- Catherine Irwin
- Perth, WA, Australia
- Hi friends. To those I have met in person and the many I haven't - welcome to our nest. Thanks so much for stopping by. I am a mama of six baby birds and wife to one papa bird. Our nest is an intricately woven home, crafted over time, through the highs and lows of life, and many in-betweens. We are soon to leave our Australian nest to re-locate to our second home, the UK. This is our story, of our new life in a new country, the trials and tribulations, bidding goodbye to precious friends and embracing new. I know at times, our wings will be flapping so hard to keep us moving forward that we will tire, however, a little perseverence will bring effortless gliding amongst a soft breeze, and even stronger wings for the journey ahead. Welcome to our flight......
Thursday, 30 September 2010
It is the school holidays and we have taken our brood away for a few days to a huddle of eco-designed beach shacks with the fancy name of a resort because it has a pool and a cafe.
Every time these term breaks come around (which are quite frequently it seems) all my mind tends to interpret is the word ‘holidays’ but really it means the absence of school (ie kids at home) and no holidays for the parents (because the kids are home). And most times I desire to go away, thinking that a hiatus from home will also mean a rest for me. And the sad thing is that I fall for that line of thought every single time.
Reality, is a truckload of hard work, even harder than it usually is. This means packing for eight people, including twin babies who need nappies, porta cots, the twin pram, toys, mushy food, formula, copious changes of clothes (because of poor spit control, poo and spew), food, bikes, scooters, roller blades, swimming toys, vests and an entire medicine cabinet for the ‘just in case’ scenarios and so on and so forth ......
On route we stop for the toilet, familiarise ourselves with the nearest hospital and pray they have an A&E (because nine out of ten times we end up there on our holiday), yell at the kids to calm down, grit our teeth, stop for the toilet, fight traffic, yell at the kids and yell at each other, whilst I silently berate myself that I have fallen for the notion of ‘holiday’ yet again!
Upon arriving at the coveted destination, by which time kids are ratty, hungry and impatient, the equally ratty and foul-tempered parents have to unload the car and organise all of the stuff into a shoe box sized space with a kitchenette not much bigger than my toilet at home. Nobody has any space to retreat and just ‘be’ (me in particular!) The babies can’t sleep with all the racket inside and out owing to the amount of kids squished onto a small amount of land called a resort.
We are day two into our temporary sea change and so far the kids have received severe sun burn from the first burst of hot weather this season, their brand new pool toys have been stolen by the resort’s pool bully (he even frightened me!), twin two had her first taste of dog poo whilst relaxing in the shade of the gum trees and there are flies as big as horses buzzing around inside our shack and noisily dive-bombing us like jet-fighters.
All-in-all, a good time had by all.