And after about 30 hours travelling...

...We're here!
I won't bore you with the gory details of the horror of sitting in the two middle seats of the middle aisle with a six year old for fourteen hours straight (packed plane meant we couldn't sit together), especially when the plane we were on didn't have the personal entertainment system on the back of each seat. I know Louis CK addressed our feeling of entitlement with regard to air travel (click here if you haven't seen it) and I tended to agree with him at the time,

but it didn't stop me from feeling completely incensed and ripped off when I boarded the plane and realized that I was going to have to survive that marathon flight without being able to sedate my child with the latest from the Disney channel. Luckily I spent a few hours loading up her iPod before we left.

We ended up having six hours to kill in Sydney so we visited the aquarium in Darling Harbour. It is such a fantastic aquarium with, among other things, glass tunnels that you can walk through while the fish swim all around you. But right now they also have a special Lego showcase on so there were these amazing statues and murals made entirely out of Lego! The kids loved it and I was pretty fascinated myself.





Of course as fun as that all was what we really wanted to do was just get to Adelaide. You know when you've been waiting for something for so long, anticipating and thinking about it for weeks and weeks and then when it happens it's a bit of a let down? Well this is completely not like that at all. I really wanted to get some shots of all the airport hugging and kissing and general mayhem but I was preoccupied to put it mildly. The gang was all there (minus Toddy. Somebody's gotta work!).

I don't know how to put into words how wonderful it is, when you've been away from your family for so long, to just do everyday things together.

This morning, after taking the kids out to pick mulberries from the garden, I chatted with Nat in her kitchen while I washed dishes and she cut vegetables. And it was awesome. So, so great. I continually remind myself to soak it all in.

But there are down sides too. Like how my dad almost hit me with the car this morning. I was out jogging and he was driving one way while looking another. As you do. But that's all in a day when you're hanging out with Big Al. And the key word is almost. All's well that ends well.

Heading Down Under...

Okay, so I’ve decided to temporarily commandeer my List of 5 blog (I know, not much to commandeer these days) in an attempt to keep a travel blog for our family Australia trip. If you are asking yourself, why in the world do I care about a suburban family’s trip Down Under, I completely understand. I advise you to click away right now and find something more pertinent / entertaining. Perhaps the latest post on Muammar Gaddafi or um, say Charlie Sheen, since they both seem equally ubiquitous and, you know, bat shit.
But if you are interested in something a little more light hearted with a bit less civil unrest / porn star activity then stick around.

People often say to me that it must be difficult living so far away from your family. And most of the time it does. Most of the time it sucks in a big way. (Cue violins) In my adult life I have never experienced a spontaneous shopping trip with my beloved sister or popping round to my parents’ for Sunday dinner. (Okay, violins can stop now.) But this is the upside. All of my fun family goodness (as well as a little bit of inevitable family drama, I’m sure) squeezed into two weeks. Starting on Sunday with one of the perks of having loved ones far away: The Airport Pickup.

Let’s see. My mum and dad both visited in 2010 but I haven’t seen my sister in over a year. Hubby and the kids haven’t been to Oz in four years. They’ve never met their little nephew/cousin. When they see him at the airport in Adelaide it will be for the first time. I think they’re all coming to the airport, including the adored F&F. (More on them later.) In today’s “reality” TV world, perhaps it doesn’t compare to the partially manufactured drama of The Bachelor or whatever that Snookie show is, but in my little life, The Airport Pickup is all the drama I need or want.

And needless to say,

I. Can’t. Wait.


(Oh, btw, I’ve got a fun little surprise for one of the Fs that I want to tell you about later. Nothing big, just something I know she would get a kick out of. But it may or may not work out…)

5 tantrum tactics

Some of you may be aware that we live with a diva. I’m not proud. I don’t know how two reasonably intelligent adults who both grew up in relatively normal households could breed a monster who looks remarkably like a cute, little five-year-old girl. But we have.

I justified it to myself by saying that many mothers of five-year-old girls have told me about their whining monsters. True. But if all of the other mothers jumped off a bridge… (Although, sometimes the diva makes me want to jump off a bridge.)

So we sought help. Professional help. I’m not ashamed. I’ll admit it. I don’t know if we were out of our depth or if we just needed someone to put it to us in straightforward terms. Regardless, we got advice. And one of the things we were instructed to do was to wait out a tantrum. Don’t get angry. Don’t threaten or cajole or plead. Simply ignore it.

Miss Diva tried many tactics to try and win over my attention with her negative behaviour. Here are five:

1. I’m hungry. “I’m hungry” quickly turned into “I’m starving” which soon was “I’m starving to death” and then “I’m going to die if I don’t get some food.” (This from the girl who turned her nose up at scrambled eggs a mere two minutes beforehand.) This tactic, by the way, came back at the end, (after “I wanna talk to Daddy” – see #5) with an “I’m starving like an animal who never, ever gets to eat” reprisal.

2. I need a tissue. Really, I thought “I have to go pee” would precede any other requests pertaining to bodily functions, the diva knowing how I usually jump at the mere mention of pee. What can I say? She surprised me. Or perhaps she was a little off her game this morning. You know, being on the verge of death due to starvation and all.

3. I need to throw this tissue in the garbage. Okay, I giggled a little at this one. Quietly, of course.

4. I need my teddy bear. Thirty seconds before this tactic she had started to quiet down to the point where I had my mouth open to tell her to come out (I was only waiting for ten seconds of silence) when the teddy bear whining started up. So close!

5. I wanna talk to Daddy. This one was my fault. At the thirty minute mark (Yes, I said thirty minutes. Of a tantrum.) I decided to give hubby a call. In a shift from the norm, it wasn’t to gripe however. It was just to give a cheerful update on the status of events, i.e. that the new sheriff was in town and she had started throwing people in the clink, uh, I mean, time out. Anyway, as soon as she heard the phone the “I wanna talk to Daddy” song started, complete with a chorus of “I wanna tell him all about how this happened.”

There were a couple more tactics. Worth mentioning are “I wanna go to my room,” and “I wanna go to school,” two places she normally is loathe to go. The whole thing lasted 55 minutes. Oh yes. Our little diva is nothing if not stubborn.

Hm. I wonder where she gets that from? Perhaps from her mother. Who lasted the 55 minutes. And did not give in. *Cue triumphant and thunderous applause*

Day one of the new sheriff in town: Mama 1. Diva 0.

5 impossible kid questions

1. How high can you count? I have never been very good at math. If I had the time to sit around and just count, how high could I go? How many billions in a trillion? What comes after trillion? Is zillion a real number?

2. What’s this song all about, Mom? (Max, asking about “Mr. Brightside” by the Killers).

Me: Well, it’s about a guy who likes a girl but she likes another guy.
Max: Why does she like another guy?
Me: I don’t know. She just does.
Max: Why doesn’t he find another girl to like?
Me: He just likes her. He doesn’t want to find another one.
Max: Why is he in a cage?
Me: Ummmmmm …

3. Why does the sun follow us everywhere we go? I tried the “it’s really big,” “it’s not really following us” stuff. At three years old, this explanation does not satisfy. It’s big, it’s yellow, I’m looking out the car window and I can see it following me. Everywhere. Why does it do that?

4. Is it tomorrow today? Who knew existentialism would be something that came up in conversation with a five year old? Try answering this: “No, it’s tomorrow tomorrow,” and you’ll get: “Then will it be tomorrow?” So you may say: “No, then tomorrow will be tomorrow,” and after fifteen minutes I’m fairly certain you can reach enlightenment in much the same way as is possible after pondering the Zen koan, “What is the sound of one hand clapping?”

5. What’s the opposite of peanut butter? Um, jam? No peanut butter? Bread?

5 things I’ve learned about life from going to the gym

I’ve had a tough four months. I won’t bore you with all the gory details. I’ll just say that I’ve had the emotional wind knocked out of me more times than I care to think about.

Through it all I continued to work out. This is in stark contrast to the fair-weather work out style I normally have. Normally there’s an I-have-to-be-in-a-bikini-in-three-months panic that propels me into a frenzy of lunges, jumping jacks and bicep curls, which I then abandon the moment the weight has been lost and the bikini wearing has occurred.

But around this time last year I started going to a gym. And I found that keeping in shape on a regular basis is not only healthier physically but mentally as well.

And lucky for me that, when this emotional storm hit, I had this routine established. It turned out to be a life saver. When my heart hurt so badly it felt like it might burst, when my head spun from being unable to stop thinking about all the torment, for an hour I could go and transfer that pain into beneficial physical activity. And thanks to the wisdom of some awesome gym instructors, I started to notice that some of the principles of working out can be applied to facing many challenges in life. Here are five of them.

1. Moments of discomfort build strength.
As I’m lamenting the hurt in my heart while trying to focus on step class one day, I suddenly pick up on something Heather, the ultimate step class instructor, is saying: “Moments of discomfort help to build the heart’s strength. And we all want strong hearts.” Or when Tammy, strong and sensible Power instructor, says during the squat routine: “Get down, go to the bottom. Know you’re going to be there for a while. It’s not supposed to be easy but this is how we build strength.” Something shifts in my brain and I realize that there’s a reason why I’m going through this right now.

2. You’ve always got more than you think.
Often when we’re towards the end of Step class and I feel like I just can’t go on, just can’t summon the energy for one more move, Heather reminds us to “empty the tank.” “You’ve always got more than you think,” she says. And I recognize that, when I think positively, what I think I cannot endure becomes possible. I dig deep and somehow find that as-yet-untapped source.

3. It won’t last forever.
When we start on the intense cardio portion of Step class, I push myself hard and I start to wonder if I can keep it up. “It won’t be for long,” Heather says, “so while we’re here give it everything you’ve got.” My heart eases in the knowledge that, like this cardio burst, the pain can’t last forever. One day it’ll be a memory.

4. Open your heart.
After working and pushing myself beyond my perceived limits, Tammy leads the class in stretching. “Look up,” she says, “spread your arms wide and open your heart.” I need this reminder. Although I may be tired, I may want to lie down, curl up in a ball, shut everyone away, I understand the importance of standing, holding my head high, and not closing my broken heart. But to open it. Arms wide. Heart open.

5. Leave time for stillness.
Then the calm and wise Sue, yoga goddess, reminds us that there is a time to work to make our bodies stronger, and there’s a time for stillness. I lay in the darkened room on my mat and appreciate the quiet in my mind, sigh and feel my body let go, as my mind finally empties. Rejuvenation.

These days when I walk out of the gym it’s not just with the calm satisfaction of having physically pushed myself, but also with mental clarity. A sense of peace.

Moments of discomfort are for a reason. Don’t ignore them. Embrace them. They’ll make the heart stronger.

It won’t last long.

So I’m going to give it everything I’ve got.

5 annoying commercials

1. Blinds to Go. “It’s as calming as my yoga class.” Am I the only one who thinks it’s ridiculous to compare blinds shopping, really any kind of shopping, to a yoga class? I realize I’m a freak of nature in that I’m a woman who hates shopping. I find all the decision making as far away from calming as you can get. But even if you love shopping, is it anything like a yoga class? Maybe this woman tries on an outfit and then does downward dog in the dressing room. Yes, this outfit looks good, but how would it look in warrior one…

2. Eharmony.ca. You know, hubby is a wonderful guy, we have a happy marriage and I would love for everyone to find love and live their lives in, well, in “harmony.” So I am not sure why I find it so reprehensible that some marketing a*holes are trying to sell this annoyingly smug couple as “real” people who found each other on a dating site. I have nothing against dating sites. I know perfectly nice, normal people who have found their matches this way. But these people. The guy doing yoga in the street. The two of them talking about setting up their own store, dancing at five in the morning “with mud and splatter paint.” Ugh. Go away. And by the way, maybe instead of painting you should spend a little time on pool maintenance. It looks like you’re sitting by a swamp.

3. Kleenex. “Touch, touch, touch, touch … feeeel.” I don’t know if this is annoying so much as it just doesn’t work. I don’t go around all day thinking of how I touch everything, and I really don’t need to be reminded. When I grab a tissue it’s usually because someone has just sneezed, has snot running down to her upper lip and is panicking, “Uh! Uh! Mommmmmaaaa!” At this crucial moment I’m really not thinking, “Feeeeeeel…..”.

4. BMO. Okay, the first time I saw this funny-looking blonde woman trying to translate investments as “investmentitos” and matching market fluctuations to the tone of her voice – “sometimes it’s up, sometimes it’s down,” – I kinda chuckled. But after the tenth time it was just annoying. Hm, maybe if I yell louder and put an O on the end of my words she’ll understand me. It’s pretty offensive, actually.

5. Bath Fitter. “Lover Boy! Isn’t it time we did something about the bathroom?”
Right, I saved the best for last. This one is so bad, it’s good. I mean hilarious. Agh! I don’t know where to start. Okay, first. I don’t know anyone who would actually use the term “Lover Boy.” Gross! Not allowed. Here are the only reasonable instances when you may need to utter these words: a) you’re talking about the eighties Canadian rock band or b) you’ve found yourself crawling across the floor with Patrick Swayze, lip syncing to “Love is Strange.” Otherwise, there’s no excuse. But what’s even more hilarious is this guy! If someone were to break the rule and call a man “Lover Boy,” this guy has got to be the antithesis to what these words would conjure in my head. I mean, check out his face as he’s pouring his coffee! It’s too much! And then he says, “I’m just as smart as she is. I called Bath Fitter.” Because it takes a mental giant to pick up a phone and press some buttons. Oh god. I just want to know who was doing the casting when they were putting this ad together. “Yeah, this Brad Pitt look alike is okay for Lover Boy, but where’s that guy who looks like Baba Booey and Millhouse’s love child?”

5 more Max quotes

1. As we’re coming back from the public restrooms at the beach, running past other beach goers and screaming at the top of his lungs: “We’re back, Dad! Mom just had to poo.”

2. Sitting down to his dinner, watching the steam rise off his food: “This is really hot. Not like the pretty kind of hot but the other kind of hot.”

3. With a big smile after proclaiming he wanted salmon sushi for his birthday dinner: “Oh, yeah. That’s how Culps roll.”

4. Looking at me, after meeting his new babysitter for the first time: “I think you’re afraid she’s going to be dad’s new girlfriend.”

5. Waking me up on my birthday with a little baggie of coins from his piggy bank: “Happy birthday, Mom. Here’s 47 cents.”