travel

Beach Break

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

We did a spring break. A mini vacation. A very brief respite from our everyday. Glenn had some bonus time off booked. I took a day off work and we – well, I want to say skipped down to the Gold Coast but that does not at all match with the length of the trip there or back thanks to no trains on the Gold Coast line for, as it turns out, about a month which encompasses the whole school holidays including the long weekend WHAT ARE THEY THINKING but anyway. It was an impromptu booking a week beforehand, so only a week of S thinking we were going that day to the beach where she would build sandcastles and splash in the water. That was a long week.

In writing this post, I have tried writing out a blow-by-blow and it just goes on and on and for someone who’s not actually in our family why would you read that? No. I’ll shorten it for you a tad. You’re welcome.

Day 1. Report card: B … B- … I mean, it was a tough day. Getting to the Gold Coast for us is usually about 90 minutes, maybe 2 hours if connections don’t quite go our way and we are staying at the more southern end. But instead of a zippy train, train, tram, we had to do train, train, rail bus, rail bus that had to go on the highway with all the traffic that doesn’t know how to merge apparently and my goodness me that took a long time, tram. Girls were fantastic, despite the 5 hour trip. We had snacks and did things like look for car and truck colours and there were no screens except to look on the map. 

Day 1 had an anxious C whose anxious came out in grumpy contrariness. I was giving myself an A+ for handling it until I snapped in the late afternoon after walking with her and S along the beach from Q1 to near our hotel (about a kilometre) where both girls wanted to walk in the water and both girls got entirely soaked and sandy and I had a hoarse voice from calling to C to not be so far out and then we were talking about dinner and going to a restaurant for dinner as we had discussed as a whole family already and E had told that to her favourite daycare teacher as the thing she was actually most looking forward to but C started kicking off about not wanting to go anywhere from the hotel once we were back. I snapped. 

As it turned out, we did not go out to dinner.

Glenn had a fairly stressful Day 1, also, with children wanting to sit on him for pretty much the entire trip and then worrying about girls eating – not that I don’t worry about this, too, thank you, but I have also learned through much experience that food is lower on their list than all sorts of other things. If they’re playing, they will hardly eat. If they’re tired, small serves. If they have had a long trip and they know the beach is RIGHT THERE then they will eat the most minimal amount of food so they can be done with it and go to the beach. Then he also had the dinner brain in and so he was the one who went off to find takeaway for us to have in our hotel room on the balcony table that we brought inside and trying to serve it so we didn’t have noodles going everywhere and making sure girls had relatively fair serves of noodles and protein and veg so there weren’t fights over who had more broccoli and S please please please use a wipe not the bed to clean up your sauce.

To top it all off, girls were so exhausted that all three of them declared at 6pm – S I X P M – that they were tired and wanted to go to bed. S was asleep on her tummy right at the edge of her bed by 7 or so. C and E … not even close. So not even close that I don’t even know when it was they each fell asleep because I was actually curled up crying in our bed, overwhelmed by washed out hopes and the frustration of girls who can’t sleep after a big day. Bonus was S needed me during the night and so I ended up sleeping in her bed with her which would have been lovely but for all the wet sand that she had brought in with her when we came in after the beach. 

But then it was dawn and I am giving Day 2 an A. Dawn. Whole family photo in matching family Bluey pyjamas. Breakfast on the balcony, marvelling at how high we are. Visit to the hotel pool. Time in the very chilly water and photos and girls running on the grass and delighting in togs and beauty and water. 

And then there was the beach. The beach for hours. Sparkling waves. E terrified of the water after thinking the moving sand the day before was quicksand but then, bucket refill after bucket refill, getting more and more confident, confident enough to jump in the waves at the very edge a little bit, filling the air with screamsqueals of laughter. A delighted S running to and fro on the sand, making serious work of building sandcastle after sandcastle. Girls screaming with joy. 

C jumping to be in the water with me, and then we were in the water together and something shifted for us. Waist-deep in the water, jumping with the breaking waves, turning side-on to brace ourselves against the bigger waves, being in sparkling refreshing saltwater, being free, heart swelling.

Just holding my little girl who is approaching my shoulder height and remembering how little she used to be and realising how little she still is and feeling her trust in me and just holding her and realising that this – this experiencing the ocean with a child old enough to stand up and take this guidance – this was something I had wanted in my life. Not as something on my mental list for this particular holiday, but something as inner and longstanding as when I was a kid, I assumed I would have kids of my own and bring them to the beach and there are things you have to teach them and things you would do with them. Building sandcastles. Don’t flick a sandy towel. Jump at the water’s edge. Stay between the flags. Be in the water safely. Be a safe person for your child so they can cling to you in a range of emotions. Learn to – well, not quite bodysurf as I never really managed that, but be waist-deep in breaking waves and have waves breaking around you. I had not realised I had this need until we were in the midst of it and I had to savour the happy without succumbing to the happy tears and alarming all the other swimmers. It fixed C up, too, and she would have spent the entire day in there if I had let her.

But sun and hangry were beginning to overcome so we removed ourselves from this wonderful place and had our fancy (enough) restaurant meal for lunch before ice creams and starting the long but thankfully not nearly as long as the day before trip home. S was very much not happy with us for making home our real home and not our holiday house home so I copped it with her whole body frustration but when she had felt her feelings it got less bad. And then… then we were home. Home in time for Glenn to whip up a quick and relatively nutritious dinner to feed girls who were exhausted but, you know, still couldn’t sleep at a normal time but anyway. Home. Fed. Asleep eventually, with brains full of new experiences and new senses and new accomplishments and sand and water and salt and shells and sun and crashing waves and swimming pools and views to the mountains and the ocean. Such a break.

This Time of Year

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

That time of year. This time of year. Is this time of year my favourite? It may well be.

This time of year, when the sun is rising that little bit later so that a morning walk comes with less being blinded by the sun and more “Ooh, look at that bootiful sunrise” if E or S is with me. That later rising of the sun reminding us that summer in Brisbane does pass for a time. 

This time of year, when the weather starts tipping to autumn with shorter days and dryer days and nights below 20C and a slight crispness at the beginnings and ends of the days. This tipping to autumn that reminds me of when C was born and all that went on with the much-awaited birth of a firstborn.

This time of year, when there is even a slight chill some mornings and the weather forecast shows highs in the upper 20s instead of relentlessly in the 30s. This slight and occasional chill that has children suddenly chilly. This chill that reminds me that they can’t live in short sleeves all year, and winter clothes should be organised soon, preferably the soon that comes before the cold weather.

This time of year, when a trip to the garage for the winter clothing happens. 

I love this changeover of the seasons. Going through the old clothes. Smiling with each memory that emerges with them. Noticing all the holes. Noticing all the holes that I used to think would be frustrating, that something needs mending or is unusable, but actually noticing the holes and seeing how well-loved it was, or how much time playing kittens this pair of leggings saw, or remembering the stack that needed bandaids on that knee for a week, or just how much it was worn and therefore value for money. 

Noticing the sizes available and realising what is missing due to growth spurts and school starting and physical clothing preferences. Thinking about what sizes will be required this year by which child. Reminiscing to C’s babyhood, when she was fairly easily in the size for the age but always outgrew them about a month early, and the sadness felt every time I realised there was no way she was fitting into that size again and therefore maybe I wouldn’t even see a baby in these clothes again because who knew if we would have any more babies? Then – ha! – we sure did have more babies, but some of those clothes could hardly be worn anyway as E and S grew faster than imaginable. 

Grew? Grow. E, at just 4, is needing size 5 separates but dresses are size 6, but clearly not for much longer. S, 2 and a half, is a comfy size 3 in separates but can work with size 4s and needing size 4 dresses and snuck a pair of C’s size 6 leggings the other day and wore them without issues the whole afternoon. C is also a bit ahead in sizing, being almost – practically – 7 and needing size 7s and 8s. With a weight percentile much, much lower than her height percentile she can get away with wearing smaller sizes in warmer months but really needs the length back for the cooler weather.

Noticing the deficits in our supply and planning a trip for winter clothes shopping with the girls. Planning how to make it fair while still getting the start, at least, of what they actually need and attempting to find out what suits their particular wants and needs. “Let’s go shopping for winter clothes!” starts in my mind as a fun thing to do with the girls on the weekend but turns into a balancing act harder than Christmas presents. 

We did this on Saturday. It was the worst shopping trip of my life, I think.

Everyone will want a dress. Every girl gets a winter dress. E quickly found an Elsa dress. It was available in sizes 2 – far too small for S – and 8. Foreseeing 2 winters of wear from E, I let her choose the size 8. There was no similar dress for S. S had a tantrum. C consented to a pink dress with frilly hems. S refused the green dress and as she was too far gone, really, in her Elsa dress tantrum, I picked a navy floral number for her.

Everyone will need at least one pair of leggings. C will need a pair that is vaguely navy so she can wear them at school. C goes for every other option and goes all sad sack on me when I say no. Every. Time. S is still tantrumming about the Elsa dress. I pick out a pair for her then realise she doesn’t know anything that is happening and figure she will actually be fine in size 4s and we have enough in size 3 and 4 to get us going. E is still on a high with her Elsa dress so I pick out 2 pairs of size 6 leggings for her. She is 4. She goes to preschool. Those knees aren’t going to last.

Everyone will need at least one long sleeved top. The long sleeved tops are on the same table as the short sleeved tops, distinguished by writing on the front sticker. Every top C picks is short sleeved. I point out where to find short or long, and she finds 2 options. One of these is a leopard print on a pale coffee colour. She looks ill when she holds it up but is determined to have it. I refuse. I suggest an alternative (we use a plain white tee from home and do an iron-on transfer) which is only just barely considered. I still refuse to buy her something that makes her look like she is about to vomit. She puts it back, slowly and sadly.  E is still on a high with her Elsa dress but has enough presence of mind to shout “NO” at me when I show her a few options that I thought she would love. Unsurprisingly, back at the first option again gets a resounding “YES”. A very sweet top is found for S which pulls her out of a tantrum for about 80 seconds.  

C will need pyjamas. I veto the flannel pair as I am hoping hoping hoping that her size 6 flannel pair will fit for at least the first really cold night. She accepts the lighter weight, heart print with ruffle sleeve pair as acceptable. E doesn’t wear pyjamas so I’m not buying any for her. Except, having made that decision on Saturday, guess who has worn pjs every night since. Of course. Thankfully, C’s size 5 Frozen pyjamas will work out until I can gauge if this wearing pyjamas thing is going to last. S has one and a half pairs of pyjamas that should fit so fingers crossed I find the other bit and then maybe have another rummage in the garage – that’s right, I am no longer organised in the garage department – for size 3 clothing. And my jeans. I am really really really hoping they will be too big but I’m not going to buy another pair if they do actually still fit. 

So that was our winter shopping trip. The hardest thing I have done in a long time, which is really saying something considering the NEAR CYCLONE we just had with 3 SICK GIRLS so that gives you an indication of how horrible it was and how poorly I cope with grumpy and tantrums and stubborn. All that aside, they all love their new clothes. I can’t wait for cooler cooler weather.

Alfred Is Coming

/ annamurray / Leave a comment

Soooo funny story. You know how C has quite a high level of anxiety? Yeah. That. And last week, or maybe the week before that, we were talking about cyclones. Some of you will know where this is headed, but indulge me. C was really worried about cyclones and the possibility of a cyclone and us being in a cyclone. 

“You know what?” I said. “Cyclones don’t actually come this far down the coast. I have never experienced a cyclone in Brisbane. We get the cyclonic effects of more wind and rain, but that’s as far as it goes. We’re safe from cyclones here”.

Ha. Ha. Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha. 

Sunday. Wow it’s windy today, isn’t it? It’s like autumn has been waiting for March to happen and then, BAM. Autumn has entered the building.

Sunday afternoon. Facebook notification the QPS is live. Huh. That usually only happens around extreme weather events. How far north is Great Keppel Island? NO IT’S E’S TURN NEXT YOU JUST HAD A TURN.

Sunday evening. Glenn trying to talk to me while dinner is on. Never a smooth conversation, but this was about the news about the weather. The storm chasing guy is having conniptions because the cyclone that’s off the coast (what?! Oh wait that makes sense now) is set to make landfall in a few days (ooh yay more cooler weather) and the eye is set to pass over Redcliffe. Wait, what?! Redcliffe? That’s, like, really really close. Like, we could be there in an hour or so and we know people and CYCLONES DON’T COME THIS FAR DOWN THE COAST but apparently now they do. Girls kept eating dinner. Oblivious.

Monday morning. On the way to daycare someone passed us, talking on the phone. Talking about taping up windows. A sudden realisation hit that C was going to be hearing a lot of talk about cyclones and emergencies and cyclones and disasters and flooding and cyclones and high winds and destruction and general excitement from others as well as, most likely and could even make a bet on it, gross exaggeration on the part of many of the boys and not a few of the girls, that would have C – who takes most things quite literally – actually thinking that whatever these kids were saying, would happen. Like that the school is going to be washed away. Or that snakes are going to be flung through bedroom windows. Or that we’d be walking in sewage. Ugh. I don’t know. But I know that there is a part of society that seems to be peculiar to boys of a certain age that will make the experience as gruesome as possible. I needed to talk to the girls.

Sure enough, the word “cyclone” made C wrap her arm around mine like a pretzel. “Remember, mummy and daddy will do everything we need to do to keep you girls safe”. I’m still really worried about the cyclone. “This is just a prediction. Often when they develop, they reduce and become just really big storms”. Oh good. That’s what’s going to happen here. “But it also might do as the professionals are predicting, and come in and be a cyclone. We have to be prepared”. I’m really really worried about the cyclone.

I think I managed to reduce her fears by enough that she could function, at least. School was fine. I suspect she is not the only kid in her class with anxiety. She came home happy and unphased. Phew. Of course, I had watched much of one of the live emergency services sessions and gone to the recommended websites and looked at what we need to get and talked with Glenn about it and found the resource on preparing children for it. Thank goodness it is just one highly anxious child. E and S seem most concerned about whether I will let them play at the park, regardless of their level of sickness or the level of wind.

Glenn went to the shops twice. The first time he was surprised by how few people there were around the shopping centre and how busy it was inside. The second time, he started sending me photos of the lines inside, and reporting on the lack of this and that. Pre-cyclone panic buying.

Tuesday. All the girls are sick. Glenn had an early start but thankfully an early finish as well. Blueberry and chocolate pancakes for Pancake Tuesday. I was not at all sad that all the girls had to be home, but girls not at school or daycare meant my plan of doing some shopping early in the day had to change. A shopping trip with well girls is hard enough, let alone a shopping trip with sick girls in a busy and slightly panicky shopping centre before a cyclone in an area not used to cyclones. Thankfully, Auntie J offered to pick things up for us and no way am I turning that one down. It was such a help. C was still worried that the cyclone will hit now. Not until Thursday, we kept telling her. Is the cyclone coming tonight? No. Tonight will be fine. 

Work. Yeah, remember that thing that pays the bills? I had already had to bail on the daily work. I was very glad to be having a delayed job to do, due Thursday. Hm. I also started to worry that I would not be able to complete it on time. Deeeeeeep breaths. Okay. Power is likely to go out Wednesday afternoon. Unlikely before then. Okay. So Monday evening I had started it, a civil case involving a car hire claim following a traffic accident yawn sorry what ooh that was interesting. I still had a good chunk of it to go on Tuesday. Like, possibly three hours of my time. With sick girls. And a deadline thanks to nature a day and a half earlier than official. Deep breaths. Then amazingly, after morning tea on Tuesday, girls were watching movies and NOT fighting and building cubbies and NOT screaming and actually working out those little things like your leg is touching me or your ear is in front of the screen I can’t see. Wow. I snuck to the bedroom where I work and thought I would just get a little bit done but I finished all the typing. All. The. Typing. Emailed work to say this is the situation. Checked and submitted the job after girls were in bed Tuesday night. Satisfaction. Relief.

Random weather. Clear skies. WINDY. Clear skies. Dark clouds. Sunny and windy. RAIN. Sunny cloudy sunny cloudy sunny cloudy sunny windy.

Emergency plan sorted out. Sure, we need to do things like put all the loose bits of everything on the balcony into some storage solution, and washing needs to be done now before the power goes out and before the weather requires it be not outside and candles let’s make candles and what activities do you girls want to have available when we have no power, but mostly, which movies shall we make sure to download so that if we have no internet you can still have something to watch.

Trying to follow the advice for dealing with children. Trying to stay calm. Trying to be honest about what’s coming but reassuring them that we will get through this. Once Glenn was home in the afternoon, there was a real feeling of we have the whole family together. We are hunkering down together. We’ve got this.