Gone bush

Being school holidays and all, I decided to take the kids to my dad's house for a little getaway. He lives in a small community in the middle of a national park.

Set on the river, this place never fails to blind me with her beauty and at my dad's house you can get a magnificent view from anywhere.

It's been too cold for swimming, so we walked and sat on the wharf and chatted. We took a long walk to the kiosk for lemonades. It's been lovely.

Kidspot Ford Territory Top 50: Feel the Difference

As I mentioned a few weeks ago, I'm part of the Kidspot Ford Territory Top 50 Bloggers. As part of the competition I have to write the following post....

I never wanted to be a writer. An actress, a film director, a forensic scientist and even, as a four-year-old, a check-out chick - yes. Writer, no.

I'm not a talker. The link between my brain and my mouth is broken. I find it hard to get what's in my brain to my tongue, but my thoughts flow from my fingers with ease. Still, I'm not a writer. I didn't want to create epic tales or write history-changing articles.

At school, I was never particularly studious, but I could knock over an essay pretty quickly and easily. At uni I wrote a 3000 word history essay two hours before it was due.I hadn't been to a lecture all year (they were always late in the afternoon) and somehow managed to pass.

I wrote letters to friends all the time, even if I'd just spoken to them on the phone. Even if I was going to see them the next day. I don't remember what I wrote, just ramblings mainly. Even now I'll write out an email or note if I want to get my point across. Friends overseas, who always received my letters, said I should do journalism, so, with nothing else to do, I did.

Even when I was a paid employee of a magazine, which I was for 10 years, I never thought of myself as a writer even when I was writing. I never wanted to pen the cover stories or be the feature writer.

I never had romantic dreams of being an author or seeing my byline in a top publication. All I had were these words running through my head. Tumbling around and down and over. An internal dialogue that never shut up.

When I travelled I sent emails home and a friend told me I should write a book. "Of my mundane travels? I don't think so."

One day, I saw someone on Facebook with a blog. I checked it out and thought hmmmm. Then another day shortly after, I got the courage and started a blog.

The words in my head tumbled out. All those words in my head had finally found a home. It turns out that I may not be a writer but I'm certainly a blogger.

What sets me apart from other bloggers? Well, probably nothing, except here on this blog are MY words.
Words that I didn't know were precious to me until I saw the cursor move furiously across the screen. Words that have enriched my life beyond belief. Words that have given me strength, joy and a new depth. Words that I'll keep writing even when no-one is reading. Words that are simply mine.

If you enjoy these words, I'd be honoured and grateful if you hit the Kidspot button below and voted for me.

Friday Fun (on a Monday)

Apologies for being late, but well Easter and all its jollies got in the way of writing, so here is the holiday edition of Friday Fun.

I LOVED all the celebrity encounters you told me about last week and it was so hard to pick winners, they were all ace. But here are the five winners:

Sharnanigans
Mama of 2 Boys
Judy
Nat - Muddy Farmwife
Sarah

Please send me your details and I'll get your prize out to you.

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In my world, we're in the process of organising some fairly major work on our home. It's exciting, scary, daunting and everything else in between. I feel like I'm somewhere between Grand Designs and Bob the Builder. In fact, I often have the Bob the Builder theme song floating round my head as I look at plans for my new sanctuary, so it seems apt to give away 5 copies of the latest DVD - Bob the Builder The Dream Room.

To win, comment below and tell me what would be a must if you were creating your own dream room. (You might give me some top ideas.) 
Entries close 11.59pm, Thursday 12 April 2012. Open to Aussie residents only.

What do you call an Easter Grinch?

Easter has always been one of my favourite times of the year. Who can fault an extra long weekend and a day filled with chocolate? But it seems it's no longer a day, more a week filled with chocolate.

This year Easter has felt like it's on steroids, namely because we have a 5-year-old and a 3-year-old in the house. There's Easter Hat Parades, Easter crafts, Easter songs. They have been lapping it and it's a joy to watch and be part of.

The one thing that has taken me aback, though, is the school Easter gifts. On the girls last day of term, both of the girls received a ton of eggs from their classmates. Wrapped-up packages of eggs, some with hand-crafted cards, some with bunny ears. My first thought was: "OMG, we do this? I didn't do this at school. Who are these mums that have time to package up eggs and hand craft cards and buy bunny ears? I can barely get the kids breakfast and brush my hair and I'm not even sure I've got all the vomit off my face this morning [I had gastro this week]." A long first thought, I know.

It's a lovely gesture but really who has time? And it's expensive.

My second thought was: "OMG, my kids are going to eat ALL of this chocolate."

And it's this thought that's lingered and played on my mind. The amount of chocolate the girls received before it was even Good Friday was obscene. I remember when I was at school we might have gotten one egg from the school after the hat parade, I don't remember receiving gifts from other kids. Then the only other chocolate I got was from the Easter Bunny.

I don't want to be an Easter Grinch, but it's kind of killed the joy for me. I want my girls to be wide-eyed in wonder at the sweet treats the Bunny brings on Easter Sunday, but now it's like: "Yeah throw it on the pile."

I'd also like the girls to enjoy some choccy but not to have SO much that it makes them ill. I also don't want to be the bad guy and take away a gift that's been given to them.

The girls are lucky enough to have grandparents, god parents and neighbours who want to spoil them too and I'm so happy for them to be indulged this way.

It's coming home from school laden with eggs, their faces and hands sticky with chocolate that bothers me. Can't Easter cheer be spread with a card or a drawing? I thought it was just me that felt this way, but I read a friend's Facebook status yesterday that echoed my thoughts.

What do you think? Is egg giving at school too much? Should it just be kept to the Bunny and nearest & dearest? Or am I being too uptight, should I just let them have a chocolate gorge and be done with?

Apologies

Gastro and a looming Easter hat parade has meant no post today.

Instead check out our hat for the parade tomorrow:

He's got my thighs

Yesterday, as I waited for Lil-lil to come out of school, the principal yelled across the playground at me: "Look at the size of those thighs! So chunky!"

I blushed, then realised he was talking about D. He could have been talking about me though, it wouldn't have been out of the question. It seems I have replaced sleep with food. Can't sleep, must eat. I'm trying to get energy and enjoyment from somewhere at the moment, which is bad. I long to be fit and slim, I know I can be, I've done it before, but it's going to take time, motivation and me putting down the hot cross buns (and the chocolate and the cake) and moving my chunky thighs now and again.

Every time I think of it, it wears me out and I pick up something to eat. I just.can't. stop.eating. at the moment.

I also want to improve my health. After having pre-eclampsia, high blood pressure is a risk, I don't want to take tablets for the rest of my life. Type 2 diabetes is also in my family. I want to be healthy and here for my kids. I want to run and play with them. I want energy. I want to be alive.

Starting a healthy eating plan the Tuesday before Easter is just ludicrous. So I'll start next Tuesday, but I'll need to plan. I think I need support too.

I also need a plan to get moving. A challenge that's going to keep me interested.

What are your gold star tips for eating and moving? I'd love to hear.

The way it should be

Seven years ago today, I walked down the aisle in a gorgeous old hotel. I married the love of my life. It was the start of a journey I had imagined many times, but well reality is always a little different, isn't it? 

We have had amazing times, we've had ordinary times. We've had good times and not-so-good times. We've had times I'll cherish until the moment I stop breathing and times I'd rather forget. Just as anyone who's been married for more than two minutes has. 

This weekend past, we had a truly great weekend. Nothing special happened, maybe that's why it was so good. Just a family of five enjoying each other's company. Laughing, eating and soaking in sunshine. The way it should be. 

Thanks Skip, for everything you do each and every day. Thank you for this weekend. I love you, 100%.