Fun Times Ahead!

The next week and a half is going to be a busy busy time.

So much to look forward to, and some not so fun things to do. Luckily the good is outweighing the bad.

Tuesday I'm heading up to Sydney to spend a night or two with some of my lovely friends. I'm so looking forward to dressing up and going out for a nice dinner [let's hope PNut sleeps like an angel during dinner].

The following Wednesday, PNut and I will begin our road trip to Queensland. It's just a mumma and bubba road trip, so I'm a little nervous about that. I'm sure we'll be fine, but I can't help but be a little nervous. Plenty of stops have been planned along the way, and I'll load up the iPhone with tunes a plenty. Poor PNut will have to suffer two full days of mumma's car-aoke.

In between the fun times, I'll be packing, sorting, washing ... all the fun of travelling!

x

Road Trip!

The wheels are in motion [not literally] for our road trip back to Brisbane. The journey of 1100km+ for PNut, myself, and a roped in co-driver [still accepting applications for this role].

To get down to dad's/grandpa's my sister and niece flew up to Brisbane, and the four of us trekked down. PNut was about 6 weeks old at the time, and slept most of the way. My niece kept us well informed of this. "She's sleeping." "Muu-uuum, she's still sleeping!" "Aunty Gemma, Penny hasn't woken up yet". 

I will not be making the return trip with a talking child [unless a certain almost 7 month old decides she'll come out with first words between now and then].

This time, we'll trek back up in dad's trusty ol' car, with myself and my co-driver amusing ourselves with car-aoke with the tunes pumping out from my iPhone [the car has no stereo, according to dad it doesn't need one]. What can I say, I like to travel in style.

I'm really looking forward to getting back to Brisbane. So much so that today, feeling in the mood for some serious driving, I had an urge to just keep driving straight through town and as far as I could get. I refrained, as I haven't yet packed. That and a few of my lovely girlfriends would've been less than impressed as we're going on a girls trip in a week and a half's time. Oh, and the small matter of not yet having accommodation sorted.

Readers, I'd like to recommend to you all that you do not try and find accommodation from 1100km+ away from where you want to live. It's not an easy task. So our plan is to stay with a friend for a couple of months until PNut and I find our home. To be honest, I'm that keen to get back to Brisbane, I've considered camping out in someone's, anyone's!, backyard. PNut probably wouldn't be overly impressed, but it's never to early to camp, right?

Two days, a lot of road, good conversation, questionable car-aoke and wholesome fast food. Sounds like fun, right? Yes? Want to be a co-driver? 

x

Random Acts of Kindness

For something different, I'm doing a bit of procrastinating [and secretly hoping that load of washing will hang itself out] and watching The Circle.

They were discussing Random Acts of Kindness and it got me thinking about RAoK that have happened to me.

When I had PNut, I had nothing for her. After giving birth, I literally thought 'Shit. Where's she going to sleep? Can I put her on a pillow in a washing basket?'. I needn't have worried. When the visitors started arriving, so did the gifts. The generosity floored me. From people at work [both colleagues, and others who I knew from the floor I worked on, but didn't associate with] I was given a massive bag full of clothes, wipes and all sorts of bits and pieces, as well as a very generous voucher and some cash. Friends also brought gifts for myself and my new baby girl, and members of a forum I frequented also rallied together and gave me a voucher. So spoilt. So kind.

As a mum, you're often the recipient of RAoKs. Helping you on buses & trains, holding doors open. 

The last time I flew to Brisbane, I was trying to wheel a heavy suitcase and a stroller around. Not an easy task when the stroller can't be steered one-handed, but I was soldiering on. Then as I went to board a train, a lovely older gentleman grabbed my suitcase for me and offered to help. He helped me onto that train, off it at the airport, and up to the check-in floor. He was even going to wheel my suitcase over to the check-in counter for me. Bless. 

It's people like that who restore your faith in the world.

Have you been the recipient of a RAoK?

x

These Days

Here I sit. 26. Single. Mumma. Living with my dad. On Maternity Leave. 

If my 16-year-old self had looked 10 years into the future and viewed the 26-year-old me, she probably would've said "Really? Are you sure? That's me?!"

I've never really had grand plans for my life. I've dreamt of amazing possibilities, of successful careers. Not so much about the children and the partners. A sign of my fierce independence? Perhaps. A sign of the knowledge that these things would be a definite and didn't need to be dreamt of? More likely.

Once upon a time, I attended uni. I had dreams of a career as a journalist. Then I had to rethink decisions and work out what I really wanted. At the wise age of 19, I decided that the most important things for me were to be a wife and a mother.

So I became a wife. The possibility of becoming a mother was discussed. The husband kept delaying and delaying. I kept waiting and wondering what I was doing with my life in the meantime. Waiting, wondering, reassessing. Eventually I got jack of waiting and walked.

I walked into a new life. A life that felt more fitting for the person I was and am. A life that was mine. Where I made the decisions for me.

I toyed with the decision of settling down again, but realised that I was sacrificing myself again. So again I walked.

I walked into my old life. The more fitting life. I had one of the best years of my life. I was me. Friendships were strengthened, and new ones blossomed. In my 25th year I realised that I was finally confident in myself. I was happy being myself, and I felt strong enough to know that I would not let go of this person again. I was ready to let someone else into my life.

The person I had in mind wasn't really the person I got. I was thinking someone along the lines of a partner. Someone to share my life with. To laugh with, to love, to walk the paths of life with.

The person I got was my baby girl. I will share my life with here, I will laugh with her and love her. 

My baby girl is now almost seven months old and I'm ready to find that partner to share my life with. He's out there. Somewhere. Maybe closer than I think?

One thing is for sure, 'these days turned out nothing like I had planned'*.

*These Days, Powderfinger

Tragedy!

Okay, so in the grand scheme of things, it's an inconvenience, not a tragedy, but right now it feels like just when I had a foot back in the door of civilisation, said door swung closed and my foot is a little sore.

My laptop has gone to laptop heaven [figuratively speaking, it's actually sitting on the dining table]. It was working fine, then as I sat it down so I could dash downstairs to get the pizza, the screen went all funny. I thought nothing of it. Until I sat back down and tried to reboot. Nada. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Goneski. Kaput.

I tweeted about the demise of my lifeline, and a friend did some Dr. Googling for me. Self-diagnosis? Motherboard is motherbleeped.

I could, and perhaps should, go and confirm this at a computer store, but knowing that they'd probably charge me a ridiculous amount just to look at it, I decided to spare myself the torture of signing over more money every time I saw them, and the agony of waiting for a confirmed diagnosis and bought myself a new laptop.

I should have her late next week. Oh how I will adore her. Until then, I'll just have to use dad's laptop when I can, and also my iPhone [I'll try not to go over the data limit quite so much this time]. So blog posts will have to be a sacrifice, but I will blog when I can. It's only a week. Right? I can cope. Surely.

x