Purely Update (and maybe a little bit of whining)

This post is nothing more than an update on what the Dal, Hel and Bel's are doing with themselves. I guess most of my posts are so I am not sure why I am so apologetic about this one....

We have been in Hobart living with my parents for just under a month now. While we are so appreciative of their hospitality and love being able to spend time with them, we are both (Dal and Hel) now ready to move into a place of our own.

It has been two whole months since we left Sydney and it has been over seven months since we have actually lived with OUR stuff. Our stuff doesn't amount to much when you look at it all packed in a 20 foot container. In fact it doesn't even fill a 20 foot container, but it is still our stuff and I long for my own cookware. I desperately want to curl up on our ugly brown couch and watch our dirty little television while LQ plays with her two enormous boxes of toys.

I want to go to the bathroom and leave the door open. I want LQ to sleep in a different bedroom to Dal and I. I want to be a home maker again instead of a holiday maker.

Cross your fingers and pray that this third place that we have applied for will be the one.

But after all's said and done, you know I will want to spend most of my time back here at mum's place... I'll just have my own place to retreat to once I have had enough.

One named Peter, One named Paul

Two little Dicky birds sitting on the car
Amused by their own reflections - I guess these birds don't see much of their reflections on account of the sun being behind a cloud most of the day

It was so cute how they sat there twittering and playing with the window. So cute in fact that I had to take a closer look.

Oh RAH-EEEALLL CUTE!!

Since when did we start preparing food on the chairs?

You have heard many times that Love is the universal language. Regardless of your language barriers, if you are in love you will get by.

True enough sentiment if you like being misunderstood by every other person in your lover's life.

When Dal and I first met all was well with the world. We got along famously and we both spoke english. What a coup! Love is blind and maybe deaf as well, because I can't remember having any issues with difference in speech or language in those beginnings. I dare say Dal noticed many differences but just bit his tongue and endured the little nuances in my language.

It wasn't until I moved down to Orem, Utah to date Dal properly that I even suspected that Australian's and American's spoke a little differently.

I had the opportunity to help a friend out by answering a few phones and during this time I realised that a lot of people couldn't understand me. And for heavens sake .... how DO you pronounce Orem? Is it Oh-rem, Oar-rem, O-rem? I lost the count on the times my friend had to correct my pronunciation of that wonderful little city. I am STILL completely confused about it's pronunciation - all because I have been corrected so many times.

It was so difficult for me to pronounce Orem the correct way because I had to speak like an American to get it right. Those hard 'R's ' get me every time. So in an effort to help those poor unsuspecting souls on the phone and protect my sanity, I began to slightly change inflections and important 'R's' in my speech. Oh, it's alright - I didn't change my accent, because that is one way people remembered me. But my accent became more... mixed. It was not only my accent that change ever so slightly. Certain words came into my vocabulary that I would not have otherwise used.

I call it my "Amestralia Language". I continue to perfect this bastardisation of the two languages every time I visit the Land of the Free.

Admittedly, I still get a few things wrong.

"Ju-Ju! Would you mind passing the hairdryer out to me. I think it is there in the bathroom with you on the bench!" I am yelling through the bathroom door to my youngest sister-in-law.

There is silence.

"It's a COUNTER sweetheart! She's not going to know what you mean," shouts Dal from down the hall.

"Oh... Sorry! I mean the COUNTER." Immediately I am rewarded with a hairdryer.


"Um... I guess we could use the bench to cut these vegetables." A perfectly reasonable suggestion to me until those around me start looking confusedly outside at the bench.

Yes... I call both a chair and a counter top the same thing. Only occasionally - and now only in Australia.

Love Note to a Virgin

Oh Virgin Airlines how I love thee, let me count the ways

1. the ease with which you check me in sets my heart aflutter. be it on international or domestic flights.
2. I love your international flight and personal entertainment systems. The constant Playhouse Disney for LQ, the ever ready solitaire for mindless time passing, and your interactive games that I can beat Dal with.
3. Your baggage check through at the international airport made me dizzy with pleasure. The added bonus of free shuttle to the domestic airport had me thinking you are too good to be true.
4. Even though your domestic airline didn't have a flight to Hobart for some time after we arrived in sydney, your lounge service went above and beyond my wildest expectations.
5. How could I have known you would refresh me with your lovely showers, entertain LQ with your enormous theatre room while we stretched out on your long luxurious theatre seats.
6. If my house is not available, you, Virgin Lounge are my number one choice.
7. I love you friendly and helpful staff - constant with their friendliness and helpfulness. I depend on your friendliness.
8. I love your domestic flights with their better snack choices than other airlines and once again you provide me with personal entertainment.

My dearest Virgin Airlines please never leave me in my hour of flying. You are my favourite and always will be... until I am able to fly business class.

P.S. Richard Branson, even though you are a complete toolbag, I may be in love with you for creating the Virgin brand. I said MAYBE!!

Back to Oz

We are about to leave for our LOOOOOONG journey back to Australia. We have a six hour stopover in Sydney while we wait for the other flight to Hobart.

Each time we come to visit Dal's family, leaving gets harder. I get closer and more attached to everyone. This makes for a really hard time leaving. I know that if Dal's mom starts to cry, I definitely will - so this is my plan. I am not going to make eye contact with anyone for the next 20 minutes. Once we are out the door I should be fine.

Of course at the same time I am excited to be seeing my family again. Such swinging emotions should NOT be experienced at the same time.

The Evils of Midol

I had the fantastic opportunity to play with "That Girl" from Pensievity yesterday.

I took LQ along just because we were going to the pool in That Girl's complex and I thought LQ might like it.

That Girl has just moved her family of three boys and a husband back to the US after living in Brazil for about five years. I sympathised with her when she recently wrote a post about cranky children and moving. I guess I just wanted an excuse to meet her, so we arranged a time to meet up and put our plan into action.

Before I left the house for my play date, I popped a few Midol pills. This was so my play wouldn't be hindered by any discomfort that I may have felt from my dearest monthly visit (BLAST that period pain!!).

In my Midol haze I may have:

• Forgotten any sun protection for LQ - HELLOOOO we were going to the pool!
• Made the decision NOT to bring my own bathers because, I reasoned, it wasn't really a pool but just a sort of sprinkler park - HELLOOOO we were going to the P.O.O.L!
• Scared the be-whatsit out of That Girl by not knocking loud enough on her door and then having her just walk straight into me (the skulker)
• Decided against putting a swimming nappy (diaper) on LQ because I planned on just leaving her diaper-less.
• made That Girl loan me her nicest swimsuit. On a side note: I FIT INTO THAT GIRL'S SWIMSUIT!!!! (I am so excited about that. Do you know how fantastic she looks?!)
• Forgotten to take LQ's diaper off
• slathered suncream on LQ but forgot to put any on myself
• panicked halfway through our swim and made LQ stand in the shade until That Girl offered her son's t-shirt for LQ to wear in the pool
• just generally behaved erratically and unlike myself
  

By the time our swim time was over LQ's diaper had absorbed so much water it had started to fall apart. Lucky for me (and everyone else), none of it had come out into the pool water and as LQ stood near the outdoor shower I pulled off her swimsuit hoping to peel off the diaper at the same time and contain any diaper gel that may have escaped. No such luck - a whole pocket of gel had made its way halfway up LQ's back already and fell with an unceremonious PLOP right by the shower.

I quickly prayed for a fast and painless death so that I wouldn't be burdened with the shame of scooping up the insides (that were no longer inside) of LQ's diaper and walking the long walk to the garbage bin.

No such luck. It was like I was having an out of body experience. I couldn't look anyone in the eye. I may have mumbled "Speaking of social faux pas..." and then forced a laugh that could have sounded more like a donkey's bray - I can't remember, my brain is already erasing this painful memory in an effort to make me feel better about myself.


I had hoped to help That Girl feel better about her "new girl" status by organising a play date. I am now 100% sure that the only way I made her feel better was when she realised that she is nowhere near being as retarded as I am.

That Girl is such a wonderful girl that she probably decided to overlook my Midol hazed stare, my constant stream of idiotic decisions and then my total lack of propriety by eating her food and then running off into the sunset. But I will completely understand if when I contact her when I am here again next year she hesitates before replying.

Take Me Out

The Arizona Diamondbacks are playing last years World Series Champions the Philadelphia Phillies this week.

Dal and I were lucky enough to go to a game last night with Dal's Dad and brother in law. Here's the story through pictures.


Taking the Light Rail into Phoenix. Pretending I am not tired and irritated by the stupid Phillies fans that kept clapping louding

At the ball park
Staring down the obnoxious Phillies fan
3rd inning, We bought ourselves a footlong "Ricky" Dog. Ricky was our toothless hotdog server who named the dog.
It turns out we could only eat half a footlong. It's a good thing we didn't get those Chili Cheese Fries.
Getting excited - about... the Diamondbacks fans who were leaving in droves when we were still down 4-1 in the 8th inning.
Dal rallied with his cap AND faceI asked my millionth question about what was happening

We finally went to the official swag store and bought me a shirt to represent in
We saw the second best comb over I have ever seen

I had to document my awesome sunglasses that we just bought. That's Dal's dad and Pete behind me. Notice Pete representing Dodgers? The Dodgers were down 10-0 when we last looked last night.
Diamondbacks score a two run homer in the 9th inning
The Diamondbacks still lost - 4-3. Sorry Dal

Postscript: As I write this post, the D-backs are winning tonight's game 3-0 (7th inning). Dal is happy.

We are Mountain Folk

Dal, Hel and Bel have been in the mountains for the last week and a bit.

It has been fantastic and I really enjoyed the lack of television, computers, internet, etc. It just made things seem a lot less noisy.

Here are a few of my favourite photos from the past week. Hopefully I can bring this blog up from travelogue to something a bit more interesting in the next week or so, but DON'T hold your breath.

I was dead-uh, but now I am alive-uh

It seems that a trip to the US would not be a trip to the US unless I get to spend most of our vacation money on health care.

We are still not sure how much the bill is for our little jaunt to the emergency room yesterday, but I just HAD to up the ante on last years journey.

After suffering from heat exhaustion on Tuesday evening it progressed to dehydration. Three days of body aches and just a general feeling of wanting to die and I decided we had better do something.

On top of suffering from dehydration I also have a flu like virus. It's just the way I roll. I don't do things in halves.

The good news - The two litres of fluid plus a bit of motrin that was pumped straight into my veins on Friday evening ended the three days of continual head implosion. And now I am feeling 100 times better.

Hopefully this next week will bring more photos, a LOT more fun and a lot LESS emergency rooms.

We Have Arrived

And already I have suffered from heat stroke (for real).

I know this may seem a little weird to everyone but me, but Mesa, AZ for me does NOT equal heat. This heat is out of the ordinary.

Since meeting Dal I have only had to endure a few days of the Arizona Summer heat back when we were dating. Every other time we have visited the family here it has been Christmas. Meaning Winter. Meaning GORGEOUS weather.

Mesa AZ in my mind is a perfect Christmas-sy fantasy land. And I would like it to stay that way. Unfortunately my fantasy bubble is slowing being popped every extra day I experience this unearthly heat. I have praised the air conditioning gods nightly.

Aside from the temperature we have had such a wonderful time so far and we are only entering day three of our month long holiday. Thus far we have:

Played with these at midnight (jet lag is an evil, evil thing).

Climbed the stairs (at midnight)
Played on the swing

Played with Grandma

And the chickens


And generally being happy little campers
I don't want to brag or anything, but I have now realised my child is the most wonderful child on this earth. I came to this conclusion on our flight over here. Beautiful. (I am so going to get kicked in the guts on the way home for saying that)

My brain fell out of my uterus (twice)

It's a long story.

The first time my brain fell out was when LQ was born.

The second time was more recently. It all started with some anti-depressants.

I visited the doctor a few months back in the hopes she could save me from myself. My hormones seemed to be attacking me on a regular basis, sometimes leaving me completely incapable of doing anything for two weeks of my life. Dal would often come home to find me curled up on the floor incapacitated from the utter despair I felt over whatever was worrying me that day. This frustrated me, because for the other two weeks of my life, I felt the complete opposite. I could have taken on the world and won.

So I was at the doctor hoping she could help. Like any good doctor, she prescribed anti-depressants immediately. I have had not so good experiences with anti-depressants before and was reluctant to go through it all again. However, I felt it best to at least try the things so I could rule out one thing.

To my complete surprise those little half pills were amazing. For three days I felt like super woman. And then... I got a little feeling that maybe I had a little sprite growing inside me. I ceased taking the happy pill and had the pregnancy confirmed.

I didn't think it possible to lose something that was barely there at all, but it seems my mushy brain became even mushier.

Fast forward 5 weeks to Friday evening. To spare you all the bloody, gory details I will just tell you that I miscarried. An ambulance, emergency room and two hours sleep was involved in the evening. It WAS a completely body shocking experience and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. It seems to be a secret part of motherhood that not too many people talk about. I would venture a guess that most mothers (or mothers to be) have had at least one miscarriage, but it's not until it has happened to you that these people share their stories. And understandably so... it's probably something you wouldn't want to relive over and over like a birth story.

But I am off on a tangent - this post isn't about my miscarriage, it's about my brains falling out all over again.

To say I have been vague the past few months may be an understatement, but following the events over the weekend I can now categorically say that my brains have completely fallen out again.

It has been a struggle to finish sentences.

I hope this excuses me from the lack of posts and comments and hopefully saves me from a possible beating from an un-named source *cough - DeNae - cough* :) You should see my other blog - completely neglected.

Clap your hands and say, 'I believe in fairies!'

My early morning fairy

Young Mary Joe isn't so bad

"Oh, Anne, do come quick," implored Diana nervously. "Minnie May is awful sick - she's got croup. Young Mary Joe says - and Father and Mother are away to town and there's nobody to go for the doctor. Minnie May is awful bad and Young Mary Joe doesn't know what to do - and oh, Anne, I'm so scared!" (this part of "Anne of Green Gables" is found here)

Up until last year, Anne of Green Gables had been my only experience with croup. And what a romantic experience. Matter of fact Anne, after being shunned by Mrs Barry for the currant wine debacle, is able to win back the favour of Mrs Barry by single handedly saving Minnie May by tending to her through the night.

If you had asked me three years ago if croup was even around now, I would have told you with with 100% certainty that it was a virus long gone from first world countries.

Imagine my alarm when LQ woke late one night last year struggling to breathe and freaking us both out with her barking cough. It mustn't have been as bad as Minnie May because once LQ calmed down her wheezing was much abated and she seemed to still have plenty of colour in her face. It only lasted one night, so Dal and I didn't worry too much about it.

Until last night. Old Wheezy came back with a vengeance and this time I was debating whether we should rush to the emergency room or not. Again, once Old Wheezy had calmed down her condition seemed much better, so I diligently searched the internet for a reason for this occurance. "Croup" is what the internet spewed back at me.

And instead of being worried, I immediately felt a special bond with Anne of Green Gables. Except I guess if I were in the story (and I was honest) I would be more like the stupid Young Mary Joe character. So paralysed with panic I don't even think to make the room warmer. I guess next time LQ wakes up with an inflamed larynx, I'll have Dal trudge through the snow to summon my estranged bosom friend.


Some facts about Croup:

• It is characterised by a cough that sounds like a barking seal and inflamed airways that usually occur during the night.
• The inflamed airways are different to an asthmatics wheezing by the laboured breathing sound that occurs when the child breathes out.
• It is mostly children aged three and under that suffer from croup
• The cold night air actually HELPS the inflamed airways
• Alternatively you can place a humidifier in the sufferer's room and that can also help
• Calling your child "Old Wheezy" at three in the morning makes everything funny

Unnecessary Blubbering

I cried at dance class today.

It wasn't because the teacher was being mean, either.

As I sat watching my darling 2 year old twirling her ribbon on a stick the way SHE wanted, my inner voice clearly said to me "Look. Look at how much fun she is having."

I looked. At that same moment LQ turned to face me. The delightful grin almost took over her face as she showed me her twirling skills, looking for my happy approval.

My inner voice continued "Now here's the lesson to be learned. Does it really matter that she doesn't follow the dance teacher's instructions? Does it really matter that LQ doesn't seem to be keeping up with the other two year olds physically? Do all these vague milestones really matter?"

"Could it just be that LQ being HAPPY is the MOST important thing in her life at the moment? The pressure to succeed will inevitably come to that darling girl. Don't YOU give it to her!"

And that's when I started crying at dance class. Tears of relief that I didn't have to worry anymore.

It was kind of embarrassing.

Taking "Little Queen" too far

This is how LQ is insisting on getting around the house at the moment.Remember we used it on our trip to the US last year? We will be doing it again, but this time I am going to use velcro straps to attach it and not a bungee cord. The velcro will be less fiddly (I hope).

Princess LQ has spoken. Speaking of talking, LQ has learned the phrase "I don't know". Comes in handy when your mother is harassing talking to you.