To Sleep...Perchance to Dream.

I'm sitting at my desk with the best intentions in the world. I want to write, no, I need to write, yet some sort of external force is preventing me from writing the post I had in mind for today. This 'force' as I shall call her has decided that the five minute cat nap she had in the car today counts as sleep and therefore she no longer needs any tonight......which kind of sucks, want to know why? Because I had actually planned on sleeping. You know that thing you do when you close your eyes and actually rest? Yeah, that one.

At the moment sleep is elusive. I desire it, I need it, yet it is always slightly out of reach. Something or someone always interrupts it. Usually one of the kids needing the toilet, a drink, a hug. There are Bogey men to chase, wet beds to change, illness to deal with. It also doesn't help that Miss 2  has now joined us in bed of a night. I know, I know, rod for my own back and all that....but I'm just too damn tired to do anything about it.

Then there is Hubby. Hubby has a tendency to want to grope at night time. He would happily sleep with his big, hairy body wrapped around my significantly smaller and rather more hairless version. Trouble is that it's kind of hard to exhale (or inhale for that matter) with the great lummox on top of me. 'Would you move!' I growl as best I can when having difficulty breathing. So, he grumps off to his side of the bed and then proceeds to fall asleep and snore.....loudly. I'm sure that it's his way of seeking revenge.

Even when they are all sleeping soundly it seems that I am not. I toss and turn. I think endlessly. I hear strange noises and imagine all sorts of things. The clock ticks pathetically in my ear. 'Sleep dammit, just sleep!' I tell myself, although it seems that it's not only Hubby and the children who don't listen to me...... I don't even listen to myself.

At some ridiculous hour I finally nod off, only to be awoken by an affectionate lick from the dog, waking me to take him on his morning run......so sleep is forsaken for another night.

But tonight I have other plans......

While I have been writing things have brightened, I am sipping relaxing chamomile tea given by a friend. Miss 2 has finally dozed off on my lap (Hallelujah!) Hubby is still at work. A few chapters of a good book are awaiting me. There is hope for me yet.

So sleep, my elusive friend, tonight I am seeking you. Please, please, please co-operate and let me partake in some much needed and wanted rest. Thank you!

A Romantic Getaway.

First of all I would like to send ‘big hugs’ to all the lovely people who floated past this page yesterday/today and left some love. You all helped me to feel so much better. Today, I feel stronger and happier. Today my head is clear and I feel like I can deal with the world just a little bit better. Thank you.

Now, I’m going to rewind just a little bit. To Friday night when my darling husband and I made our little ‘escape’ and managed to spend a whole night all alone........mmmmm, bliss!

We had planned to go away months in advance. So, I had researched romantic getaways on the Internet. We didn’t want to travel too far from our children so we settled on the picturesque mountain village of Springbrook.  Anyone not knowing where this is it is in the hinterland behind the Gold Coast. One of the (many) great things about living on the GC is that you can be at the beach and then 15 minutes later you can be out in the rainforest...amazing.

So, we travelled  the winding (and sometimes frightening) road up the mountain and before long we were in the beautiful little village of Springbrook. We made our way to our accommodation, which had been recommended to me via a friend.

'The Mouses House' is set amongst pristine rainforest . When we arrived we visited the friendly and accommodating owners and then made our way to our chalet; The chalets are set a good distance apart to insure complete privacy...which is oh, so important when you are on a romantic getaway!

The chalet.....

and the view outside.

To say the setting is reminiscent of a fairytale is not exaggerating. And it wasn't odd or even remotely cheesy that the chalets were named after fairytale characters. The chalet that welcomed us was very aptly named 'Bashful'

Bashful wrapped us up it's warm embrace from the moment we entered. The interior was gorgeous, inviting and very, very clean. We were at home straight away. It wasn't long before we settled in front of the fire place with a glass of champers....now, that's what I'm talking about!

Everything was beautiful and comfortable but the thing that struck me, more than anything else...was the silence.....having lived in close quarters with four children for a very long time does not give you much of a chance for contemplative thinking or long intense talks with Hubby or even a visit to the toilet uninterrupted...but we did all of these things...and more (wink, wink!)

Looking a bit craggy first thing in the morning!

We ate delicious food, went on rambling walks and generally soaked up the beauty and the atmosphere. We slept...all night long (yes, a miracle!)We talked for hours and reconnected. It was wonderful...magical.

So we've planned to return. Every year on our wedding anniversary (even though the children will probably come with us from now on) Next time we plan to stay a little longer and you know what? I can hardly wait!

2 Adults, 4 Kids, 2 weeks....and a Camper.

On this day of September 2010 my husband and I had a plan; the plan was insane, crazy and completely irrational. Hubby and I were beside ourselves with excitement and just a little terrified at the prospect.

      Taking four children on a 2 week holiday around Tasmania in a camper van may not be everyone’s cup of tea, in fact it was possible it wasn’t ours either…but we were willing to give it a try.

With our 50 bags of luggage packed, plane tickets safely enclosed in my handbag and kids piled into the car we turned to look at their expectant little faces, they had no idea what they were in for….neither did we.

Ready for anything!

      I would like to think that we were suitably prepared for the plane trip but sometimes the best laid plans soon become unravelled. Children are unpredictable creatures and the most unpredictable of all children is definitely the restrained toddler……cue kicking, screaming, crying, and shouting. The other children did not escape unscathed either. Miss 8 was soon vomiting (apparently this one suffers from motion sickness), Mr 10 sobbed very loudly that his ears were hurting and that planes are the most boring thing “ever”. The only one having a good time was Mr 4 seated comfortably by the window, “This is awesome!” he enthused.

  Finally the toddler stopped screaming and fell asleep. Five minutes later the plane landed in Launceston. Our fellow passengers all departed with slightly dazed expressions, we apologised profusely to anyone that would listen as we tried to disembark. Hubby was struggling with a sleeping baby while I managed the two sick, whinging children and Mr Happy.

Russell Falls

The camper van we had hired was smaller, older and dirtier than the pictures we had seen of it on the Internet. I tried to hide my chagrin as we handed over an exorbitant amount of money for our two week trip.

  

Soon, everyone was strapped in and we were on our way. The trip was eventful to say the least. Lot’s of winding roads equalled a lot of vomiting from Miss 8, continuous whining from the toddler and not much interest from Mr 10 who had his head either buried in a book or was busy playing some sort of fan dangled electronic device. Mr 4 however was happy with whatever each day handed out to us. Constant stops for toilet breaks, food and for my poor, long suffering hubby to empty the chemical loo meant for a relatively slow trip. The scenery was incredible; lush, green, rolling hills surrounded by wilderness. Even the main cities; Launceston and Hobart were strikingly pretty.

Wineglass Bay....Beautiful
(Ignore the date on this one, crazy camera!)

We were amazed by the clarity of Wineglass Bay and enjoyed the walk immensely.

We made friends at all the different camping grounds along the way.

We ate the famous scallop pies and visited old-fashioned lolly shops.

Port Arthur was eerie and of unbelievable beauty. Hubby, the older children and I were enthralled by the history of the place...it was like travelling back in time. Mr 4 just loved the boat ride.

  

Snow Angels (!?)

One of the most magical moments of our experience was when it snowed while at Cradle Mountain. Not only had the children never seen snow before but at 31 years of age it was my first time too. The children were amazed at the powder like texture of the freshly fallen snow and we quickly set about throwing snowballs at each other, making snowmen and snow angels.

 It was wonderful watching our children delight in the beauty of nature, it is a memory that we will always hold dear.

   

Snow!

A night of snow and we were stuck!

Unfortunately that night the snow became heavier and when we awoke the next morning we were well and truly stuck. We needed to be in Launceston that day as we had booked some prior accommodation to get a break from the camper. We tried unsuccessfully a number of times to drive out ourselves but only succeeded in lodging the camper on top of a large log that was hidden in the snow. To our rescue came the owner of the camping grounds who had us pulled out in no time with the help of his tractor. The roads out were slippery but drivable and we made good time back to Launceston.

The next two days were spent in the comfort of a resort. There was room for the children to play, good food and most importantly a hot shower, flushable loo and comfortable beds. It is amazing how much you miss these simple things when you have to go without.

Bed hogs!

On our last morning in Tasmania the children and I sat huddled around our digital camera looking back on all the photos of our trip. We laughed at all the funny images and reflected on all the wonderful things we had seen and done.

Now, exactly one year on from the day we boarded that plane to head into the unknown; Hubby the children and I remember it as one of best things we have ever done. Mr (now) 5 asks us on a regular basis....’When are we going back to Tasmania?’

Soon buddy, soon.

 

Tiptoe through the tulips!

   

A Perfect Little Wifey

Image by me!

When Hubby drives home from work at night I'm sure he fantasises about the perfect scenario of domestic goddessness that 'could' be waiting for him when he arrives home.

His lovely little wifey waiting for him with baited breath, eagerly anticipating the arrival of her beloved; the king of the castle; the man of the house.

Surfaces gleaming with cleanliness. Delicious dinner lovingly cooked and still piping hot. Cold beer freshly poured. Washing neatly folded and ready to be put away. Children either quietly engaged in a meaningful activity; or better still, in bed asleep.

When he walks through the door he is greeted with adoration and a touch of reverence. His dinner and beer is served up to him and his lovely wifey (me) sits and listens to him reminisce about the hardships of his day, while topping up his beer when it dips dangerously low.

After his meal and when the dishes have been done by his 'perfect wifey', he receives a adoring back rub and then of course his fantasy ends with....well, we all know what it ends with....use your imagination.......or not......if it completely grosses you out.

The reality is much harsher and a lot less 'pretty'.

Wifey is of course eagerly anticipating his arrival...but only because she wants to palm off Miss 2 and her poopy bum as soon as he walks through the door.

Struggling and smelly child is dumped into his arms as soon as he enters the disaster zone. After negotiating the toys littering the floor he is immediately assailed by the older children all demanding his undivided attention. The never ending washing pile is, of course, thrown in a jumbled heap on the couch awaiting the non-existent moment when it may get folded.

Meanwhile, lovely little wifey is bellowing instructions to him from the kitchen while she haphazardly throws together dinner...............

'Miss 2 needs changing....It's Mr 5's turn in the bathtub....Miss 8 has a complex Math problem I don't understand....Mr 11 left his dental plate here again.....Can you set the table?'

After dinner is seen to and the craziness subsides just a little; he may get a cuddle and a kiss and a welcome home from his 'perfect little wifey'. He may get listened to as he helps her do the dishes. He may even score the back rub once the children are in bed....but only if he gives his wifey one too........and the rest? If wifey can keep her eyes open maybe that as well........if he should be so lucky.



Sick of Sickness

image from weheartit.com

By the time Spring dances along, flicking her sunshiny hair and flipping her pretty floral skirts; you kind of expect that illness is done and dusted for the year. With the warmer weather finally approaching I began to anticipate months of outdoors, sunshine and good health....and then it happened....the family was once again king hit by the flu.

This morning when we awoke to start another week, two of our members were out for the count, comatose, immobile.

Now, certain people in this household react in different ways to illness....as you would well expect......

Hubby, of course, suffers as only a male could possibly suffer. The world is ending. There is disaster and impending doom. No one in the history of mankind has ever been so sick before. He is dying.... do you think you should ring the doctor....or an ambulance? If he has to do anything that requires any sort of effort it is with an air of martyrdom.

When Mr 11 is sick he is properly sick. He will lie in bed all day and barely move. Occasionally he will have a little cry or just need a hug but otherwise he will sleep and read like all good sick children should.

Miss 8 moans. She whinges and demands. She needs a cup of tea, a glass of lemonade, a sandwich. "Mum, I feel like soup' she'll cry. "Mum, I need a tissue', 'Mum I want an apple' It seems that being sick also temporarily removes her ability to use her manners.

Mr 5 is amazingly stoic while unwell. He will occasionally tell me his head hurts and will have a bit of a lie down, but other than that he will be a quieter version of his normal self. He still wants me to play endless games with him so it doesn't dampen his spirits in the slightest.

Miss 2 remains at her tornado best despite whatever illness is handed out to her. She'll continue to create mayhem and ransack the house even with raging temps and a rotten headache.  When sick she is still a spirited and busy toddler....just an unbelievably snotty one.

I don't do sick. And when I do occasionally fall prey to the dreaded lurgy I do so badly. So if you cop a whinge from me when unwell I apologise....I don't have time to be sick.

As you could probably predict the two members of the household who were run down by this calamity were quite possibly the two who are the worst to have stuck at home all day demanding things (Hubby and Miss 8)  All I hope is for a speedy recovery so I can regain my sanity. And most of all face masks for the rest of us so we don't catch it too!

The Too Hard Basket

image thanks to weheartit.com

There are days when things just become too difficult. Days when I feel like climbing back into bed, pulling my blankets over my head and wishing that I could go back to sleep. Days where I wished that I had a 'Too Hard' basket and I could just dump the offending day in there.....
'Damn you Friday! In the 'Too Hard' basket you go!'

This morning I awoke early.....too early, to find a small person breathing very loudly in my ear. 'Mum' he loudly whispered, 'Mum, will you get up and play cars with me?'

No, no I won't get up and play bloody cars with you. It is five fifteen in the morning...I want to sleep damn you...I want to sleep!

Of course I didn't actually say this, I sort of muttered 'In a minute darling, go and wait for Mummy in the lounge room' and then promptly fell back asleep. Only to wake up at quarter to seven and completely freak out because the latest I can sleep in with out being ridiculously late is quarter past six.

Then, understandably Mr 5 (the early riser) was miffed. Quite possibly because I had kept him waiting in the lounge for an hour and a half to play cars.

Mr 5 in a good mood is delightful. Mr 5 in a bad mood is, quite frankly, scary.

So, he grumped through breakfast, grumped through getting dressed, grumped through teeth, hair and packing bags, grumped through tidying his room and grumped his way out to the car.

'Sorry,' I kept saying, 'I'm really sorry, we'll play cars this afternoon...I promise' I kissed, cuddled and tried to mollify him while I searched in the voracious depths that is my bag for my car keys........

Snotty tissue from Miss 2.....ick.......squashed sultanas stuck to my purse.....yuck......soggy bit of biscuit.....ugh......lip gloss minus the lid, sticky contents everywhere....sigh.....but, you guessed it, no keys.

'Darling, have you seen my keys!' I bellow....waking up any nice, normal neighbours that may be sleeping at that hour (who hadn't already been woken by Mr 5's grumping)

Of course he hadn't.

So then we all scour the house trying to find the damn things. I dump the contents of my filthy hand bag on the dining table...no keys. We check kids bags, counter tops, kitchen draws, under beds, beneath couch cushions and in every little nook and cranny imaginable...no keys.

By this stage we irrecoverably and incredibly late. It takes twenty minutes in peak hour traffic to get my children to school and today was the one day that we needed to be there early for dance rehearsals.

I end up leaving my poor husband with my key less car and 'borrowing' his.

Once the children had been safely deposited at school I flew home so Hubby could actually go to work. He had spent the time I had been gone searching for lost keys and when I had arrived home had still had no joy.

I walked in and noticed Miss Two's tea set sitting on a step. On a whim I picked up a little pot and lifted the lid....there were my keys.

Hubby and I clutched each other laughing at our own stupidity........'So,' I said cheerfully....'Can I go back to bed now?'

Caught Out!

Today I was caught out....discovered......dobbed in.......and all by a two year old.
You see, I have a system. A secret plan. One that only two people were privy to. Me and Miss Tornado Two had an understanding, an agreement if you will.

Every time Little Miss deposited something 'unsavoury' in her nappy we would put our little plan into action.

She would come up to me, point to her nappy and say 'Poopy'.
'That's lovely darling' I would whisper conspirationally, 'Now go and tell Dadda'
Off she would waddle with a significant 'bulge' around her bottom to find the unsuspecting 'Dadda'.

And Hubby, with no clue whatsoever about being set up, would change our beloved toddler's nappy.

It has always been unfortunate that Miss Tornado Two does the most vile poos imaginable. Considering her diet consists of strawberries, yogurt, peas and cheese, the stuff emanating from her bottom is, to put it mildly, freaking disgusting.

So, I would always feel (slightly) guilty whenever Hubby was 'lumped' with bum clean up duty....for about a minute anyway.

Hubby could never quite fathom that whenever he was home he seemed to change an inordinate amount of poop.

Until....my plan fell flat on it's face...and all thanks to my partner in crime.

Little Miss had just produced yet another enormous and incredibly stinky offering, and as per usual I had sounded her out to go and find her poor, long suffering Father.
I stood around the corner so I hear Hubby's curses and mutterings as he tackled the diabolical thing and I could giggle accordingly (sadistic, I know)

Then it all backfired.

'Dadda' piped that sweet and innocent little voice 'Mumma said change poopy'.

'Mumma said!' What's with the 'Mumma said?!'

Dadda, whoops I mean Hubby, was not impressed. "Mumma said did she!' I could hear him bellow. He rounded the corner to find me red-faced, ashamed and nearly doubled over with laughter.

So, I ended up changing the damn thing. And there is only one way to describe that experience.....Absolutely repulsive.

Grateful for.....................Us.

Contemplating what I'm feeling the most grateful for this week was basically a no-brainer. Hubby and I had a rough start to the year. Not relationship wise, just every other aspect of life felt like it was on top of us....weighing us down.

Now, we've come out the other side. The clouds have lifted. We have breathing space again.

So this week I'm grateful for us...Hubby and I.

Affectionate
Devoted
Enduring
Tender
Beautiful
Solid
Complicated
Honest
Funny
Crazy
Impossible
Generous
Sweet
Frustrating
Annoying
Nurturing
Sympathetic
Loving
Eternal


Head over to Maxabella Loves and share some Grateful Love.........