Home Sweet Home

Me, E and Nanna at the Aquarium

What a difference a holiday makes! Teach, E and I returned to Brisbane on Sunday after two glorious weeks in Townsville, our home town.

While getting away is a fantastic opportunity to explore new locations, relax from the 9 to 5 and generally escape reality; going home to spend time with your parents and in-laws isn't normally what springs to mind when you start planning a family holiday, but this time 'round, we couldn't comprehend an alternative.

Our initial motivation to venture north was to attend my brother in-laws nupitals. Knowing school holidays would be in full swing and Teach had time off, we decided to stay on to allow E to develop stronger relationships with his extended family and enjoy the down time ourselves, of course.

As both of mine and Teach's parents still live in the "Ville" going back to our homeland was just what we, the grandparents, cousins, auntys, uncles, godparents and, most importantly, E needed.

From play dates at The Strand, to watching big Sharks swim overhead at the Aquarium, to spending afternoons under the hose in the back yard (a traditional way to spend a hot NQ afternoon), our holiday was just that; a getaway with no stress, no accommodation hiccups at 3am or horrific travelling experiences (remember Darwin?!) with a crying baby.  

We feasted on home cooked meals, caught up with friends, had a choice of babysitter if we wanted to go out (that in itself was worth the trip!) and E always had someone to take him to the park/pool/beach/shops if he was getting restless at home.

I've never been more relaxed in my life and I belive I can safely assume Teach feels the same way.

While venturing somewhere new for a family holiday is always an exiting option, sometimes the act of keeping it simple with a destination you know is truly the best case scenario for everyone.

Only problem is returning to reality to find your support network is gone but your child's expectation of park play dates remains the same... Eeek!

My Heart Belongs To Daddy

Growing up I was always a Daddy's girl. I didn't realise this until years later when I moved out of home and no longer had my Father protecting the front door. Not from boys, I might add, from myself!

"Don't upset your Mother," he said sternly when I arrived home after midnight at 17 years of age, the first time I ever borrowed the car. "You know what she's like. She's worried." 

At the time I thought it was very nice of him to warn me of what had been happening back at the fort, while I was burning around town in the family Mitsubishi Colt with my hot new licence, but the beauty of hindsight allows me to understand he was simply telling me what he wanted to say, only using Mum as the diversion.

He was upset too, but it was Mum I had to snuggle up to and promise that I'd never do it again. As Daddy's little girl, sometimes you'd just get away with it, within reason of course!

Fathers are very proud of their daughters. I can grasp the magnitude of this now as a parent myself.

The time we spent together driving to and from dancing competitions in other regional cities near Townsville would've killed other fainted heart Dads. Not mine. He'd spend hours sitting in uncomfortable plastic chairs waiting for me to perform, only to drive my Mother and I home again at the end of the day. Up to eight hours round trip.

Some weekends he'd be lucky and I'd have to dance on both Saturday and Sunday so he got to sleep in a manky hotel for the night and have somewhere else to go during the day, but more often than not he'd happily turn around on Saturday afternoon and drive the fours hours home, tired, with only a roadside-house coffee or a chicko roll to ease the pain.

This tradition lasted more than 15 years, and I remember it like it was yesterday. It was our special time.Of course I was crazy jealous of my brothers when they were chosen to go away with Dad on car trips and I wasn't, but looking back I realise we had our own adventures, in-jokes and favourite car songs they wouldn't have had.

As I grow older and my own family develops, I see Dad more clearly and appreciate his devotion to his family. Without this I honestly believe I would not be the person I am today. 

My father is an intelligent, loyal, devoted, loving, passionate family man who is fiercely protective, yet at the same time more than willing to let you go and live your own life.  He's instilled a sense of adventure in me that I don't believe I would've developed myself because he always said I could achieve whatever I set my mind to.

His advice and support throughout the years has given me the strength and confidence to take each new step in my life. Whether that step was backwards or forwards, I knew he was there, somewhere, a few steps behind watching and only offering advice if I asked for it. 

Our weekly (sometimes fortnightly) conversations on the phone are often short and sweet, never quite revealing anything new. I'm always "same old, same old," but what I really wish I could say is: Thank you Dad. Thank you for loving me and my brothers with every bone in your body and giving us the best life three kids could ever ask for - even if you did throw away my favourite (and perfectly good) toy clothes line when I was 2.

Here's to you, a very belated Father's Day messge; I love you Dad. High Beam!

The Games We Play

Is the hand brake off?

Peekaboo is E's favourite game at the moment. He knows to sit behind the curtains in the living room and wait until Teach or I start calling out for him. We play it up of course and call out the required, "Where is he?" until you hear him giggle. He chuckles so much his little legs lift off the ground because he thinks he's the smartest little person for fooling Mummy and Daddy (well, he's right!), then as if by magic he appears again with a smile as wide as a see-saw. Gotcha!

We all know entertaining a toddler can be tiresome, but somedays there's nothing I love more than crawling under fun-size tables (my polite way of saying small), playing trucks and peekaboo 1,000 times because his heart-warming laugh and hugs of appreciation are not worth swapping for all the Tea in China. 

E's other must-play games with Mum and Dad are singing and dancing to Justine Clarke (a CD I will buy every new Mum from now on as it has saved us A LOT), climbing over cushions on the floor piled up like a mountain and rolling off, pushing his Tonka trucks across the room, spinning the wheels on said trucks, rolling a bouncy ball back and forth and generally playing with anything that makes a noise.

You name it - or hear it - and we've got it but cars, trucks and trains are his never-fail pick of the bunch everytime. He even makes a Brrrrrrrrrrrrrroom noise like a car engine when he flips the pages of his books about cars and trucks...he loves them that much! :)

But we're now slowly coming to a stage where he's seeking more. So I'd love to know, what games do you like playing with your little one? Got any tips for home-made games for that 1 to 2 year old age group?

I'm very keen to hear how other Mums and Dads play, learn and grow with their Bubbas.

E learns to play the drums

Entertaining our sick little monkey

E has been suffering from a cough and cold for the past week or two. If his nose isn't pouring like a tap, he barks up a cough loud enough to scare our neighbour's dog. Either way, there has been a never ending cycle of snot and saliva running from our little monkey at some stage during the day...and night for some time.

Despite his flu like symptoms I know in my heart of hearts that he isn't sick enough to warrant a visit to the doctor but he's too sick to risk picking up more bugs from the park or daycare, so Teach and I have been coming up with ways to keep him (and ourselves) entertained in the house.

The other day we decided to teach him how to play the drums. Homemade drums to be precise. His new instrument consisted of three stainless steel mixing bowls from the kitchen cupboard, a wooden spoon, a whisk, a saucepan lid for a symbol and a tupperware container full of rice for extra sound effects.

He had a ball discovering the many different sounds he could create. He found out which items make loud noises, which ones make really loud noises and the unbearable noise Mum makes when they are all dropped on the kitchen tiles at the same time....I'd compare the latter to a cat screaming as she gives birth to a cow. Neither pleasant nor pretty.

Following our success with the drums (and after a cup of tea to calm my nerves), Teach and I decided to slow down on the toy buying bonanza for his first birthday (just around the corner) and create a new instrument from kitchen utensils each week. I'm not sure if this decision was made more for E's enjoyment or ours, but it beats the singing the flu blues!

What have you created for your little ones to play with at home?

Flowers for my Mum

My beautiful Mother is recuperating from surgery on her foot and has been ordered to stay off it for six weeks in order to heal. I know this will be very difficult for her because my Mum is the one person who does everything for everyone without question or fuss. She doesn't sit still for a minute (unless she is watching her favourite TV show The Good Wife) at home or at work, so I have a feeling she might be going a little stir crazy at the moment... or catching up on some chick flicks which no doubt is driving Dad stir crazy.

Unfortunately I'm not able to be there to help Dad play Nurse so I'm sending Mum these gorgeous flowers and a big virtual hug to say, 'Love ya Mum. Get better soon.'

(Picture from Cup of Jo)

Time in Timaru

The Lighthouse overlooking Caroline Bay, Timaru.

Teach, E and I returned home on Monday after three fabulous days (plus two days of travelling) in New Zealand. We flew across the Tasman to witness two wonderful friends tie the knot in Timaru, the Groom's birth place.

An Open Letter to 2011

Dearest 2011,

Please let me take this opportunity to express my heart-felt thanks and gratitude for coming into my life. I had a feeling we would meet one day - perhaps we met sooner than anticipated - but in the end I'm so glad we had our time together.

Well, Hark the Herald Angels! What a Week...

This week has been one of many firsts for our little family. From shopping for E's first Christmas Tree, to swims at South Bank and playing in the sprinkler, to crawling from one end of the house to the other (yes, all of us at some stage), this week has been one of great significance in our young family's life.

It started off like many others - very early and filled with endless cups of coffee from the cafe recently opened in our neighbourhood.

We decided to use this time before Christmas to do all the chores I didn't manage to get done while Teach was at work (read: forgot because lazybones here watched to many re-runs of Grey's Anatomy).

First stop: Christmas Tree! I really wanted to get into the spirit of our family Christmas, which to me means, a fabulous tree (if budget allows for it) and decorations to deck the halls.

Teach always had a real tree growing up and wanted to continue the same tradition for E, so we made our way to Hawkins to select one of their finest. Ok, maybe it wasn't their finest (how do you say 'Ka-Ching' in Tree?) but it's fine enough for our place. 

It's not the size but what you do with it that matters.

The decorations are sadly lacking, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it?

You might have noticed summer really stepped up to the plate after several days of faux winter weather this week. To celebrate (and escape our hot box) we packed the beach bag and took E to South Bank for a splash in Streets Beach. It's one of my favourite spots in Brisbane because it's close to the city, shops, cafes, galleries and other attractions, but most importantly, it's free.

E had a ball! It was one big bath tub to him. Splashing, kicking and playing. He would've stayed there for hours if the rain clouds didn't loom large and threaten to destroy our lovely afternoon.

Loving the water at Streets Beach

Inspired by his obvious love of the water, we decided to set up a sprinkler in the back garden and play under the hose like we did as kids. E was a bit shocked at this cold wet stuff splashing him in the face at first, but loved it eventually. The blow-up ball Teach was given as a Secret Santa gift came in very handy for our "pool party."

A boy always needs a ball.

Then yesterday, our little man, who has been trying to crawl for several weeks finally took off on all fours. Slowly but surely, he let one knee follow the other and crawled from Teach to me along the hallway (maybe 2m long) without looking back. It was the proudest moment of our lives!

Not wanting to finish there, a few hours later with a belly full of Mum's brilliant super-charged Boob Juice, he attempted the stairs. With Teach behind him, he went from one step to the next and climbed all the way to the top. We cheered and cheered. Once at the top, his little eyes smiled at me as if to say, 'Ta Dah! Look at me Mum,'. We couldn't stop laughing and applauding his little adventure. That reminds me, I really must buy child-proof gates for the stairs.


It's moments like these when you realise that for all the late nights, crying tantrums and pooy bums (mine and E's), you wouldn't change being a parent for anything in the world.


Merry Christmas to all.
x Sian

Our little Crawler

He's up on all fours then crash! He'll get up on his knees then fall forward on to his face. Splat! He'll use his arms to push himself around in circles and backwards across the floor.

But yesterday, E put it together and moved his little knee forward under his belly as if to move forward then... Boom! Belly dive straight into the carpet. Yes our little man is learning how to crawl and we're very excited. (Though I'm somewhat nervous because our house is a jungle gym waiting to be explored.)

E is nine months old today, so Happy (sort of) Birthday to our beautiful boy.

Sleep Training: One Tired Parent's Diary - Part Two

Well it seems our endeavour to teach E how to self-settle during the night has ended before it really began...

I'm not sure if it was my initial resistance (covered by cocky confidence), levels of anxiety or desire to sleep and 'deal with it later' that overcame me, but I woke up today vowing to find another solution. Anything must be better than hearing my darling boy cry. In short, I gave up.

Sleep Training: One Tired Parent's Diary

After more than four months of E's constant night waking - ranging from every 4 hours to every hour - Teach and I have decided to try and teach E to self-settle during the night.

Self-settling is also referred to as Controlled Crying (CC), Crying it Out (CIO), Sleep Training (ST) and Controlled Comforting (again CC). No matter what you want to call it, it's a controversial subject. Many wise women before me *cough* have prepared papers on the pros and cons of CC, some declaring it causes psychological harm on the child and instils a sense of abandonment. Others say allowing a baby to cry and fall asleep on their own (without being fed, rocked, nursed etc...) will not harm them in and infact could teach children resilience.

Havagdwkend

A cute conversation I had with my three year-old niece about her dog named Chai...

Me: What type of dog do you have?

Her: Chai.

Me: Yeah, Chai is his name, but can you tell me what type of dog he is?

Her: A little one.

Me: He is little, isn't he? Do you know if he is a terrior, a maltease or maybe a poodle?

Her: Chai. Chai!! [Now looking at me as if to say, 'Get it?!'] He's my puppy. He's little.

Me: He sure is.

How can I possibly argue with that logic? Have a great weekend y'all.

x Sian

A whale of a time at Cabarita

Each year two of my favourite girlfriends and I catch up for a fun-filled weekend of gossip, shopping and wine tasting half way between Coffs Harbour and Brisbane. Typically this means a weekend in Byron Bay, however this year, we all agreed Byron was too expensive, busy and seriously overrated, so we decided to explore further afield and set up camp at Cabarita. 

Awww...Paradise at Cabarita Beach!

Only 40 minutes drive north of Byron Bay on the Tweed Coast, Cabarita (the original name for the town is Bogangar, an Aboriginal word meaning 'place of many pippies') is a quaint seaside village young (in tourism terms) enough to be a family friendly, affordable destination but still old-fashioned enough to provide its visitors a warm, hospitable retreat. 

Despite our growing displeasure with the Bay, we were slightly anxious to venture away from the comfort of its well known beaches and cafes for a place we’d never heard of, let alone been too. We soon discovered our worries were unfounded.  

My girlfriend Ed had booked a two-bedroom family unit at The Hideaway, a clean low-key hotel located less than a five minute stroll to the beach and the centre of town. The six of us (Ange and her two daughters, Ed, myself and E) settled in to our rooms before getting our feet in the water - we knew if the beach was up to scratch we’d struck gold! 

One foot on the pure white sand had us praising the heavens for this hidden treasure. The beach is everything you’d want and more. Long as far as the eye could see, pristine waters, clean uncluttered sand with hardly any people on it AND lifeguards so you knew you’d be looked after. We made our way to Norries Headland for a few happy snaps before making our way back to the hotel via the main road to double check that our dream find was true. 

I’m proud to say Cabarita has it all. Restaurants, cafes, shops, a surf club, walking tracks and a lookout over the ocean...sound familiar? The rest of the afternoon was very relaxed. E slept while the big-girls shared a bottle of bubbles and the little-girls made arts and crafts by the pool. 

Several other guests at the hotel said Hello as they walked by our patio to the beach and made small talk about the weather. One couple and their four-year old told us they lived in Cabarita but needed a little getaway. The Mum explained, “everything is in walking distance from here and the views are so good you automatically feel like you’re on holiday. We don’t need to go anywhere else.” I couldn’t agree more.  

We’d found paradise - a spot yet to be over populated with holiday makers from all corners of the globe and a beach not spoilt by developers selling its picturesque lifestyle only to destroy it in the process...again, sound familiar? 

Sunday came all too soon and it was time to say goodbye. Procrastinating the inevitable, we watched surfers and swimmers take to the water over a coffee before our final walk along the beach. The younger girls collected shells while the rest of us admired the views of a pod of whales playing in the distance, obviously delighted with their holiday destination too. 

E having a little quiet time

Our weekend was all to brief, but we agreed Cabarita would be the destination for our annual catch-ups from now on – just as long as one of us could wrangle a few whales to show up again too!

IN BRIEF:

Cabarita Beach is between Byron Bay (40 mins north) and the Gold Coast (20 mins south). Follow the Cabarita Beach exits from the highway.

The Hideaway is located at 21 Cypress Cresent, Cabarita, NSW. Phone 02 6676 1444

*Cabarita Beach image originally from The Age