#665 Sunday family day and realigning

I could be grateful that we spent a good portion of the day shopping, and got a bit more of our Christmas list ticked off… but with all that has been happening with life lately, the busyness, the reality and the true meaning of it, I just ain’t feeling the grateful shopping vibe.

Another day, maybe. Today, it feels too materialistic for the realisations that the day brought us. And maybe, I’m sick of spending so much $$$ in the festive lead-up.

Instead, I had the best time after we got home. We had driven home in the sunny sunshine, and then spent the afternoon not doing so much. In line with this relaxed vibe we got some charcoal chicken, but maybe also (ahem, HUGELY) due to the fact that our kitchen is still a W.I.P.

I had so much on my mind, and laid it all out to Hubbie.

We decided in a change of plans. We have been discussing a simpler, easier, more stress-free, carefree and happier life for about week now, but it was decided for sure tonight, that that WAS going to happen.

Life is short. We are only here once. We plan so much for the future, and often, things change so much. We need to be willing to adapt, roll with the punches, and attune ourselves to our environment in order to survive.

What we were sure of years ago, we are now not so. So we are changing. I am grateful for the relaxed Sunday vibes that allowed us to get to that place, and I am happy that my husband is also in the same ‘place,’ as I am.

Super-duper important in ANY relationship.

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Photo by Jordan Ladikos on Unsplash

 

 

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#649 THE COOKER

Today, our insanely fabulous cooker was wheeled into place in our W.I.P kitchen.

The electrician: “It’s bloody heavy to carry, for an oven. So heavy! But it’s a fancy one.”

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Yes electrician. Remind me again. And again and again.

I definitely need a reminder. It was a year ago that we bought our new kitchen appliances for our future kitchen, not knowing then that they would be gathering dust in the corner of our garage until the following Spring.

But today. Ohhh, today. Today the electrician told me several times how cool it was, and each time, I internally clapped my hands with glee.

(!!!)

I haven’t even used it, and I am super-duper excited. Oh, just imagine all the trays of food I can fit into those 900mms of expansiveness… oh, imagine the crisp pastries and tarts, creamy casseroles, indulgent desserts, and succulent roasts I can whip up in that beast of kitchen machinery.

That’s right. Sunday. I think I will attempt a roast this Sunday evening, as an official christening of the oven.

I never thought I would love an oven soooo much. But I do. And I haven’t even used it yet. That can be another post, for another day.

And can I just say, our bareless cupboard-ed kitchen has nothing in it, and yet if you look again at the above picture, you can see we have our priorities totally in check…

Yep, that’s right.

BEANS.

#637 Hubbie’s kindness

Today was a real Sunday.

It was the Sunday dreams are made of. No plans, aimlessly going here, and then there.

Gloriously sunny skies stretching out ahead.

Bustling roads and people out and about, making the most of the day – and us with them.

And overall, relaxing.

I had many things to be grateful for as I made my way through the day, and photo evidence was created along the way.

Relaxing with a coffee on the front porch in the mid-afternoon sun:

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Having a bite out – burritos:

Then some berry dessert to follow:

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And lastly, park play, with long admiring glances at hundred-year-old trees:

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It wasn’t until this last stop that my real gratitude came forward. Baby girl had gotten wind of the suddenly available swing, and was going absolutely mental on it. She has learned how to swing on her own, her legs going under and then out in front, as she takes herself to the sky, in her sweet words.

Beside her on the swing was another boy, trying to do the same thing. Hubbie and I watched from a few metres away, me still polishing off my melting ice-cream in the mild evening air, as baby girl squealed with joy, confidently, with strength, and pure happiness, while the boy, at least a couple years older than her, sat fairly still on the swing, trying to move about, but not getting much wind behind his swing.

We heard him call out to his Mum a couple of times. She was just behind us, her back to him, chatting to another Mum.

We glanced at each other. Hubbie made a few comments alongside the vein of “she can’t even hear him.” We were not Mum-shaming, and nor am I doing it now – I am just repeating the stone cold facts of the day.

We watched as this boy looked on at baby girl wishfully, at the same time calling out to his Mum with no hope in his voice – she had already said something dismissive as she had continued her chat with the other woman.

Hubbie said some more ‘interesting’ words… and then stood up. I urged him on with “I feel sorry for him,” but reminded him to be cautious too: you never know how a fellow parent will act when you start to parent their child.

Hubbie moved behind baby girl, pushing her (even though she didn’t need it!) while asking the boy if he needed help. The boy was alright on the seat, and I could hear Hubbie telling him “put your legs under… and then out. Now under… and then out. Great job.”

I smiled as I watched in amazement at the boy immediately responding to Hubbie’s instruction. He started to gain some speed in his swinging, and as he got up higher and higher, Hubbie gave him a swift and strong PUSH.

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The sun was setting behind them as I watched, and so I could only see their outlines – but I swear that boy’s face lit up with the biggest smile as Hubbie gave him that huge push, helping him get to baby girl’s height. She yelled in delight to be swinging so high alongside a fellow ‘friend,’ and Hubbie made a few more pushes behind the boy’s swing, urging him to keep going “legs under… then out.”

At the boy’s beaming face, my heart surged with pride at Hubbie’s selfless act. Hubbie couldn’t see his face. He was looking towards the boy’s Mum, with some amount of disappointment on his face, as she obliviously kept chatting.

The boy soon came to a stop, and as he shuffled his feet onto the ground below to stand up straight, his Mum now looked behind her. She laughed and said to her friend:

“Oh Alistair’s just sitting there, he’s fine.”

Oh, lady. You have no idea.

The boy soon got out of the swing and hurried off to another part of the park, while I went over to Hubbie and told him about the expression on the boy’s face.

And baby girl continued to fly up into the air.

 

 

 

 

 

 

#623 Ice-Cream Truck joy

It was the perfect thing to do on a sunny Sunday. Especially after the late night that was, which is why we ended up at the Community Kinders Fair just before 1pm.

It was a gathering of a whole bunch of kinders from the area, with many of them holding stalls where the respective teachers sat beneath the shade of their tents, activities out for littlies of all ages to enjoy, while a few major attractions were positioned here, and there. Like the animal cage where the kiddies mingled with goats and chickens; or the massive tent in centre-field that housed magical performances and tricks and games for both young and old; there was a small stage set up for local up-and-coming singers to put their vocals to the test amidst the family-friendly crowd; and then there was the long, LONG line leading to…

The Face Painting.

After a quick stop over at the animal cage

and then a hello to baby girl’s teachers in their tent stall, we headed over to the stage area where we knew a friend of hers was nearby.

Upon them meeting it was immediately agreed that both wanted face painting. NOW.

So, I stood in line with baby girl, her friend, and her friend’s Mum, for a good hour. In the strong sunshine-y wind.

Thank God we had company. We talked kinders, life, jobs, kids, and all the in-betweens. We even made friends with a lady in front of us, all the while silently and loudly willing the line to go faster.

The thing that puzzled us though, was the fair ended at 2pm, with stallholders packing up and the crowds dissipating quickly from that mammoth scenic park we were in. But at no stage approaching 2pm, at 2pm, or even just after 2pm, did the two ladies, slowly and meticulously and precisely doing the face painting, look up at us to indicate they were done.

For sure they would call out at some stage, and tell us ‘beyond this line, no more!’ We waited and waited. But also, surely they wouldn’t tell us they were done, and we all had to go home, after we had waited so very long to fulfil our kids desire?

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They didn’t. The two ladies worked brilliantly, not taking face painting shortcuts just because it was now 2:20, and they were still there, while 4/5 of the grounds had up and gone. Baby girl and her friend made their way to the star seats soon enough, and we were all VERY happy that we had waited, for something.

After my profuse thank yous to the woman who had painted baby girl, we said our goodbyes to her friend and her Mum, and started to make our way to the car. I looked longingly at the seemingly empty ice cream truck still on the ground, next to a hot food truck. I had been in line and watching people all about me eating ice creams for the past hot, windy hour, and wishing that I too was indulging in some cold and sweet goodness.

Occasionally a man passed the interior window of the truck, but there were no other signs or activity to support the fact that it was still operational. For all we knew the dude was going to rev the engine and drive off the park grounds at any moment.

“Man, I would love an ice cream,” I wished out loud.

“Let’s see if he’s still open,” Hubbie responded. We followed, myself not too confident of the sweet-treat outcome.

He called out as we approached, the man now visible again behind the open window. “Can we still get ice creams?”

The man smiled, and responded in a way that made me think both yes, and no: “what did you want?”

We quickly placed our 3 orders: Hubbie’s gelato, baby girl’s soft serve with sprinkles, and my soft serve dipped in chocolate.

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It was heaven. Never has an ice cream tasted so damn good.

I’m putting it out there. You don’t need no fancy-schmanc ice cream café to have me flocking to their doors. Just give me an old-school truck, and I’m as happy as a lassie.

The consensus amongst us, was we were definitely in agreeance. Hubbie’s comments of his gelato being “insanely good,” and baby girl’s slurps and “mmmm’s” told the rest of the story.

Oh, and just so you know… baby girl is currently more a hand painter, than a face painter type of girl.

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Butterfly and bee. The bee is a bit shonky, but the waiting in line was worth it, if only for the ice cream at the end…

 

#609 1st year celebrations

It is the loveliest thing, when the town that you move to decides to throw you a welcoming party in honour of your presence, and then at each anniversary they throw more parties, just to remember how amazing it is that you decided to regal them with your being to reside in their locality.

Yep. That, or it happened to be the Main Street Mornington Festival, which falls on the third Sunday of October and has been happening for 22 years now, and it just so happily coincides with the time of year you decided to move.

Same same. A lucky coincidence either way.

And so the gratitude and happiness at our 1 year long Sea change continued today at the Main Street Fest. It was a stunning day, with a very fresh, strong sea breeze, and yet still, the people were out in force, packed like sardines in the middle of the street as they squeezed their way through amongst the countless and endless food stalls on either end.

After moving very slowly for what seemed like too long, we ended up deciding to just sit down and watch everyone else idle on by, and so we happened across the best spot at one of our most favourite-st of places to eat, drink, do anything really: The Winey Cow.

(I had the best Laksa!)

A spot of ice cream was required from Vespa’s afterwards

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And then once some more fun and drinks were had, we headed off back to the car a good few blocks away…

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Oh, to be a kid and be able to hitch a ride like that. She is so damn lucky. I had to walk.

And then, poor Hubbie’s shoulders.

But all in all, the day was splendid, and we had spent it as intended – us, our family, just doing what we came here to do a year ago…

Enjoy life 🙂

 

 

#581 Basketball sesh’

Sixteen degrees.

Sunday.

Spring.

Sunshine.

Basketball…. Sesh.’

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Baby girl thinks Daddy is pretty cool, with all his special basketball manoeuvres, techniques and on-point shooting.

She had her own mini basketball as we ran up and down the publicly accessible court, played defence on one another, and broke all the rules as we ‘travelled’ and chased each other around.

Baby girl has mean wrist action as she goes to shoot with her ball… she totally misses, but that is not the point. Toddler-steps. She has the knack.

It was windy, but it was sunny.

We were tired by the end of it all, but we were also very, very content.

 

#560 Silly games

It was a lazy kind of Sunday – just the day I needed. Chilling with my family…

…And playing too.

I was telling baby girl at one point in the day, how she had the most fantastic bed, and if I were her, I would sleep in it all day, and all night (just an extension of her already good habits, but just wanting to concrete in that sleeping in her own bed/room is THE BOMB).

Well of course after that statement, she of course wanted to tuck me into her bed.

Of course.

I happily complied. It was a cold and rainy day. I snuggled in under the covers, she read to me, put her stuffed lion and elephant toys around me, and I pretended to sleep.

When she left the room, I sprung into action. I got out of her bed, shoved her elephant under the covers in my place, and then hid in her wardrobe opposite the bed. I heard her come in, walk over to the bed, and go “huh?”

I stifled my laughter.

Some shuffling, and then I heard laughter.

Oh God she had found the elephant. I put my hand over my mouth. I was sure she would hear my quietly escaping laughter.

“Mama? Ma! Mama?” she called for me around the room, and then asked the elephant if he knew where I was, and answered for him too – “No.”

Meanwhile I was sniggering two metres away.

She left the room calling to her Dad, telling him Mama was gone, and I jumped out of the wardrobe, back into bed, threw Mister Elephant to the side, and pulled the covers up close around my head.

I closed my eyes as she approached. “Oh! Mama!” she was smiling.

“Hey honey!”

She indicated I had been gone, and the elephant had been in the bed.

“What? I’ve been here the whole time!”

Whose the child here?!?!

I ended with the cheeky question, posing to her that Mama had tricked her – I don’t want to leave the girl with questionable freaky ideas about her mother disappearing and then reappearing suddenly – but it had been good fun, and on a quiet, low-key, rainy Sunday, we had made some fun and silly memories.

I love these games, and I love how she brings out the child in me. Why would you ever want to grow up?