Category: Spawn

There’s so much more to it than I ever thought possible.

First World Problems

The awesome company that Mark works for are shouting us a trip. A recovery trip, anywhere we want to go – they will pay for it. When Mark took time off after the babies were born, and Archie died, he didn’t have much sick leave accrued, as he had only been with the company for a few months. So they just paid him. His full salary, with no leave debt. They just paid him.

I am pretty well staggered by how awesome they have been already, and this trip is just what this little family needs, to get away from everything for a short break, white sandy beaches and daiquiris have a lot of appeal right now.

There is just one problem. Where to go?

Here are the parameters;

We’d like the option of a kids club. Inigo is three now, and might actually enjoy being off having adventures. Or he might scream the place down and it would be a waste of time, but it would be a good thing to at least try.

We’d like white sandy beaches, daiquiris, and poolboys. Ok, I am prepared to compromise on the poolboys.

Somewhere the Australian dollar is strong – although the company is paying, I don’t expect they will chip in spending money.

I need internets. No, not planning on being attached to the computer 24/7 while on holiday, but I may need to access the university website to do some uni work.

Not too far in travel time – I used to have a theory that the number of hours in flight time should equal the number of weeks spent in a given country. This time we will only have a week or so, so less travel time is better than more.

Price. Obviously, we’re not paying, but I don’t want to push the friendship. Nor do I want to stay in my usual backpackers hovels. I want running water, I want electricity, and goddammit, I want air conditioning. And poolboys.

And this last one might be a bit of a stretch, but I’d like somewhere that has decent vegetarian food. Not that I am particularly vegetarian these days, but I still see myself as a vegetarian, and won’t eat anything but veggie food in front of the kid. One day my moral compass will point north again, but for now I have bigger fish to fry.

Last parameter. I’d really like to holiday somewhere that isn’t going to have a revolution, an earthquake, a tsunami or a hurricane.

Is that too much to ask?

Any ideas?

PS. TMI WARNING>>>

I have a nasty virus. If you’ve seen me lately, watch out for a sore throat and cough, severe stomach cramps, and gastro like symptoms. Apparently it’s going around, and my doctor recommends keeping your fluids up and resting. I recommend gin and panadeine forte.

I need an excuse to buy a new lunchbag

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Customisable, and available here.

I’m not making anything by advertising these guys, but I am a fan. They do really cute name puzzles, and I have been buying them for birthday presents over the years. When I found out that Oscar lost a letter from his, I emailed them to ask if replacements were available. “Sure”, they said, “what colour do you need, we’ll send it out at no cost”. Awesome.

Clicking

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I don’t believe in a higher power. I don’t believe in fate. I want to believe in karma, but I don’t. But sometimes, things fit together so perfectly, that you have to wonder if there is some crazy connection. Serendipity squared.

On Sunday night, I applied to study Psychology at uni. On Monday, I saw an offer on Freecycle of Psychology textbooks in Merrylands. I responded straight away, and the reply came back straight away with an address. Which was less than 500m from my front door.

I went to pick up the textbooks on Thursday afternoon. I met Ruth, who is a retired psychologist, and academic. She was lovely, and offered to help me with my homework! At this point I began to feel that this was really happening. I was going to go to uni – how could I not with such a positive “sign”.

And then I got home and checked my email. There was an email from UNE, and I logged in to my account to find out that I had been offered a place in the Social Work degree – and missed out on my first choice. Yes, a smart person would have thought a bit more about preferences, but hey, it was all very last minute.

But when I missed out, it just didn’t feel right. One of those “this isn’t the way this is supposed to happen” moments. Like when I went into labour with Archimedes. Not RIGHT. Not OK.

I couldn’t do anything to change the outcome for my beautiful Archie, but I could do something about this, so I did.

And in other news…

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This is what happens when a small boy with good suction comes across a small Yakult bottle. Photographed in Hyde Park after Miriam’s birthday lunch.

When I was a kid, my maternal grandparents would collect spare change throughout the year in a big glass jar. Mostly copper coins, at the end of the year we would carry the jar on the train to Martin Place, where my grandmother would take us to the beautiful Commonwealth Bank Building. We’d meet Dad, who worked there, and he would put the money through the big counting machine and add it all up. It was then divided by two, Adam and I would each get half to buy ourselves a christmas present.

Then we’d have lunch (usually at the Woolies cateteria, or fish and chips that we would eat in the park). And then Nanna would take us to St Mary’s Cathedral, where we would light a candle. Nanna would pray, for Michael, for her mother, I never knew, but I knew it was a special place, and meaningful to her.

So after we had Miriam’s birthday lunch (at Bodhi, where Mark & I had our wedding reception almost 7 years ago), I took Inigo to the cathedral, where we lit a candle for Nanna, and one each for Archie and Aubrey.

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An out of body experience

Apparently, I just applied for university.

On Friday, I found out that UNE applications close tonight at midnight, so today, Inigo skipped his nap, and went to bed at 5.30 so mama could scan documents and talk herself up.

Number one on my list is a Bachelor of Psychology with Honours. This is either proof that I am completely unhinged, or a great way to distract myself from the inescapable pain of everyday life.

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And here is a picture of a small boy in a home made tutu.