard, again, so soon after the hour of intense downpour I had just experienced on the way home?

15 minutes later with my bag of groceries in one hand, I was standing under the shelter out the front of the centre, looking in dismayed disbelief over the buckets of ran being heaved upon the car park.

My car was so close, yet so, so far.

I stood with others also holding out for the rain to ease. There were about 7 or so other shoppers, and I looked out at the car park, wondering just when and how long it would be until the rain gave out. It was heavy, and unrelenting.

The rain slowed, but only the slightest amount, not enough to brave the weather and walk through it… and yet, people did. Almost all the people who had been waiting decided to head on out to their cars. I watched, curious, as one by one they left, while I stood there, waiting, watching the Rain.

And then more came. I observed as people wandered in to the centre, soaking wet from the car park; and vice versa, as people exited the centre, and after a brief pause, a reshuffling of bags or searching of keys, kept on walking into the heavy rain towards their car.

The rain had lessened, ever so slightly. But I could tell what kind of deceiving rain this was, what with its big drops and generous weight. I wasn’t going out there, and getting soaked in 3 seconds time. I would keep waiting.

A man walked out of the centre with his son. They walked out and into the rain with little hesitation. A young couple walked out towards the car park as if they were taking a leisurely stroll.

Holiday-stayers, I observed. They don’t care if they get wet – they’re on holiday time.

An older man walked past me from the car park in his shorts and singlet, losing his thong in a deep puddle of water. He slowly stopped, walked back a few steps, his bare foot splashing through the puddle, before grasping the thong with his toe and balancing it back on. A nearby man smiled and they exchanged some words and a laugh before the man walked on, feet soaking, into the centre.

Ok, he mustn’t be driving. He can’t drive like that.

A woman walked out with her son. Flowy dress, telling him “now, don’t run!”

Run, why would you run? Ok it’s easier for her, he’s like 10, she doesn’t have to put him in the car herself.

Still I watched with how casually they made their way into the rain.

They’re all on holiday. I stood there in my wedges, pondering this fact. Skinny black jeans and a stripy singlet top. I was coming home from work. I had to drive home. I wasn’t on holiday time, not yet. These guys were not fazed at all if they got wet. They were moving about without a care in the world. I considered every justification possible.

Then, a woman walked towards the centre from the car park. As she moved forward, she too like the man earlier, lost her sandal in a puddle of water. She paused, her other foot hovering, as she fished it out of the water. I heard the splosh as it was brought forward and onto her foot. Her long flowy dress barely touched the deep puddles beneath her as she kept on going.

It hit me. My justifications were suddenly unworthy. These weren’t ALL holiday-makers. More than half were locals. And here I was, newbie in town, the girl from the ‘burbs looking on and wanting to avoid getting wet.

Screw that shit.

I waited for a slight break in traffic in front of the busy centre, and then started forward. Within seconds I could feel the warm drops sinking into all parts of my clothing, and it squeezed itself between my toes. My car was barely a minutes walk from the shopping centre shelter, and yet by the time I got to the car and plonked down in the driver’s seat, I looked down to rain splattered dark drops all over my clothes, saw the water on my arms as if someone had thrown a bucket on me, and felt my matted hair sticking in sections to my head.

And I loved it! I felt invigorated, refreshed, and alive.

Why the hell did I not do this earlier? We had moved to the beach for the lifestyle, which meant I had to live, LIKE the lifestyle. The locals had inspired me.

I wanted to live on the beach? Then live like I’m on the beach.

I genuinely, do love rain. And I also love my townsfolk 🙂

 

Part 2: The Painting.

I headed over to the parcel as my MIL was putting down baby girl for a nap. I had noticed it before getting changed out of my wet clothes, but hadn’t bothered to investigate further, feeling sure it was the coasters I had ordered a long time ago. Surely, most definitely, it was them. But as I picked up the parcel and the envelopes that read “card only” indicating the late Christmas arrival, the name at the head of the label jumped out at me.

SmikG.

Hmmm. I didn’t remember putting down my author’s alias when I had ordered the coasters. In fact, I don’t remember putting it down anywhere at all. As I looked at the parcel some more, with my actual name and address underneath my alias, the writing grew so familiar to me, that by the time I had turned the parcel around to see who the sender was, I was absolutely definite on who it was from, even though I had no idea what it was.

Sure enough, I was right.

I first opened the Christmas cards, wanting to save the intriguing and exciting surprise package from bestie ’til last. As I opened it, my very slight suspicions, and my judgments based on the weight and size, were confirmed.

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My very talented best friend has recently started painting again, after a long hiatus between high school and now. I actually had NO IDEA how talented she was until she started posting her work on facebook. I had commented on a painting she had done of a similar tree, as I love trees, and all symbols and images associated to them, as mentioned here, and here. However I didn’t think she would ever send me an actual, original painting of hers.

I immediately fell in love. It was perfect. The vibrant colour was reminiscent of our friendship too, an ode to high school, Prince, Purple Rain, and so much more. It was so personal of her to give me something so beautiful and creative of hers, and I immediately felt emotional.

I called her up to express my profound thanks, and later I placed it up high in our bedroom, until we find a more permanent home for it.

…When I walked into the room hours later, the painting of the purple tree was a sight for sore eyes. I didn’t realise how much colour was lacking in our room, in our house, and I was sick of seeing beige boxes shoved into corners all over the place, only I didn’t know how much until this masterpiece entered our home.

I love it. I am really grateful for this personal present gifted to me by a very dear friend, the heartfelt meaning behind it, and the sincere generosity of bestie to even think of giving it to me in the first place.

 

Dancing in the rain amidst friendly townfolk and purple trees by bestie. Not a bad day. Not a bad day AT ALL. 🙂

 

#257 3 gals at the BIG park

We’re all about parks aren’t we? Today yes, we went to a park that I’ve been wanting to take baby girl to for a while now. Since my parents told me about the new one that had been built just a 5 minute walk down their street, I knew I had to go.

And today was the perfect opportunity. I was at my parents’ for my Mum’s actual birthday, and after a bite to eat, Mum, baby girl and I walked on over to check it out.

Baby girl screamed in delight when we turned the corner and it came into view. It was big, new and I was impressed with all the playground novelty. Immediately baby girl dragged me over to the see-saw to be flung into the air against my adult body.

It was short, but very, very sweet. It was exceptionally windy, overcast, with rain threatening to pour at any second. And it did start to drizzle while we were there, intermittently, cutting short our park trip. But it was fantastic. Watching my Mum and baby girl go down the slides side by side, baby girl dragging her onto the see-saw as well, the two of them running about the place… it was priceless.

It was not park weather. But I had the best company, which made the park visit absolutely perfect.

I am grateful to big parks with perfect company 🙂

#242 D&M with Hubbie

It may strike some as unusual that I’m having a bad time at the moment.

But then, if you know that we’ve recently moved house, it may not come as such a surprise.

Everything is off-centre, backwards, outdated, trying, and so ridiculously wrong that it is almost laughable. I feel like Mr Bean and someone up there is laughing their arse off at my expense.

No gas, means no heater. This coincided with some of the coldest days over the weekend, and I was terrified for some moments thinking we had Sea changed to the coldest part of the state, until I discovered that fam and friends on the other side of the city were too, miserably unhappy with the weather.

I got rained on 3 times in 2 days. The last time I got rained on was 4 years ago. And when it happened this weekend, I couldn’t even dry off properly. Heater issue, above.

I’m feeling isolated. Family and friends are not around.

Boxes are everywhere. Not having my shit together is keeping me restless and scatterbrained.

I haven’t slept properly in 2 weeks. Lack of sleep due to packing before the move, and now here, lack of sleep due to baby girl waking in the middle of the night because of the new house.

Everything is getting to me. Everything was getting to me. I had a few sorry moments this afternoon… and as down as I was feeling, after I spoke to hubbie and purged all my worries and stresses onto him, I slowly, eventually came to turn around.

The power of someone who has your back, is enormous. I am so grateful to him for his listening ears, helpful heart, searching eyes and loving soul. He did not give up until he made sure, I wasn’t going to.

It’s a tough time of life at the moment. We are settling. Things are up in the air. Things aren’t working the way they should. We are out of our comfort zone.

But, I know that. I knew that, before all this happened. I just didn’t think it would be so hard.

But, as long as I’m out of my comfort zone with hubbie and baby girl, things are good.

Following our D&M, I’m looking up again.

#202 No dickhead noisy neighbours

First I was going to talk of rain. My ever-growing, intense fascination with this ethereal substance.

Then I was looking at the bevy of umbrellas bouncing along the sidewalk as I walked in the rain today, under my own umbrella, and considered that picture of beautiful imagery something to be grateful for.

Then my boss. Another post will come there. (Suck).

Then the Reese’s peanut butter Krispy Kreme Hubbie got for me on his petrol doughnut run earlier tonight (Mmmm).

But no. 15 minutes ago I changed my mind from all those gratefulness-worthy possibilities.

My dickhead neighbours started being loud. Again. And I thought “I’ve got less than 2 months of this.”

I can’t express how grateful I am for that.

If I were staying on, I would take further action. Write to their body corp. Expressly convey my frustration at the inconsiderate couple choosing to put on loud music and clang God knows what, slam doors and talk exceptionally loudly (shall we just say shout?) past the hours of 10:30pm, very, very often.

It doesn’t happen every night. I might have already committed a sin if that were the case. No, these guys pop up with their loud demeanours, maybe once, twice a week, and every so often it gets so upsetting that like tonight, I immediately call the cops.

I am not a music-scrooge! I can hear him now, he’s freaking sawing something!

IT IS 11:07pm!

I don’t mind music. However generally people don’t start to play it on a weeknight, post 11pm. These guys are not normal. Every time they get noisy, it begins post 10:30pm. They even have kids, primary-aged, and I think they go outside so that their own kids can sleep…

I don’t know how, because I can hear every freaking thing.

They’re also cheeky, in that their loud periods won’t last for much longer than about 15 minutes at a time. Then there might be a half hour gap, and again, I hear the sliding door, and the abrupt jolt as they slam it shut. They must be smokers. I have beautiful visions of calling the house owners and telling them how their roach tenants are slowly tearing  their home to shreds.

I don’t like to cause trouble. And I’m not against having some fun. But you cannot deny, that these guys are repeat offenders and inconsiderate bastards who have no common sense about how to go about living alongside their neighbours.

I mean, live on a 27 acre farm, and make ALL the noise you want. Go for YOUR LIFE.

I can’t stand them.

And it may be awfully negative to talk of being grateful for the absence of annoying people…

But man I will be. I just can’t wait to be rid of them.

I am so grateful to be moving far, far away from them.

Let’s just hope our new neighbours are better than these guys…