Growing Up

When our dog, Taylor, was just a puppy, I gave her big cuddles. Knowing she would grow too big to be a couch dog and not wanting to create any bad habits, I used to sit on the floor with her. I would cross my legs and she'd lie on me. We spent evening after evening cuddling.

One night, she walked over to me and sat in my lap. Immediately, she turned to me, a confused look in her eyes. She stood and repositioned herself, then lay down again. She tried again. Then again and again. Eventually, she gave me a strange, grown-up stare, as if to say, 'What have you done?' and headed back to her bed.

Overnight, it seemed, she had grown too big for my lap, and it was the last time we cuddled like that.

Sometimes, that's how I feel myself: like a child who should still be holding her Dad's hand, yet too big and grown-up to be able to.

My puppy is now nine years old. And I am turning thirty tomorrow. I am officially a 'grown-up', but sometimes I just don't feel that way.

In fact, I think that feeling grown-up is a fleeting feeling, at best.

One minute, you're having fun and just living your life, with no age attached. The next, someone younger will ask for advice, hoping to glean wisdom from your years, while you spend the whole time wondering at what point you blinked and were headed to thirty. Because the last time you checked, what feels like a year ago, you were turning twenty.

You could be working, dealing with important situations and feeling in control when, all of a sudden, you have this jolting memory from your childhood. Is all this real, or is this just like when you used to play grown-ups all those years ago?

One minute, you can be acting like a sensible, responsible parent doing things for your child. The next you're in the car with your own mother as a passenger, and you can't help but feel like a seventeen-year-old learner driver again.

I remember being in hospital after having Abbey, with a surreal feeling as though I was an aunty again, just a young aunty looking forward to playing with her new niece. The next moment, the baby was crying and the visitor holding her handed her back and I realised, she's mine. I have to look after her.

A part of me hopes to never really feel completely grown-up. It's important to remember your childhood and have some moments free from responsibility.


Megan

I Can't Write...

It's confession time...

In my 'day-job' I write training manuals, procedures, interpretations of legislation and pages and pages of policies.

As an aspiring author, I have written a 12,000 word non-fiction manuscript and 15,000 words of an in-progress fiction manuscript.

In my university studies, I wrote thousands of words at a time, often on difficult topics.

I write book reviews every week, about some great works (and sometimes some not-so-great ones).

I have written articles that have been accepted for publication.

I write several blog posts each week.

I write every day, whether it's an addition to a manuscript, a short story, an article, or even just a few notes, emails and a blog post.

But there is one thing I CANNOT write - birthday cards.

I don't give birthday cards. I tell people it's because I forget to buy them or because I can't be bothered with it all, but the truth? I simply cannot write a good birthday card and it embarrasses me. I don't know what to write in them.

I can never come up with anything more interesting than 'Happy birthday! Enjoy your day!' - then I feel at a loss and sign it off.

That is my birthday week confession and my big writing failure.

How about you? Are you good at giving cards? Is there something you just can't write?


Megan

Impatience

I am impatient.

Because of this, I rarely procrastinate. I do the opposite - I have to do things RightThisSecond or else the world might fall apart. I can't sleep if I have more than a couple of things on my to-do list, so they must be done straightaway.

Because my husband knows the pain I suffer at waiting for things, he is currently torturing me about my upcoming birthday (only THREE MORE SLEEPS!). He'll throw in little teasers in day-to-day conversation, like: 'When I give you your present...' or 'You know, I was thinking the other day that I should wrap your present and put it right here on the table so you have to look at it until Thursday...'

He knows this makes me say things like, 'Oh, so it's a good one then?' or 'Just give me one little clue' (he did - it's not a new car. For the record, I don't want a new car; he was just giving an annoyingly unhelpful clue.) or 'What is it? - just tell me and I'll make myself forget so it's still a surprise on the day!'

But he won't budge.

He really is mean to me.

I think one reason he enjoys doing this is because he is such a patient person. If I say to Steve, 'I have a surprise for you - want to know what it is?!' he'll say, 'No, that's okay, I'll wait.'

I could tell him where his birthday present is and he wouldn't even sneak in to check it out. Leading up to our wedding, I had my dress hung up in the spare room and asked him not to look. He didn't.

Me? I'm a sticky-beak as well as impatient. If I knew where my present was, or if Steve had something that he asked me not to look at, I'd sneak a peak as soon as he next left the house.

Yep, I'm an impatient stick-beak who just wants to know - what am I getting for my birthday?!!

Megan

Water Baby

Neither Steve nor I are strong swimmers. Steve had a lot of ear problems as a kid, so he missed most of his swimming lessons, but I have no excuse - I'm just bad. I love to swim, but I'm terrible at it. Confession: I can't even go underwater without blocking my nose.

This then, has become something we want for Abbey: to give her the opportunity to be a strong swimmer, to be comfortable in the water.

We started her in swimming lessons when she was five months old. So many people told us we were crazy; after all, it's only about water familiarisation at that age, right? Well, sort of. But even that was a benefit, and something we wouldn't and couldn't have done with her by ourselves.

And there's nothing they can teach babies, right? Wrong. By six months, she was being plunged happily underwater. Then she learnt to kick (her 'running legs' as they say) and that set her off. By fifteen months she could swim with no assistance from us, with just her floaties on. Amazing.

Because of our discomfort in the water, one of the greatest joys Steve and I felt on holidays recently was in watching Abbey in the pool. Swimming every day, for hours on end, she improved even more. We'd put her floaties on, and she'd be off.

She headed all around the pool, exploring, with no care about whether we were around. We were with friends who have two boys, aged eight and five, and Abbey loved being splashed and bombed next to by them. By the end of the holiday, she was climbing into the pool by herself (I was thrilled that she chose to copy the boys when they climbed in carefully, and not when they bombed!) and swimming with the boys, without Steve or I in the pool (of course, we were very close by at the edge, at the ready).

She learnt to climb out by herself. Not just a clever thing to do, this is also a key lesson from her swimming classes - when you're in trouble, get to the edge and climb out.

And, if we weren't proud enough of her, at her swimming lesson this week she showed the teacher that she can swim without her arm floaties (to give you an idea of what this means, all the kids going up to the two-year-old class are still wearing them).

And she's only twenty-one months old.

We just hope this love of the water lasts. For her safety and fun.

Megan

Coming Home

When you've spent some time in an unfamiliar place...

If you have had a long journey home...

If the people you've been surrounded by don't speak English...

When the food, the transport, the language are all strange and unfamiliar...

When you've been sleeping in a strange bed that could never be as comfortable as your own...

If you've had to sit in restaurants for every meal, or search for a clean toilet each time...

It's great to come home!

Home is familiar and comfortable.

Home is easy.

Home has a comfortable bed and a hot shower.

Home has fresh food and home-cooked meals.

Home is always the best.


Megan

Tips For Travelling With A Toddler

When I asked for advice about how to tackle a plane trip with a toddler, I was thrilled with all the advice I received (read the comments here).

But I soon learnt that it isn't just the plane trips; there are many aspects of travelling with a toddler that are can be a little tiresome.

Let me give you an idea of the challenges we faced:

• Getting to Samoa involved: getting up at 3am, driving an hour to the airport, catching a bus from long-term parking to the terminal, waiting for the flight, a two-hour flight from Melbourne to Brisbane, a two-hour transit at Brisbane airport including a bus from domestic to international, a four-hour flight to Apia in Samoa, baggage collection, customs, and a bus to our resort.
• Sitting in restaurants for three meals every day, and even a quick meal can be dragged into a long wait when everything is being done in Samoan time.
• Hiring a mini-bus to tour (we were travelling with some friends) around the islands of Samoa. I wasn't well prepared for this, not realising that getting anywhere in Samoa takes at least an hour from where we were staying. Add to this a one-hour ferry trip each way to the other island, with Steve and I both feeling queasy... made for long days exploring.
• Coming home was even longer than getting there: a bus to the airport in Samoa, waiting at a hot airport for two hours, a six-hour flight to Sydney, a two-hour transit at Sydney airport including baggage collection, customs, check-in and a bus from international to domestic, an hour-and-a-half flight to Melbourne, baggage collection, a bus to long-term parking, and a one-hour drive home.

All of these are things that anyone choosing to travel takes in their stride. I had never even thought twice about waiting at airports or queuing for customs, but add a toddler into the mix and it took a bit more effort. So it was fortunate that all of you had given me some great advice and I was more prepared than I would have otherwise been. We also came up with some other ideas along the way, so here are my tips for making travelling with a toddler a little bit easier:

• No matter where you are - at an airport, in a plane, a car, a bus, restaurant - ALWAYS have a bag with various activities at the ready. Things like crayons, blank notepads, colouring books and playdough were invaluable, as were books and small toys. The biggest hit was stickers, and we all ended up with various stickers over our faces, arms, legs and all through the plane (luckily they came off easily!).
• As always, kids surprise you with what they get enjoyment from. For example, on the plane trip home a flight attendant gave Abbey two disposable cups, which she spent a while playing with in awe. It's worth looking around for whatever is at your disposal and seeing if it will give your child half an hour of fun.
• I am not a fan of children watching television all the time, however as a last resort we did have some Wiggles episodes loaded onto Steve's iPhone. It was great for THOSE moments when serious distraction tactics were required.
• We have a backpack carrier for Abbey, which we took for doing longer walks (easier to transport than a pusher). On the way home, we decided to use it around the airports and it worked brilliantly. Small things like going through customs are a hassle with a bored toddler who wants to run away, so it kept her contained while we did those things, and then we let her run around afterwards to release some energy.
• It's important to realise that sometimes you need to be a bit flexible with your plans. For example, Abbey was swimming all day and was exhausted by the evenings, so expecting her to sit quietly at a restaurant for dinner was a big ask. There were nights we just had to get her back to the room early.

I don't want to make it all sound like a hassle, because despite all of that, travelling with a child was fun. I'll talk more about the great parts in another post, and it's also worth noting that travelling with older kids (we had an eight-year-old and a five-year-old in our group as well) is a completely different experience. They're more able to have some patience and understand how to wait with Mum and Dad.

With a toddler though, it's just important to be organised and to remember that it can be both tiring and exciting - so much to explore! - for a little person.

Megan

Use Your Words

There is a lot of repetition involved in the day-to-day life of raising a child. Reading the same story a hundred times each day, watching the same movie over and over, repeating words to help them learn, naming colours, counting... the list goes on.

There are also phrases you find yourself saying to your kids repeatedly during the course of a day. This might become more annoying as they grow older, but with a toddler it's understandable; they need to be reminded of things quite often.

The most commonly used phrase in this household lately is, 'Use your words'.

I really believe it's important for children to express themselves. I find that encouraging Abbey to use her vocabulary can help to remove some of her toddler frustration.

Does that make me sound like a good mother? Okay, well now that we have that out of the way, I'll tell you the truth...

The main reason I do things this way is because I have a very low tolerance level for tantrums, screaming, whining or grunting noises. I'd rather hear Abbey speak than grunt or scream, so reminding her to use her words helps to save my sanity.

I don't respond to requests she makes in the form of a scream or a grunt. I look at her and say, 'Abbey, use your words please' and she will. Then, and only then, will I give her what she's asking for.

I also thank her politely for using her words and tell her how good that was. Because positive reinforcement is very, very important. See, I am a good mother really. I know that teaching a child is a lot like training a dog... oh, hang on, I've just dug myself into a hole there, haven't I?

What do you find yourself repeating to your kids? Or your pets (same-same)?

Megan

The Two Week Challenge

When we first booked our trip to Samoa, it didn't occur to me. As it got closer and closer, though, I realised: there would be no computer on my holiday with me.

Two weeks. Without my computer.

No writing. No blogging. No tweeting. No Facebook. NO EMAIL!

A few friends asked me if I could do it. They may have doubted me. But honestly, I was secretly looking forward to it.

I did take a notebook and pen, intending to at least do some writing (the old-fashioned way) but apart from a few quick notes here and there, I had no motivation to write.

I guess I really needed a break. I needed to focus on my family and myself, to spend unlimited time with Steve and Abbey, to relax with my friends without feeling I should be doing other things.

I loved that I could spend time with them without once saying, I'm just trying to get this done. Whilst I hear a lot of people saying they struggle holidaying with kids, because of all the day-to-day stuff that still has to be done, I felt the opposite. I enjoyed the fact that I only had to do those things, without trying to achieve five hundred other things in between.

I made the most of spending hours on end in the pool and at the beach with them, not once looking at my watch.

Yes, I needed a break. But it's also great to be back, with the motivation to write new things and, more importantly, to limit my time at my computer where possible.

Because sometimes there is nothing like giving my family my undivided attention.

Megan

Samoa - The People (Part I)

It was almost time to leave for our day driving around the island of Upolu. I sat on the porch outside our room, looking out over the beach and reading a book, waiting for the word that everyone else was ready to leave. Steve was finalising the car hire paperwork. Abbey was playing inside the room, occasionally coming out to the porch with me.

I heard a noise that sounded like the front door to the room opening and closing, so I looked up, expecting to see Steve walking in. No one there. Hold on, I thought, that isn't right. Where's Abbey? I walked into the room - she was nowhere in sight. I checked the bathroom - not there.

I opened the door and stepped out to the front of the room. I looked to my right - nothing. I looked to my left - there was a housekeeping lady waving to me. 'Have you seen my daughter?' I asked, beginning to panic.

'Room 122!' she said excitedly. 'My daughter went into another room?' I asked as I raced to the room next to ours. How on earth would she get in there? The door was slightly ajar, so I pushed it open. There, sitting happily on the hip of a Samoan lady chatting away as she cleaned, was my twenty-one-month-old daughter.

I grabbed Abbey and said to the woman, 'You frightened me; you can't just come and take my child!' and rushed back into our room. I was very shaken.

It took me a few hours to comprehend what had happened. In our world, taking someone's child like that is not done. Turning to see your own child out of sight is scary - they could be anywhere, anything could have happened. We don't allow strangers near our children and we know where they are at all times.

But, as we drove around the island and I saw children wandering around, playing in big groups together, the older kids carting the younger ones around, it dawned on me. This is the Samoan way. In the evenings, we heard bells being rung, and we were told that was the parents calling the children in for dinner. I realised that if this is how they are raised, the housekeeping woman would not have thought that I would be upset by her actions that morning. She knew there was a toddler in our room - she had spoken to her before around the resort - and just wanted to see her, perhaps even to help me.

The next day, when we walked into a restaurant and, once again, Abbey was scooped into the arms of the closest waitress and taken into the kitchen to say hello to everyone, I knew.

I knew that I had a lot to learn about life on this island. The children, growing up here, the way of life, the values of this culture. Because this one aspect of life had thrown me, it had shown me how big the gap really is between our world and theirs.

And isn't that what travelling is all about? Learning about other cultures, finding out how they live, and broadening your mind.

In Part II, I'll share some things I learnt about the Samoan culture.



Megan

A Photo Tour Of Samoa

So, did you miss me?

I'm back, but not quite into things yet as I'm struck down with a very painful ear infection. We had such an amazing holiday, so I wanted to share some of my pictures until I get the energy to write again...

Megan

Note To Readers

Megan

Holiday Mode

I meant to post here more this week, I really did.

The thing is, I'm in Holiday Mode.

I remember when I worked in an office, I always struggled to concentrate on work leading up to a holiday and the week before going was often a big waste of time. I didn't want to start anything new before I left and all I felt like doing was chatting to friends in the office, emailing friends outside the office and - even better - leaving the office.

Leading up to this holiday is a bit different. I'm at home now, so I don't have to worry about any of that (except for my writing and blogging - sorry for being slack) and I also have different things to organise these days. Packing for a toddler, anyone?

I have been ready to go since Tuesday, when Abbey spent most of the day with my Mum while I cleaned the house, packed and got some writing things finished off. The rest of the week has been a waiting game (and trying not to get the house dirty again).

In my mind, I have been on holidays most of the week, just without the cocktails and warm weather.

Those bits will be added tomorrow.

Megan

Hump Day Happiness

I spent much of yesterday evening contorting my face into any expression but a smile.

We met with our builder, and when he spoke of cutting holes in our beautiful floors, ripping down walls and lifting beams into holes in our roof, I cringed.

When he talked about it taking six or seven months, I grimaced.

Then we spoke about money and you really don't want to know how my face looked at that point.

But Wednesdays are set aside for smiles and cheer (as declared on Hump Day Happiness by Naomi at Under the Yardarm). So here are the bits that made me smile:

It is all due to begin in three to four weeks. This is good, because I am the most impatient person in the history of the world.

The vision I have of our completed house will pull me through. The extra living space, the long wall of glass doors opening out onto our backyard, my study with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, our bigger ensuite. All this makes me smile.

And there are other reasons I am smiling right now - my little girl is better and back to her normal happy self, and it's only three more sleeps until our holiday to Samoa!

It appears that some of the waiting in my life is about to end.

Megan

If I Were

If I were a month, I would be November; with all the promise of summer and celebrations ahead

If I were a day of the week, I would be Saturday; lots to achieve in a small amount of time

If I were a time of day, I would be sunrise; a full day ahead of me

If I were a planet, I would be Earth; home

If I were an animal, I would be a bird; free and independent but fiercely loyal of its family

If I were a direction, I would be south; the compass always pointed in the opposite direction

If I were a piece of furniture, I would be an antique wooden chair; loved but positioned away from the action

If I were a liquid, I would be water; not always thought of but always there

If I were a gemstone, I would be an opal; forever evolving

If I were a tree, I would be a gum tree; strong and patriotic

If I were a tool, I would be a spade; digging and digging

If I were a flower, I would be an iris

If I were a kind of weather, I would be the strength of the sun on a mild day

If I were a musical instrument, I’d be a piano; positioned in the corner with the antique chair

If I were a colour, I would be blue

If I were an emotion, I would be joy

If I were a fruit, I would be a strawberry

If I were a sound, I would be the crackling of a fire

If I were an element, I would be earth

If I were a car, I’d be nothing flash; something to get from one point to another

If I were a food, I would be a warm, hearty dinner; bringing a family together

If I were a place, I would be home

If I were a material, I would be a patchwork; ready to be pieced together

If I were a taste, I would be an acquired one

If I were a scent, I would be rain on the hot ground of a summer's day

If I were an object, I would be looking for affection

If I were a body part, I’d be a pair of eyes; trying not to be open and transparent

If I were a facial expression, I would be the stare of a daydreamer

If I were a pair of shoes, I would be sneakers; understated but dependable

I found this beautiful idea from Naomi at Under the Yardarm. Go on, take it and tell us about you.

Megan

The Waiting Game

The next stop on my writing path is called Waiting.

Tania and I have submitted our manuscript. (For those who aren't aware, Tania McCartney and I have been working on a new book idea, a non-fiction series for children. Unfortunately I can't share any more details with you at this stage.)

And now we wait.

I am not good at this stage (but is any writer?). I am also worried that someone may not love our book idea as much as we do.

I guess it's lucky that we are both so confident in the concept we have written and the layout and look we have designed in our minds. We are so sure of its potential to succeed that we will keep trying. Again and again and again. We are determined to make this work.

But wouldn't it be amazing if it's accepted sooner rather than later...

Megan