The story of my first car... (every day in May)

In high school, I drove 'Big Red', an aging magenta Falcon. It was the family car, but as I'd loaned my Dad the money to fix it so often, he promised it was my car too.

Driving Big Red was a learning experience, to say the least. It was petrol and LPG. LPG was at that point under 30c/L which meant that unlike my friends, I didn't really have to worry too much about the fuel bill. I mean, petrol was something horrific like 77c/L back then!!!

I also didn't have to worry about reversing. Big Red didn't do reverse... unless you had your right leg dangling from the driver's side, Flintstone style, or you had a friend to push.

Big Red also didn't have a door handle on the driver's side. Every time I got into the passenger side to slide over the seat to the driver's side, I felt like I was being watched - and that every person watching thought I was stealing the car.

I remember the day that door handle fell off. I'd dropped my Mum at her ultra-early morning bakery job and was making the long drive home to our house (25 min) to get an hour of shut-eye before I drove back for my own corner-store job. I needed some gas, so I was stopped at the service station with a hideous black and fluoro hoodie on over my jammies (it was Winter and the nineties). I was safety conscious and all the doors were locked except the driver's door. After paying, I went to get back into the car and to my surprise, the handle just came off in my hand. How embarrassing - here I was, on the main street in my jammies, with the world just starting to wake up. Any minute someone would pull up behind me and I'd have to explain my ridiculous situation!

Lucky a nice, hairy man on a bike had seen the whole thing and knew a way to break into the passenger side! He did it with such speed and ease, I hoped that he noticed how crappy the car was on the inside! I sent him message via ESP, "This is not the car you are looking for, nothing here to see".

My mum junked poor Big Red some time while I was away at uni.

The first car I actually bought was a Honda Civic. I remember going to the bank to extract all my savings with J (my now husband). I was surprised at how small a bundle of notes making $1000 really looked. I considered asking for it all in tens!

We looked around some car yards, with him offering to loan me some money once we saw what was on offer. He had a compact little car and had never had to drive a 'bomb'. I, of course, was too proud. I told him, "I'll know it when I see it."

I'd already picked a name - Cecilia. Like the Paul Simon song. Of course, after Big Red, I totally expected any car I'd be driving to be, "breaking my heart... shaking my confidence daily". But when I saw the tiny white car parked in the corner with just the right price tag ($999, of course), I knew this was a great car and there was no way I could give it that name.

So Geraldine (Geri - like the Spice Girl) came into my possession. While Big Red had been an auto, Geri, being a '74 model, quite obviously was not. I had an SA licence (which didn't stipulate manual/auto) and I'd only really driven auto since my three driving school lessons several years earlier. Uh oh. And did I mention that we were buying this car to take home to our very own garage in the house we'd just moved into... FOUR HOURS AWAY?

Let's just say, I learned to drive 'four on the floor' by the time we'd hit the eighth or ninth set of lights and I've never been so happy that the Bruce Highway is reasonably straight and long!!! J drove ahead the whole way and I just focused on his tail lights and alternated between prayer and swear words the whole way home.

This was after my brother had added a few nice touches

like fuzzy dice and car seat covers. Must be naughties 

because my hair isn't permed! 

Geri lived in our garage for several years. I often drove around town looking for missing hubcaps (poor J's attempt to pimp it out), occasionally for missing parts of my muffler and exhaust. She had a screwdriver to hold up a window after the winding mechanism broke.

She often squeezed six passengers inside if I drove friends home after a shift at the nightclub where I worked. Thank goodness her windows fogged quickly, I never got pulled over for an over-filled car like some of my friends! She was used to ferry passengers from the reception after our wedding.

When it rained, she surprised me with crops of mushrooms growing out of the ancient carpet in the boot. When I saw those mushrooms waving, I would slam the boot so fast!!! 

My baby brother drove her for a few years after that, and then just as she was about to hit vintage status, we realised we could not keep her going any longer. My brother and I cried when we took her to the wreckers. They gave us a hundred bucks, mostly because I think they felt a bit sorry for us, all red eyed and heartbroken. I still have the Honda and Civic badges, they used to be stuck to the top of my monitors until I got a touch screen.

No other car has held quite the same attachment for me. She was the very start of my new, grown up life. She gave me my independence and I loved her!

Life in general

Well, we're nearly at the end of the first block of fulltime working mummy. I'm *really* looking forward to two whole weeks off with my babies and catching up on some much needed sleep!

Working fulltime has been really great in lots of ways, the kids have got to spend way more quality time with their dad (who is much better at keeping the house tidy than me) and work has definitely been much easier.

In the past, when I job-shared, I spent a lot of time catching up with all that had happened over my 'off' days - lots of meetings, reading and general bluffing people that I knew what was going on. Now I start each day knowing exactly where to pick up and can plan ahead a lot more easily. Less meetings means that I'm home a bit earlier a couple of days each week, too. Working through my lunchtimes and getting to work an hour early means that I rarely have work to take home. So when I'm home, I'm home - secure in the knowlege I know what I'm doing the next day. That's a nice feeling. I know I can be a better person, wife and mum when I'm feeling happy and secure at work.

The downside is that I can feel my kids getting further away from me. We all still get along, there are still lots of laughs, hugs and games, but they are living lives away from me and I notice we don't 'read' each other as quickly and readily as before. It's a real effort, sometimes a struggle, to stay connected and that hurts a bit. I'm really looking forward to holidays where we can spend more time together!

I have to remind myself that this job isn't yet permanent, that my role could be downsized depending on funding/transfers etc, and I find myself wondering if it's a good fit. Part of me hopes that it will be downsized! But after much debate, prayer and weighing of pros and cons I still think that this is more than likely the best option for our family. But I don't have to like it!

I am feeling more used to the new routine, wish me continued stamina, please!!!

Here are some pictures of our recent adventure at the International Airshow. Lots of fun for a family who loves to be in the outdoors together. We packed a picnic, a blanket and some cameras and headed out for a day of togetherness. The planes were just a bonus :)

Work update...

Over half-way through week 3 - that means I'm 25% through the term... HOORAY! So far, so good :)

I have been pushing myself to exhaustion slightly, trying to do things with my own kids after hours. We're still making the weekly trips to the park and our weekly beach excursion has been well received (although we won't make it tomorrow, as I'm having a night out with the girls instead). I'm still managing to get simple but healthy meals on the table (I'm learning to forgive myself if sometimes the mash has come out of a packet). We're still reading, playing games, singing and having fun together, albeit for only a couple of hours each afternoon.

Working fulltime, the PROS -
* the house does not get nearly as messy - we're out more often and lets face it, I'm often the instigator of messy activities ;)
* less mopping/vacuuming/scrubbing all round
* I have way more time and patience for the 'witching hour' each day - I haven't had all day to be wound up by toddler tantrums and I'm just so pleased to be with them, my patience stretches further
* I feel much better about my contribution at work and am able to relax a bit more about making deadlines, fewer meetings etc
* I get one-on-one time with my oldest - what a treat to go get an iceblock at the tuckshop with Mr Z when I don't have playground duty (he even holds my hand while we walk over there)
* Hubby is loving getting a bit more time/control at home with the kids, the daddy-child relationship is growing even stronger (my hubby has always been a hands-on Dad and is enjoying the extra time at home)

Working fulltime, the CONS -
* I'm still having a little cry each morning on arrival at my desk - can't bear to put my photos up yet, I will well up at the very thought of my small boy smiling and having fun somewhere else.
* I feel the mother-baby bond slackening (although I remind myself that this always happens regardless - weaning and walking take care of that even without working)
* I'm missing seeing/hearing/cuddling my precious babies and it hurts. Makes me wonder how people who have split custody arrangements ever survive!
* I now have even less idea where that missing sock/library book/teddy/lunchbox is!

I feel like I must have grown up a bit these last six years - motherhood seems to have made me more organised, the weeks are flying by without too much drama :) I just keep looking at the calendar and reminding myself mid-semester break is just around the corner and then everything seems more manageable :)

I survived!

I survived the first week... HOORAY!

I managed to do something 'special' with the kids every afternoon, so I feel a lot better about the whole 'missing out' at home. We went to the beach, did some gardening, built a huge (heart-shaped) trainset and had fun on the verandah. These are all things that we do regularly anyway, so they weren't that special, but I was really concerned that these staples of our 'pre-work' life might disappear. I think I'm going to have to work hard to keep them in the schedule though, as today I'm particularly tired!!!

Wednesday in the garden was funny. I'd just said to Miss Piggy that I would have to pull up the (nearly dead) pea shoots as they were never going to fruit (or whatever it is you call pea plants growing actual edible peas). As I pulled the browning strings from the soil I noticed we had actually (by some strange miracle) managed to grow real peas! NINE of them in fact! Yes, nine actual peas in 7 actual pods! Not a feast in anyone's book, but highly pleasing to a four-year old girl who fancies herself a green-thumb. We pulled them up anyway, and she planted 8 new peas to watch grow from the dining room window. We ate the peas. They were AWFUL, but she claimed they were yum.

We also planted some basil. She was disappointed to hear that the leaves were 'it'. I think she'll be happy when I let her attack it with scissors, though - actually, do we cut it or should we rip off the leaves as needed?

The Small Boy seems to be coping OK with the change - he got a little bit wobbly-mouthed on the second day, but other than that no dramas. It seems he knows I'll be back and is enjoying the attention from the rest of the family in my absence. I know he must be missing me a bit, though, because twice this week he has crawled out of his bedroom (after bed-time) to lie at my feet under the computer table while I work.

I love this little fat-man, and am sad that my days

of listing him as my employer are over :(

Work is really good. I've slotted back in without much drama and feel confident that I still have 'it'. I'm not playing my a-game yet, but I'm doing OK. I'm hoping that after a full-on first few weeks, the workload might ease a bit and I can go back to getting some actual sleep!!!

Wish me luck!

D-Day... life rolls on...

Well... it happened! After 5+ years being primarily a stay-at-home mum (working part-time as a teacher for 3 of those years) I have become a full-time worker once more.

The flowers my very best friend sent me for surviving

the transition back to work. I also had texts, phone calls and emails

from all the people I love the best x

It was so hard to leave my chunky little cherubs this morning, waving at me over their breakfast bowls - and the mms I got when I looked at my phone at work nearly broke my heart: "Good Luck, Mummy!" attached to a picture of them on the couch at their Nana and Papas.

It has been a bit of a shock among my circle of mummy-friends. Indeed it was a bit of a shock to me, as well! There is nothing I like more than spending time with my kids, working to improve their quality of life, so to go back to a full load at work seems a bit out of character for me. BUT... it was time for a change and this opportunity was too good to pass up. When I first considered the idea, it seemed a ridiculous step to take, but slowly the pieces began to fall into place and I really believe that this is going to be a great step for our family.

I am DETERMINED. I have scheduled into the weekly routine a visit to the playground to catch up with Miss Piggy's friends (as she will no longer attend playgroup), a family outing for fish and chips at the beach - I work at the beach so this is totally doable, and while not the healthiest food, once per week aint gonna kill us. I've learned to cook quicker, I've stocked the freezer with heat-and-eats, so that I will spend less time in the kitchen and have more time with my babies. I've bought books that are specifically for reading on days mummy works (you should see Miss Piggy clamouring for the latest installment of the Faraway Tree books) and I will remind myself that I need to spend those hours between school and bed with my children... running around the backyard, chatting over snacks and playing boardgames... and maybe that way, they won't really miss out on quality "mummy" time at all.

This decision is made easier by a whole lot of things:

It means I will have job security - and be connected to a school where my children will be educated. I couldn't risk losing the opportunity to see them compete in sports days, perform school plays and just hard at work in their classrooms. Last year I worked the two days Mr Z went to kindy. The hours were tricky and I was rarely able to drop him off and pick him up. I really understood then just how important that regular contact was with his place of 'work'. It helped me to ask meaningful questions about his day so I didn't just get the response, "Dunno... don't 'member!"

It means that we can save for another overseas adventure and see some of my family members in the UK before they are too old to really play with the kids. My grandfather told me - last time I visited him - that seeing his great-grandchildren, getting to hold them and rock them to sleep, was an absolute highlight of his life. Now that he's gone, the memory of that conversation - had face to face over a meal - is so precious to me.

It means that the kids will get to see more of their Daddy who will be able to work from home and take more of an active role in caring for them while I am at work. He in turn can share some of the burden of being the breadwinner. Working for yourself makes you really worry about what would happen if you became ill or incapacitated. So we can share the worry about providing for our kids. Of course the kids will also love playing with Nana and Papa when we are both out at work.

It means poor Small Boy will no longer have to endure an hour plus in the car each day travelling to and from schools. I figure if I'm driving all that way down there each day, I may as well stay and be paid anyway!!!

However, it also means that I have had to say goodbye to all the lovely friends I've made at baby-music, playgroup and my study group. It will be hard finding time to get together outside of school hours and I'll admit many tears have been shed over this loss. It also means I don't get to kiss and hug my baby whenever I feel the urge. After 13 months spent almost exclusively together, going to work without him felt like going without an arm. I physically ached each time I thought of his cheeky smile.

It also means I've cut some other corners. I'll be giving up a few other things to make more time in my day (might actually give up blogger, too) but maybe the best thing I've learned about being a mummy is that making a sacrifice for the benefit of being with your kids, actively helping them to learn and grow, is no sacrifice at all. It is a privilege, and one I'm blessed to have been given three times over.

Wish me luck while I work this tangled mess out. I'm hoping it will teach me patience and organisation :) I hope I'll be able to find the energy to fit everything in and enjoy the ride!

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Do you work full-time? Do you have any hints? Please, PLEASE, leave them below ;)