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!

A Californian Darling.

It is no secret (see profile notes to the right) that I am a touch obsessed with the delightful, witty and charming Ms Witherspoon (obviously, I assume she is as I describe her because that's the fantasy in my head and no one can tell me otherwise!) therefore it should come as little surprise that I'm swooning over pictures of her amazing Ojai home in the current issue of Elle Decor.

From the high wooden ceilings, to the wrought iron chairs on the Terrace overlooking the lavish grounds, this house is truly stunning in its beautiful simplicity...in my humble opinion.

Cute. Charming. Classy. Just like its owner.

A Promise or Four

If 2012 was suppose to be the year the world ended, it's certainly spinning fast enough to fly straight off its axis. Blink and we'll miss it.

In an attempt to slow-down, take stock and simply enjoy the year a little more before it's over, I have made a list of activities, and must-dos I simply, well, must-do before I bid farewell to 2012 and find myself saying in January, "this year I really should start...{insert subject of interest here}".

Friends and family will be the first to tell you I'm a tragic I'll-Do-It-One-Day kinda girl, but now I fear that day has found me and is urging me to havago.

Unfortunately now I've told you about it, I have to do it. I'm accountable for my actions and worse still, I'm forcing myself to share all the details with you one blog post at a time. Bum. Poo. Wee!

As there are four months remaining in the year, here are four activities in no particular order, I aim to accomplish before 31 December 2012 {drum roll please}...

1. Yoga: Formerly a yoga devotee, I gave it away when I discovered red wine. Understandable really. Now I'm awake before 7am every day and no longer have a child dependent on Thelma and Louise, I don't have a reasonable excuse to leave my orange yoga mat under the bed much longer. It has been 6 years!

2.  Swim: I have never liked swimming. Yes, I'll splash about in a pool and frolic in (small) waves but the thought of following a black line for an hour leaves me short of breath. Or, that is, it use too. It's not clear whether it's the smell of chlorine from Teach's swimming towel most mornings or the appeal of a no-impact sport that has this old duck quacking, but I'm going to give a crack.{Mum, stop laughing!}

3. Read: I hereby vow to put down the TV remote control and read the 5 books that have each been started, yet sit neglected beside my bed. Glossy womens magazines are not included in this promise - they're half the reason I don't open the hardbacks!

4. Cook: The cupboard above our stovetop is full, neigh, overflowing of cookbooks by Jaime Oliver, Donna Hay, The Women's Weekly, Maggie Beer, Nigella Lawson, Curtis Stone, and many others that all promise to have me cooking sumptuous meals with little effort, or at the very least, successfully with little skill. Julie & Julia I am not, but I will dedicate Sunday nights to exploring, tasting and hopefully achieving one new recipe from any one of the aformentioned Chefs. Lucky I'm going to start excercising again!

What would you like to achieve before the end of the year?

Head vs Heart

When life gives you lemons, it is a common assumption you'll make lemonade, right?

What if you attempt to make lemonade but while you're squeezing out all the juice you notice you're out of ice and sugar so you make a last minute decision to bake a lemon tart? Should I be disappointed with the outcome because I had my heart set on lemonade or embrace what I could create; a tasty tart?

What's with all the lemons?

Recently I mentioned my desire to start my own business, however, in my haste to make it happen and "achieve my dream" (vomit on a cliche!) it became abundantly clear that perhaps now isn't the right time to start and I need to focus on achieving my dream in smaller more managable pieces.

Voicing my concerns to Teach about building a comprehensive business and having it make money in 6 weeks to co-incide with my current contract ending, made us both weak in the knees.

Do I really want to put myself under that much pressure? Do I really want to put my family under that much pressure? Besides, when I do get to finally showoff my fabulous new career I want it to be AMAZING not average or worse still...ho-hum! 

So I decided to get realisitic and focus on what I can accomplish in a short-time frame and readjust my expectations - or at least trust that while my intuition is guiding me along the right path, I need to follow the path completely, not just expect to cross the finish line before I've done the leg work (again with the cliches!).

It will happen, I can feel it, but I wont rush in to something because I think I've finally cracked the clues spinning around in my heart and my head. After all, patience is a virtue. Or so I'm told.

Helen Thomas over at A Mother's Intuition says it very well: 

Part of the lesson in learning to follow your intuition is to let go of your attachment to outcomes. You cannot guarantee that making a particular decision (whether based on intuition or not) will guarantee the outcome you wish.

Image: The EveryGirl