Not Your Average Snowflake
by“You want to know…,” said Tracey slowly, deliberately, quietly into the phone, “…if I have a man with me?” Her expression was suddenly combatant and could be read as, oh, you did not just say that.
The blog posts which probably mean more to us than you. Our day to day stuff which, one day, our kids will look back on and laugh at. Or use in court. Or talk about with their psychiatrists.
“You want to know…,” said Tracey slowly, deliberately, quietly into the phone, “…if I have a man with me?” Her expression was suddenly combatant and could be read as, oh, you did not just say that.
This place is a little slice of heaven.
I wouldn’t dream of hurting my kids…or so I thought.
I love the smell of freshly washed clothes.
Riding roughshod over my very own forestry and cave system was not the direction I thought things would take when we took off on our big lap some sixteen months ago.
One of my children has decided to reject my favourite and, by some accounts my best. recipe – the supermarket hot chook. And for the oddest reason…
We have a little problem. Or should I say an little problem.
A year ago if someone doing a big lap told me, even someone doing it with five kids, they needed a holiday I’d have scoffed mightily in their direction. And yet…
This post is NOT sponsored.
Tracey is in two minds about me sharing this little window into our life. She worries it might show us in a poor light.
If I came home with a head like Tracey’s just given me I’d be unhappily married until my scalp was hidden again.
We’d been parked in the driveway of friends for a few days and since with their mob of nine there were fourteen kids running about – or more specifically hanging about in our bus playing – finding a couple of hours of peace to focus on writing has been difficult.
Wow. So much wow. Wow for the boat ride. Wow for the dad joke banter of the captain and his crewmate. Wow for the seal colony. Wow for that seal colony smell. And wow for seeing my kids finally silenced.
One of the wonderful things about this big lap lifestyle is watching our kids progress from being afraid of dirt on their hands to wading into a creek. On the other hand…
“The worst thing in the world has happened,” came Miss8’s emotionally charged whine from the back seat of the car. I had my doubts.