I can't sing..

This is so much the case that I took singing lessons shortly after Makena was born so I wouldn't make her cry when I sang her lullabies.  Not that she did cry, but it would have been a perfectly reasonable response.  The lessons helped the ittiest bit--my teacher taught me to whisper-sing.  I'm pretty sure she made up this technique, but it did relieve the guilt I felt about possibly being brought up on charges for child abuse by vocal torture.   

While I can't sing, Mark can.  He's quite talented actually.  He also plays the piano well and can often just recreate any song he hears.  I'm not sure whether my disinclination to music is related to my clear lack of talent, but I've never been one to know who sings what song and who's the latest rising star.  I do like a good song, but it takes a bit for me to even make the mental note of the title/artist.  Mark, on the other hand, listens to every genre--jazz, country, hip hop.. you name it, it's on his iPod, along with a bunch of other songs you can't name. 


No matter which way you slice it, Mark has an affinity toward music.  With it comes an almost compulsory need to sing along with whatever song is playing.  He thinks I'm making fun of him.. but I adore this.  The other day we were driving along and the song, "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum came on the radio.  I couldn't help but smile at him, especially when he sang the "need" part--if you know the song you know what I'm talking about.  The smile wasn't even a smile.. it was an ooze, but he doesn't know this; all he saw was the smile. 

So, Markus, I declare before all four of the people who read my blog.. I love to hear you sing... don't ever stop! 



 

Footy!!

I used to like American Football.  When I was kid, my dad, brother and I would watch the Redskins whenever they had a game.  They were good back then. I was a really good player too.  I could run fast and catch and I could throw the ball better than most men I knew.  But, after moving away from the east coast I grew away from the sport.  The Redskins sucked so badly their games were never broadcast outside of the Va/DC area.  Meeting Mark put the final nail in the American Football coffin.  He just could not get into the sport.  After watching a few Aussie Rules footy games.. I figured out why.

Several years ago, on one of my first visits to Australia, Mark took me to a footy game in Tasmania.  Much of the story I'm about to recount was told to me by Mark.  Since he was the one who told me the bird  that was bullying me was a Magpie and later refuted that in the comment sections, you might not want to make any life altering decisions based on the information contained below.  Aussie Rules originated in Victoria, the state in which we currently live.  Since Melbourne is the biggest city in the state, the area is saturated with teams.  Quite different than the US.

 

There is currently no team in Tassie, but according to Mark they tend to root  (root means something altogether different here... I can't remember if that's just an Australian thing or if its alternative definition is known in the US as well??) barrack for Hawthorne in Tassie.  Now, this is information Mark did not disclose to me until.. well ever, I worked it out on my own when we turned up to the game.  You see, Hawthorne was playing Sinhilda, I was told.  (That is what everyone says--don't let anyone tell you different.)  Mark, being the loving husband that he is, wanted me to get into the game so he bought me a Sinhilda footy top!  Now, you may or may not recall that in the early days of visiting Australia I was under the impression that Australians hated Americans. Why, you ask?  Because Mark said they did.  For this reason I rarely ever spoke in public.  I really tried to keep a low profile.  Nothing like keeping a low profile by wearing a red/white/black jersey in a sea of yellow and brown.  Thanks Mark.  

Not that Americans aren't into their football, but it's different here.  The game is so extremely intense.  They rarely have commercials because there's NEVER a break.  They don't wear pads or helmets or any protective gear.  They don't stop after each play.  Every player is fit beyond belief because they are running constantly.  There are no overweight players as you sometimes see in the states. It makes American football look like a tea party, I don't mean the political kind.  I imagine it's because of this that the fans are intense as well.  So, turning up in the opposing team's jersey was nothing short of traumatic.  Once again, thank you Mark.

After much mockery I finally learned that Sinhilda is actually St. Kilda, the St. (Saint) Kilda Saints, in fact.  Australians have a law against enunciating, apparently.   Lucky enough when we moved to Australia our closest team is St. Kilda (not like the other teams are far or anything) but, since I already had the jersey, I already had my team!  Serendipity! 

The reason I'm writing about this now is because yesterday was the Grand Final--the Superbowl of Australian Rules football.  Another comparison that makes me marvel at the difference between Australia in the US is there are oodles of people at Mark's work that were going to the game.  Kessler's teacher went as well.  I only heard of people who knew people that went to the Superbowl.  Anyway, my team, St. Kilda made it to the Grand Final along with the Collingwood Magpies.  It's unfortunate that my mother and father-in-law are Collingwood fans.  I just can't root barrack for a team whose Mascot is terrorizing me. 

I wasn't too interested in watching the game, until I started watching the game.  Holy hell it's action packed.  It just took a few seconds before I was ooowing and aaawing.  Next thing I knew I was yelling at the TV.  St. Kilda was a few goals down at half time.  I kind of figured they were going to play less aggressively because of the deficit.  Not the case, my friends.  They rallied back to tie the game, then take the lead.  Collingwood answered and the game was tied with only a couple of minutes on the clock.  Mark and I started talking about whether they would go into sudden death or whether they'd have to play another quarter if there was a tie.  We'd soon find out; the game did end with a tie.  We anxiously watched the TV as many of the players collapsed onto the ground out of sheer exhaustion.  The expression on both teams' faces was nothing short of disbelief and defeat.  Those who weren't on the ground were wandering around the field aimlessly.  Why weren't they getting ready for the tie breaker?  Because there isn't one, until next weekend. They have to come back and play again!!!!  The poor bastards!  Can you imagine?  I feel so sorry for the players and the die hard fans that won't be able to come back next weekend.  I don't feel sorry for the AFL or whoever gets the proceeds from two Grand Finals in an 8 day period! 

On a side note, it's so [insert a range of emotions here] to watch the nuances of how the kids are changing as they adjust to living here.  For example, Mark was getting Makena excited about the game.  The week before last there was footy day at school where the kids were allowed to wear civvies with a footy top instead of their uniform.  So, we bought Makena a St. Kilda top.  With it came a lesson on who she was "going for" as this is all new to her, of course.  Mark kept quizzing her so she'd know the right answer to give.  At various points over the last several days "who are you going for" has been the topic of conversation.  

The choice in wording, though subtle, elicits excitement, wonder, disbelief...  I mean, my kids are Australian.  They always have been, but it won't be long before that's all they'll remember, especially Kessler.  Every day their accent changes and they use a new word.  Of course this is completely normal for them.  It isn't any different than it's supposed to be.  I really am so excited for them, but at times I feel a little sad because it feels like a part of me is slipping away. Like, they'll never know their mom was a kick ass quarterback!!  Lucky for me, I'm not much of a traditionalist, so the feeling is fleeting rather than an anchor that ties me down.  I am quickly reminded that the type of "me" that I am, is exactly what brought us here.  So with that, I look forward to the future with anxious anticipation and a small tear in my eye.

Letter

Dear Mr. Magpie,

I hope this letter finds you well.  You're right; that's a lie.  But, I do hope it finds you reasonable, reasonable enough to honor my requests.

I'm not sure what you think I've done or plan to do to you, but whatever it is, I assure you your attacks are unjustified. Really, I'm just walking to retrieve the car from the train station so I can pick up my beautiful kids.  Surely you can find no harm in that, can you?  Yet, you still find it necessary to dive-bomb me.  While I'm glad you have yet to drop a "bomb", the near misses of your body to my head are getting a bit unsettling.  Please understand, I am far too cool to duck and cover and shout expletives at birds, but that is what you've driven me to do.  Unlike you, I prefer to fly under the radar--you know, go unnoticed, blend in with the scenery.  While we are on the subject.  Your morning serenade is really starting to piss me off as well.  You see, dawn is when I go to bed and that is when you decide to announce your presence to the world--from the tree right outside my f'g bedroom window.  While I absolutely adore my husband, having you screech his name during those delicate first few moments prior to slumber well, it just doesn't endear you to me.  "Maawwwwwwk.. MAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWK"  In fact, it's downright maddening.  Is it necessary to be so loud?  On one of your more vocal days--you know, the one where you started at dawn and were still at it when I left at 3:00 p.m. to pick up the car, I could hear you loud and clear for over four blocks. Other sounds came and went but your incessant screeching remained for FOUR blocks!! 

So, please accept my offer of a truce.  I promise never to write about you on my blog again, if you immediately cease and desist with the terrorism.  Fair?


Sincerely,
Kelly Pellas

Young Love

Makena and I found Kessler and his friends on the playground today at pick up.  The fact that that is where they can be found on a fairly regular basis gives me a huge sense of relief; our Year of Winters is nearly coming to an end.  I won't be sorry to see it go!

It took me a few seconds to spot Kessler; it always does.  I think I feel I should be able to know where the kids are instantaneously--it gives me pause that my eyes aren't drawn to them immediately when I'm within a certain range.  I think that's why a few seconds feels like an eternity.  Anyway, he came bounding around the corner with a little girl in tow.  Polina is her name.  Kristi explained that they had been holding hands since they came outside.  I suspect they were taking turns dragging each other around as Polina had now taken the lead.  She and Kessler were making their way into the playhouse right outside the door to their classroom.

Makena loves when there is something to distract me; she wastes no time skirting around my peripheral until she finds something to play with.  There's no shortage--it's really an amazing classroom.  And lucky for Makena I'm easily distracted when I enter Kessler's room.  I always hope to catch a glimpse of him doing whatever it is that he does when I'm not around.

A few days ago I arrived when he was doing Show and Tell.  It was great timing.  His back was to the door even.  Kristi asked where he had gotten the stuffed Penguin--which Kessler used to call Penguingy.  He told her he found it in his room.  Which is sort of true.  He received it for Christmas last year and it was one of his special babies for a while.  When I was unpacking boxes a few weeks ago I found it and showed it to him.  "Awww, it's Penguin!"  It made me just a little sad that he pronounced it properly.  Kristi asked if any of his friends had any questions.  A bunch of hands flew to the air.  She prompted Kessler to call on one of his classmates.  "Ummmmm... Alesky."  Kessler said like a seasoned public speaker.  "Who bought it for you?"  Kessler quickly responded as if to quell anyone from getting the wrong idea about Penguins origins, "My mommy didn't give it to me.  I found it in my room."  Kristi prompted him to call on someone else.. "Ummmmm.. Zack."  "Does it talk?"  "No."  Kristi asked, "What if I push on his belly?"  "No".  "Give it a go; let's see."  So, Kessler pressed the belly and nothing.. "What about his beak?"  Kessler pressed his beak, nothing again.  By this time, Kessler's audience started to stir because of our presence and Kessler turned around to see me.  He gave a bashful smile as I came over to greet him.  I am so impressed with Miss Kristi.  She really puts in a lot of effort--getting a bunch of 3 and 4 year old to be comfortable speaking in front of a group is nothing short of brilliant. 

Then yesterday Ms. Mina, the music teacher was there.  The kids were in a circle--again, Kessler's back was to me.  They each had a ball behind their back.  Ms. Mina sang, "I'm looking for a blue ball, a blue ball.. Who can give me a bluuuue ball?"  Kessler sneaked a peak behind his back, no doubt trying to remind himself of the color of his ball.  It was green.  "I'm looking for an orange ball, an orange ball... Who can give me an oraaaange ball?"  Kessler's feet were stretched out in front of him, rocking back and forth.  I assume he was anxiously anticipating his turn.  "I'm looking for a green ball, a green ball... Who can give me a greeeen ball?"  It was almost as if you can identify the exact second he realized, me.. I can give you a green ball!!  He whipped it around then gently rolled it to Ms. Mina.  When they were done with the ball song, Ms. Mina looked at us and asked if Makena would like to join in.  She said yes, and sat down next to Kessler.  He seemed proud to have her there--almost as proud as I was.

Back to today, Makena had long since left my side; climbing on the various play structures.  I summoned them to join me at the door; to my surprise they both came almost immediately.  Polina stood there watching Kessler getting ready to leave; I thought for sure she was going to start crying.  I asked Kessler if he'd like to give her a hug.  He immediately ran to her and gave her a big hug.  She beamed as soon as she realized he was coming back for her.  Kessler joined me again and I noticed another little girl was now standing next to Polina with a look of anticipation.  I asked if he wanted to give her a hug.  He said, "I already did."  Then Kristi clarified, "Anna."  Kessler obliged.

There are a few doors connecting the inside to the outside.  For some reason, the one we always go through is connected to the toilets.  The doors are all glass--no need for modesty with 3 year olds, I suppose.  Makena needed to go so Kessler and I were waiting.  I looked back to see poor Polina still standing there gazing at Kessler.  Shortly after I noticed, he noticed and walked over to the door.  He put his hand on the window; Polina's face absolutely lit up as she ran to the door and placed her hand against the window.. right where Kessler's was.  They both gently kissed the door.  Everyone, together now.. "awwwwww"

I was telling Mark the story on the way home from the train station.  Of course he got a kick out of it.  For my benefit, he asked Kessler if he wanted to get a belt soon?  So he could start putting notches on it... to which Makena responded, "I do; I want a belt!"  Doh!!

M100W

I mentioned the "The Magic 100 Words" in an earlier post.  Makena has to learn to read and write the 100 most common words.  We practice nearly everyday and she's doing extremely well.  One day when we were reviewing the words, Kessler came up to me and said, "I want to do it!!"  "You do?  Which color?"  He picked a color.  So, I read each of the words as he repeated after me.  It's not quite the same exercise we do with Makena.  He confidently repeated every word, very focused, very determined.  When he was done he proudly received a high 5.  Now he has to practice every time Makena does and he also earns the same treat she does for working so hard. 

Get Away!

Father's day in Australia is September 5th.  We celebrated this year by going to the museum to see the Dinosaur exhibit--that was Mark's idea.  This shows exactly why he's such an amazing dad.  The kids love dinosaurs and nothing makes him happier than seeing them happy.

In addition to the Dinosaur exhibit, there were bug and animal exhibits; the kids loved both.  But, the highlight was the Dinosaur IMAX movie!  Kessler's first IMAX experience.  We loaded up on drinks and popcorn; Mark hates popcorn so much that he can't even stand the smell.  I'm too selfish to forgo the overpriced heart attack in box.  After all, we've only seen about 6 movies in as many years.  We found great seats, halfway up and dead center.  The kids and I immediately dug into the popcorn when the lights went out.

"We need to get out of here!", Kessler warned.  "Why?"  "It's too dark!!"  I did my best to settle him; I failed as he evacuated his seat and climbed across the armrest.  I didn't try hard to discourage him as he wiggled his way onto my lap, resting his head against my chest.  Ever since he was just a few weeks old he seemed so big to hold comfortably, but for some reason, on this day he fit perfectly. 

As the movie began he sat upright with nervous anticipation.  There was a lot to talk about and whispering was not an option.  The commentary ran the gamut from, "Oh, he's so cute!!" to "Get away!  Get away!" as he pushed himself into my chest.   I showed him that he could reach out and feel the illusion.  With that bit of information, he started swatting--finding comfort in the nothingness that met his hand.  Every so often I had to remind of the swat.  Each time he realized he was safe, but never safe enough to whisper!

Geography Lesson

I thought I'd give a quick Georgraphy lesson..

Too smart to be just 3

The other night we were having dinner when one of the kids realized they didn't have anything to drink.  I neglected to put their cups out and they noticed because they saw I was drinking something they aren't normally allowed to have. (Schweppes Agnus --YUM).  I agreed to let them have some, but only if one of them retrieved their cups from the cupboard.  Kessler took up the task.  He came back with a green one and a blue one.  He asked Makena which one she wanted; she responded, "Blue."  Kessler said, "No, I want blue" and gave her the green one.  

Mark and I shook our heads in unison.. It was a little funny, but definitely wrong.  So, Mark said, "Kessler, do you want chocolate (pause) or a smack on the bum?"  Mind you, a smack on the bum is by no means a bad thing for the kids.  It's a game they play where Mark tells them he's going to do it (as though it's a threat) and they take off running, cackling, giggling and screaming until they are caught and the bum smacking ensues.  The kids love it, but not as much as chocolate.  Or, they know if offered a smack on the bum they have to decline else they can't get chased which is the whole point of the game.  Anyway, Mark settles in to explain the point behind his question when Kessler immediately hands Makena the green cup, snatches the blue cup.. then says, "Now, can I have chocolate?"  To which Mark responded, "Ahhh, yes."  We both smile as we realize he was just outsmarted by a 3 year old.

Bonjourno a tutti!

I had just arrived at the pick up area when one of the moms from Makena's class greeted me and introduced me to the person she was talking with.  This mom always does this--it's such a thoughtful thing to do!!  She explained that we are new and told the other mom how well Makena is doing.  Then she said that Makena has been participating a lot more in class.  Then her face lit up as she said to me, "Oh, I forgot to tell you!  Madeline (her daughter) was telling me the other day that Makena said, "Bonjourno a tutti" in Italian class last week."  Apparently, each week in class the teacher has the students take turns coming to the front of the class to say, "Hello everyone!" in Italian.  Makena has been too shy to do it, that is until last week!  Madeline was sooo excited for Makena; she couldn't wait to tell her mom.  She said everyone in class started clapping when she did it.

And there I stood, tearing up at the thought of my brave little girl and all her wonderful friends.  

Makena

I've only really glazed over Makena's leap into the big girl realm. I would be remiss if I didn't give some more details which have been both heart wrenching and heart warming. It's quite timely given that all of her classmates just started kindergarten this week.

Makena turned 5 on April 27th. The cut off to start kindergarten prep is April 30th. In addition, the school year started in February here, so by the time Makena started they were almost exactly halfway through the year (less 2 days). So, she's one of the youngest, if not the youngest and she's half a year behind. It was quite difficult to decide what to do. If we waited to start her in prep next year she'd actually end up 18 months behind if we ever moved back to the U.S. Also, if she didn't go to prep she'd have to spend another year in pre-school kinder. Combined for her and Kessler, the cost would be around $3500 per month. Yes, really! Another drawback is she'd go to kinder for a year then switch schools again. That just seemed like too much change.

So, we decided to send her to prep. Worst case, if she didn't catch up we'd hold her back a year. Next year she'd be ahead of the game rather than just starting.

The zoning for the schools here isn't always enforced. We have the option to go to pretty much any school. There are probably 5 that are near our house (within 3 miles). There's one school that does enforce their zone--and we are in that zone. We heard a lot of great things about the school, but we heard a lot of great things about all the schools. We checked that one out and liked it. On a side note, that's when I had to bite the bullet and drive. We checked the school out in the morning then Mark had to go to work. The receptionist asked if I could get the paperwork back to her that day so Makena could start the next day, a Wednesday. So, for the first time ever, I sat myself on the right side of the car--behind the steering wheel and drove Mark to the train station as I pleaded with the kids to be quiet so I could think.

When I got home I started to fill out the paperwork. I came across one labeled "Christian Religious Education". The sheet had a long explanation about the importance of values. At the bottom we had the choice to agree to the 30 minute a week class, a Judaism or Greek Orthodox equivalent or opt out altogether. There was no explanation for the other 3 options--just the Christian option. Along with the clear implication that your child will lack values if they don't participate in the Christian program. The tone was very much dismissive of other religions but in a very underhanded way. Coming from a school system where there's clear separation of church and state I was taken aback by this. Over the course of my life I have come to believe that religion is a very personal decision, especially the interpretation of religion. My preference would be for both me and the kids to receive a religion education that delves into all the major religions--not just one. And that is fact/theory based rather than faith based. After speaking with Mark, we opted out.

I drove the packet back to the school--stressed as hell from having completed my 2nd driving adventure. A few minutes after turning in the packet the receptionist came up to me and said, you marked "opt out" for CRE. I said, "yes." She said, "I just want to make sure you know, Makena will be taken out of the class while the remainder of the class stays for the CRE. Do you want to reconsider? It really is a lovely program." Again, I was floored. I asked if could sit in one of the classes; she told me I could not. But, she could provide some literature. All I could think about is Makena being escorted out of the class while the other students sneered at her--pelting the heathen with wads of paper. I didn't feel any better about any of it given the the receptionist's response. So, feeling in-over-my-head, I deferred the issue Mark. He called the school and spoke with the principal. He arranged a meeting with the CRE teacher. I felt so unsettled by all of this I couldn't send Makena to school the next day. I looked into other schools but found this is a Victoria policy, not an individual school policy. So, we went to school and met the CRE teacher. She showed us the material that would be covered and while it was pretty innocuous we still felt like it just wasn't appropriate. We decided to stick with our original plan.

I felt better after making the decision. I felt even better after seeing how the kids treated Makena. She really is a little rock star. Kids will run up to her and nearly knock her over trying to give her a hug. Though, one day I did hear one kid singing, "William and Makena sitting in a tree...." and William (I assume) was shaking his head back and forth abruptly--trying to get the other kid to shut up. I left not really knowing how to feel about it--except worry for my little baby. She has no idea what this means--she didn't even hear it though she was standing right next to me. Hell, I'm not sure I know what it means. But, I know I'm not ready for it!!

Besides that little incident, all things were great for Makena at Brighton Primary. Me though, well I felt totally disconnected. I just wanted to go sit in class so I could know what's going on. There was no orientation so we were flying blind. I hate being unprepared and playing catch up. Things like the uniform stressed me out. The last time I dealt with a uniform was when I was in the military--and that was no joke. Ironing each night for an hour, shining boots. I still remember the uniform regulation that we had to adhere to, 34-10. "Airman, you better check your 34-10!" I don't remember my own birthday most years, but I can remember that reg--so that will give you a sense as to why my little 5 year old's uniform requirements were a bit daunting to me. And why I nearly lost my mind when Mark dressed in jeans one day. "She'll wear dirty pants before she wears jeans!!!" I said, still half asleep running from room to room in a panic--trying to remember where the washing machine was because near it would be the dirty clothes hamper.

(That was just a few weeks ago. At the time, I would stay up until about 4:00 a.m. trading then I'd sleep until 7:45 a.m. I'd get up in a dazed state and drive Mark to the train station and the kids to school. Then I'd come back home and sleep from about 10:00 until 2:00--at least I'd try. I was never sure which duties I was waking up to--pick up, drop off.. but there was always panic. That didn't work out so well as evidenced by my "she'll wear dirty pants...." tirade.)

Back to Makena.. we started to learn the ropes. Among Makena's routines are a "reader" every night. It's just a small easy book that Makena reads to us. Now, Makena has never "read" to us. We've always read to her. We were starting to fret--I mean, don't they learn how to read before they start reading? Well, no. Mark sat down with Makena and she read the book from cover to cover. She sounded out words and looked at pictures to figure out the context.. and she read it. It was amazing to see. Now she does it night after night and we are still amazed. In addition, she has "The Magic 100 Words" that she needs to learn. It was a week or two before we realized these existed. Most of the kids are onto the 4th or 5th set of the 100 words. Makena is now on her 3rd set, ready for her 4th. Miss Greenslade said that most kids take several weeks to get past the first set. So, Makena is doing really well. Jeez, I start to smile as I replay her little voice, "if, on, the, they..." Such a beautiful girl.

Incidentally, I started this post over a week ago. On Wednesday of last week I found a worksheet in Makena's school papers titled, "Thank you, God, for colors." (Ironic that color is spelled the American way.) I sent her teacher an email. Apparently she didn't get the "opt out" notice. She apologized profusely and promised to make sure that Makena didn't attend the session that day.

When I picked Makena up from school, I asked her if she was taken out of the class. She said yes, along with two of her classmates. I guess she got to play on the computer. I've since had conversations with a few of the class parents. The difference between the States and Australia is quite fascinating--but I'll save that for another post.

Much more importantly, everyday when I pick her up from school--she comes bouncing out, scanning all the mommy/daddy faces until she sees mine. Then she beams this cheeky little grin as she schleps to me, with the lean that comes with lugging a backpack that's half your size. She grabs my hand and we walk to the gate and across the crosswalk. She always asks me where I parked and gives me grief when I tell her it's far--creating memories I'll never forget.

76 Days

It's been 76 days since we arrived in Melbourne. I knew when we made the decision to do this that it would be hard. I haven't had a hard life by any stretch, but I have made a lot of hard decisions, like joining the military, moving across country and back and across again, changing careers.. having kids. So, I know that hard really means nothing without context. And, you have no context until you've had the experience. Now I know what hard is in the context of uprooting your family, your young family, and moving them halfway around the world and doing it in less than 5 weeks. Yep, it's hard.

It begins with utter exhaustion from your own jet lag, which is not the same as each of your child's jet lag which is not the same as your husband's jet lag. Then, there's the emotional and physical drain from everyone getting sick in parallel or taking turns, taking many turns. And then the worrying about how you'll take care of your basic needs like getting food when you have no car or finding a permanent place to live when you haven't a clue about... well, about anything. Then there are all of the decisions. Being decisive has never been one of my strong points. I'm tortured with practice around every corner. And, you must educate yourself before you can make a decision. Like--what's a "cap" for your cell mobile phone service? How much bandwidth do we need from our internet service provider? Which neighborhood, which school, which car? Of course, there's the driving--accepting that the wrong side of the road is now the right side. Resistance is futile, to say the least. You must cope with all of this hard with the constant madness of the dangling loose ends back in your former home. And then there's the mourning of all that you took for granted, like your friends and family, having two cars, your husband's flexible work schedule, having to only worry about one time zone in which to get things done.

The hardest of the hard is done now though. Makena and Kessler are in wonderful schools. Makena is treated like a celebrity, both because she's the new kid and because she's so small relative to the rest. They love looking after her. When we're walking across campus kids of all ages are saying, "Hi Makena!". At first she ignored them--assuming they couldn't be talking to her because she didn't know their names. Now she soaks it up--running off to play when a friend greets her at drop off, never looking back at her proud mommy. I feel a little cheated that I didn't get the full run up to her first day of kindergarten prep--but I'm so happy to see her happy.

Kessler loves his school as well. Apparently he's a hit with the little ladies in his class. He and some of his friends will end up in a fit of laughter that's contagious. His teacher says they laugh so hard they can't breathe. Kessler has the sweetest belly laugh. I can just picture him there giggling with his friends; it brings tears to my eyes.

It's amazing how much better things are when you know your kids are good.

Wound tight.

I have a million more posts to make.. but this story has to be told and it won't hurt that it's out of sequence.

I'm high strung--just wound a little bit tight. There are several drawbacks to this. The first of which is that I tend to way over think things. Things are much harder than they need to be in my world. For example, I haven't put gas in the car yet. Perhaps it's because they call it Petrol. Perhaps it's because some of the stations are full service and I'm unsure what to do. Perhaps it's because I don't know on which side of the car the gas tank resides. Perhaps it's because the gas pumps are so different.. no place to put your credit card. Perhaps it's because I'm not sure exactly how to use my debit card. (Every time you have to tell the cashier whether it's cash, check cheque, or savings. It is our checking account, but we have to tell them credit else it doesn't work. Then we have to tell them pin or sign).

Until today, I've only had cause to get gas once and I conveniently waited until Mark was in the car with me to drive to the station. But, today, the light was on. There was some indication of how much mileage (or is it kilometerage??) I have left, but I wasn't really sure what it meant for practical purposes. I don't have a good sense for kilometers yet. It's really too much to ask for me to contemplate that while still having to remind myself to stay on the left side of the road.

With all that on my mind, I pulled into the gas petrol station. I hopped out and opened the door to the backseat to retrieve my wallet from my purse. Of course it was on the other side so I had to crawl across to get it. I pulled out my debit card and swung around to grab the nozzle and SCREAMED! The gas attendant was standing right behind me. He scared the living hell of me. Another drawback of being high strung. I can say I was just a wee bit embarrassed.

There was more to move in day

...but the post was already too long and that was without many of the necessary details to really give you an idea about how horrible the day was.

I'll sum up the rest, but before I do I forgot to mention more about the car deal. On Monday, when we went back in and selected the Audi there was some necessary negotiating. Mark said to Bernard, "ok, so is there anything we can do about the price." (It's amazing the standard blank white paper, price written in large font, then crossed out strategy is used across both hemispheres.) Bernard wrote the price down on the top of the page, crossed it out then wrote a price that was 20% less beneath it. This was much less than we hoped to negotiate and less than the fair market value of the car. That was the easiest negotiating either of us has ever done. And, they wanted to keep the car the extra day while the financing was being worked out so they could replace the tires. I think Bernard scored a customer for life. Between him and Fiona, I'm not sure how we would have managed.

So, we had electricity. Life was definitely getting better. We still had no utensils, towels (bath/kitchen), pots/pans, bowls, plates, cups or anything similar. We did have toilet paper (thank goodness). We had no soap. Even as I write this 3 weeks later, I think, that doesn't seem too bad. But I remember the sheer anguish of trying to just get through the first day without any of the essentials. Banana bread was everywhere, yet there was no way to clean it up. There was no way to stop it from getting everywhere because we were digging in with our fingers to eat it. But, the beauty is.. I met Mark at the door when he got home at 6:30. I had to go check out our new wheels. When I came back to the front door I noticed a grocery bag on the doorstep--I had stepped over at least 3 times that day. What's this?, I wondered. Nothing more than yogurt (the squirtable kind), bananas and other wonderful food that Mark had brought the previous night. Since I didn't know it existed, I didn't know to look for it. Since Mark didn't know we only had the banana bread, he didn't know we didn't have it. All day we had all the great food at the door step!!!

I had to laugh.. but it was over now. We were in the house, the electricity was on, we had a car, Mark was home. I was happy.. for about an hour. We headed back to the apartment to make sure we didn't leave anything. I asked Mark what happened with the down payment for the car. In the haze of the I never coordinated with him about what to do. As I have mentioned over and over again, getting our money here has been extremely difficult. He said, Oh, I just paid for it with our debit card from back in the States. I felt like someone had just punched me in the stomach. First, I knew we didn't have that much in that account, so the account was definitely overdrawn. Second, I've been trying to get whatever money we do have in there sent here for weeks. So, now I'd have to send money BACK there to cover the deficit. AND, Mark gave that debit card number to the apartment manager to pay our rent for the last 10 days. What a nightmare. We did sort it out, but it wasn't easy. And, it wasn't Mark's fault--it's just the nature of having a million things going on at once and not being able to communicate every single detail, even the important ones.

While I was at the apartment grabbing the rest of our stuff and getting it tidy, Mark and the kids went to the supermarket to get food for dinner. Mark was so incredibly proud of himself because he had enough foresight to buy a bunch of frozen food so we could sustain ourselves for several days. He didn't mention this until we got back to the house and he headed toward the freezer... the freezer we don't have. I did mention this to him earlier, but he forgot. As much as I'd love to give him grief for this, it's not too unreasonable to assume you have a freezer in your fridge. We cooked as much of the food as we could--as if it would matter. We would have to throw it out cooked or thawed because we couldn't eat it all anyway.

At least we had yogurt and bananas the next day.

We have a house!

We finally have internet access at our new house. There's a lot of catching up to do!

I'm going to try to pick up where I left off. We went back into the Lexus dealership on Monday, the Queen's birthday. We had decided over the weekend not to lease a car, but buy a used car, a relatively cheap one. We decided on a used Audi station wagon. I must admit, I had little interest in the car selection process. It's just hard to get past the steering wheel misplacement. Since Monday was a public holiday the finance department wasn't open so we couldn't leave with the car. Bernard let us take his car again!

As of Tuesday (two weeks ago) we were still in the apartment. We were approved for the house but we had a few ends that needed to be tied up. We finally got our money situation sorted out, at least well enough to get into the house. I was so excited to have a place. It meant we could finally start to really settle into our new life. The Relocation company contacted various utility companies to get the process rolling. On Tuesday I had planned to get the apartment packed up. But, the floodgates had been opened with all of our utility connections. I spent most of the day on the phone giving the necessary information for power, gas, phone, internet, etc. Mark needed to go to the real estate office to sign the lease and we had to pay the first months rent along with the bond. That was a bit of a hassle because Mark was already planning on leaving work early to go to the dealership to pick up the car. Now he'd have to leave even earlier. I had to meet him at the real estate office because I had had half the money we needed. We agreed to meet at 4:00.

I needed to assemble our new stroller so I could make the trek to the train station. For the life of us we have no idea why we sold ALL of our strollers before we left California. We didn't really use them anymore, except for the jogging stroller. So, it kind of made sense to get rid of the rest, but not that one. The store had a choice of 2 apparent jogging strollers--one was over $700 and the other was $1400. We nearly choked. If there wasn't soooo much walking to do I would have opted not to get one, but we end up walking a few miles a day and that just isn't fair to the kids. And, we (Mark) plan to do some races so we'll need a good stroller for that. So, we bought the cheaper one. Unfortunately when I was putting it together I came across the big warning--not intended for running. Oh well. There doesn't seem to be a good reason why it can't be used as a jogging stroller. It does seem like they have better standards for strollers here.

So we headed to the train station. I had to wake the kids up from their nap--they had only been asleep for about 15 minutes. Kessler was really pissed and uncooperative. I had to convince him to stay in the stroller by holding his hand while I pushed the stroller. I was also balancing Mark's dry cleaning in a sophisticated white trash bag. I called Mark just after 4:00 to tell him we were running a little late. "You're not going to believe this", he said. "The bank closed at 4:00." He was right; I couldn't believe it. Mark headed to the real estate office to see if we had any options. The "I'm gonna do as little as I can to get by" receptionist said that we could pay with a credit card, but there would be a 3% fee. We were happy to have the option. She couldn't help us at that moment though because she had to go to the post office. And anyway, one of the property managers was at the property because a neighbor called to report the blaring house alarm. So.. we waited. When he and the receptionist returned Mark was down the street getting food for the kiddos. We did finally get it all squared away.

Next Mark needed to go to the dealership to get the car--only he didn't have his passport and they needed that to seal the deal. So, the kids and I rushed to the train station then schlepped up lovely Hampton Street back to the apartment. I scanned the passport and emailed it to the finance manager at the dealership. (I'm so glad we bought the printer/scanner!). Everything was good, except it wasn't! The external finance department wanted 10% down now. As you know, getting our money here has been difficult. (At the time of this writing, we still haven't received Mark's last 2 months worth of paychecks from the states). So, Bernard lent us another car for the evening so that we could move our 20 bags to the house.

At this point it was dark, late and cold. We scurried through the apartment attempting to pack as much as we could to take to the house. Mark hadn't seen it yet except for a few drive-bys a few days earlier. I was excited for him to see it and to see it again myself, without the owners' boxes everywhere. So, we pulled up to the gate and pressed the button on the remote. Nothing. Again. Nothing. Again. Nothing. So Mark got out to inspect the gate. Nothing. We decided to just use the pedestrian gate which is slightly less convenient but not impossible. It's pitch black--we fumbled with the 20 keys on the key chain until the front door finally opened. We searched for the light switch and turned it on. Nothing. The power had obviously been turned off. That doesn't really make sense since the owners were in it over the weekend.

Oh well, there's still a job to be done. We realized that there's a beeping sound that hadn't stopped since we opened the door. A few seconds later we heard the blare of the alarm. At the property manager's office earlier in the day he happened to mention that you press 1 to stop the alarm. That's exactly what it does. It stops the blaring alarm, but it doesn't disarm it. So, every 20 seconds the alarm sounded. We know how to make friends with our neighbors!!

We were all beyond exhausted at this point. Mark had to return the car to the dealership by 7:30 the next morning. We still had 2 more loads to bring over from the apartment. Mark dropped us off at the apartment and made one more trip. We needed cleaning supplies for the apartment as well so he had to add a trip to the supermarket on his to do list. It was 10:00 p.m. at this point.

I did a bit more packing and got the kids in bed then crashed myself. Mark finally turned up after his late night errands and he was finally able to sleep as well.

We decided that Mark would drop me and the kids off at the house on the way to the dealership--we'd take our last load then. I had to be there for the delivery of our new mattress between 8:00 and 9:00. It actually was kind of lining up well, in theory anyway.

We rushed to get everything unloaded because Mark had to drop the car off and get to work by 9:00. We still had no power and it was freezing!! I spent some time unpacking but my fingers were so numb I couldn't feel them anymore. Besides, every 20 seconds I had to turn off the alarm. The rest of the time I had the constant beeping reminder that I'd have to turn off the alarm in 19, 18, 17.. seconds.

Mark had bought a loaf of banana bread for us the night before. What a life saver. We dug in, literally. At about 7:45 I realized that I had no cash, cash I needed to pay the delivery driver! There are so many things that I have been desperate for the last several weeks--one was definitely our new bed. The mattress at the apartment was extremely hard; I woke up aching everyday. I called Mark as if he could do anything. He had returned the car and was on the train to the city. There was nothing I could do but hope that I could sweet talk the guy into letting me drop the money off the next day. They showed up promptly at 8:00. I delivered the bad news.. he was more than understanding. Looking back I realize how pathetic I must have looked. The house had hardly anything in it. I was freezing; still only in a T-shirt because I just hadn't gotten around to finding something else to wear. It was so cold you could see our breath inside; in fact it was colder inside than it was outside. Then there was the constant beeping and blaring of the alarm. He told me not worry about bringing the money to him; just put it under the mat and he'd pick it up on the weekend. Thank you!!! With relief I closed the door and attempted to lock it. Hmmm.. you need a key to lock the door from the inside. Okay, I retrieved my keys and locked the door.

I went back to the kitchen because we had brought some milk over from the apartment; I wanted to make sure it made it to the fridge. That's when I realized our fridge is just that; a fridge with no freezer. How is that possible? I also realized that we didn't have a dryer. It said in the lease that one was provided. So, I called my relocation specialist, Fiona.. wonderful Fiona, and had her add that to the list of rental furniture that we were having delivered later in the day. I noticed a binder on the counter in the middle of our stuff. It didn't look familiar. I decided to investigate. It contained everything you ever wanted to know about 5 Plunket Street.. but specifically, how to turn off the damn alarm!!!! YAY!!!

I entered the code and the beeping stopped!!

Now, the kids had been feral since we arrived at the house. They couldn't move from one point to another without running, jumping and screaming. At least it was keeping their body temperature up and it wasn't the slighted bit annoying on my frayed nerves. I was too cold to do anything else so I decided to make the bed and.. get in!!! We had bought linens over the weekend.. which included the dooner (queue evil music). A dooner is a pristine white blanket on which you must put a dooner cover. Which is like a big pillow case with buttons. Similar to a duvet, but doonerare extremely common here. I set out to put the dooner in its cover with the dexterity of a fence post, cursing non stop. Dooners were invented by the devil. After several minutes of wrestling with the bastard I was able to button it; mind you the corners of the dooner were no where near the corners of the cover.

I convinced the kids to get in bed with me. That lasted all of 6 seconds. They kept finding excuses to get out of the bed, letting all the warm air out from under the dooner. We went outside for a bit because it really was warmer out than in. Only, I had to find the keys to unlock the front door. I decided to leave them in the door, which was a good idea until I needed to get out the back door. We came back inside; I think at this point I made the startling discovery that all the door handles and light switches were nearly at my eye level. The kids can't reach them. I know this because I heard screaming from somewhere within the house. In a panic I raced to save them only to find them standing on their tippy toes trying to reach the door handle. I spent the better part of the day opening doors, closing doors, turning on lights, finding keys to unlock doors, wiping bums, lifting kids to wash their hands. Any bets on how many times I asked myself, "what the hell have you done moving here!??!"

It was time to eat. The banana bread was gone. All we had left was regular bread. The kids wanted nothing to do with this. I finally decided they'd eat if they were hungry enough. Then wonderful Fiona turned up with hot chocolate and pastries! I told you--she's amazing. We jabbered on and on and we started talking about the power. She was surprised it had been turned off. We talked through it a bit and I recalled being told by the power company that I needed to turn off the main power switch before the power could be transferred. When I spoke with the people that arranged all the utilities connections, they said not to bother. It occurred that maybe the property manager had turned off the main power. Then the light bulb went off. Just this past week Fiona had power issues and had to turn the main breaker off at her house. So, she knew it would be outside. I never would have guessed this. So, we headed out to find it. And wouldn't you know it the main switch was off. As soon as we flipped it the outside lights came on! We raced in to turn on the heater! Woohoo, we had heat!!

Fiona did a walk through of the house to make sure all the scuffs and scratches were noted on the move-in sheet. Then she was off. The furniture rental people came by to drop off the dryer, 2 twin beds, a sofa set and a desk. Things were looking up. But, we were starving. The kids finally ate the bread.

...to be continued.

So, let me tell you about our weekend...

Friday night Mark and I prioritized what we needed to do today. Saturday morning we woke up and realized we were all wrong. We need a bed, washer, dryer, linens, but we forgot about a car. So, we decided to head to the car dealership (car yard as the locals say) and get a car. There's a string of car dealerships right next to one of the train stops, so that part would be easy.

When we arrived at the train station, Mark bypassed the ticket buying machine. This is a capital offense in my book. You have to get your tickets ASAP because there's nothing worse than having the train come and go while you're still fumbling to get your money out of your pocket. It's a 20 minute wait for the next train. As I was trying to get the money out of my purse Mark called me over to the tracks to show me the men working up ahead. Damn. Then, over the intercom we hear the announcement that the tracks are being worked on--go catch the bus. We look up and see the men in orange jackets beckoning to us to go to the bus stop.

We waited about 15 minutes for the bus. Apparently when the trains go down, the buses go from train station to train station, unfortunately, we only knew our stop based on a visual from the train. I decided that Mark was capable of sorting it out until after a few stops Mark pops out of his seat and runs up to the driver. Then the driver promptly pulls the bus over. Mark responded, "no worries" and beckons to me that "this is us." And he was right; we quickly reached the string of dealership.

Over the last several days we've discussed how we will acquire a car. We decided we'll either buy used or lease a new one depending on the terms. We were burned with Mark's last car; it was worth far less than what we owed. My Landcruiser retained its value much better than Mark's BMW M3. It was disheartening. Anyway, we agreed to just start at one end and go to the other end until we find something reasonable.

The first dealership was Lexus. They apparently have good hybrids and since gas (petrol) is so expensive here it was worth checking. As Mark was talking with the girl at the front desk, this older, bald guy walked up to us. With an extremely thick French accent he told us that he had an appointment in about 10 minutes. He asked what we were driving to which we answered, the bus. He said, "Oh no, there will be none of that. You will take my car for the weekend." I was certain I misunderstood him, either way, we kind of want our own car. He gave us a brief rundown of how much it would cost to lease a new hybrid--much more than we wanted to spend. With a bit lost in translation we agreed to wait for him until he was done with his client. We checked out the used cars on the lot and played in a little kid area they had set up. He told us it would be about 40 minutes. He checked on us a few times and in about 40 minutes he was done.

He told us that he would like for us to make an appointment with him for Monday so he can have time to properly discuss our options. He insisted we take his car for the weekend. So, we did. He and Mark went to go pick it up. Then Mark drove to the apartment to get the car seats for the kids. Though, Bernard suggested that we could buckle the kids in the back seat and just drive carefully, if we wanted. I'm not sure if he could see my eyes bug out of my head, but he promptly said, "well, maybe not."

So, we used Bernard's Lexus all weekend. It felt a bit funny, but boy what a relief. We used it to drive to Southland mall; and what a mall it is!! We went to one of the department stores to buy a printer. We do have a decent printer coming across the sea with the rest of our stuff, but we've found not having a scanner/printer to be quite a pain--from wiring money, to signing leases, to doing my immigration paperwork, we are severely debilitated without one. Waiting 6 weeks for the rest of our stuff just isn't an option. Anyway, we couldn't find anyone to help in printer department so we moved to the washer/dryer task. Talk about daunting. The cheapest washer/dryers were about $600 each and they looked extremely cheap. The salesman said they were. Don't expect them to last more than a couple of years. The best ones are made in Germany, and they cost about $2000 each!!! Homes aren't typically built with a venting system so you have a range of ways to deal with that. We decided to push that task off as well.

The same sales guy helped us look at TVs. He took 20% off of a floor model that was already on sale. When he went to sign us up for delivery, Mark said, "can you throw in a DVD player for free." He laughed. When he was done he gave us the receipt--on which was a free DVD player.

We left feeling quite good. We headed to another computer store, but the printer selection was dismal. While I was at the restroom Mark took the kids for ice cream--no wonder he's the favorite. We decided that the first store did have the best selection of printers; Mark should just head there while the kids finish their cones. 20 minutes later he was back with the best printer they had. It was $498. Mark initially said no and agreed on the next model down, but they didn't have any in stock. The sales guy again pleaded his case as to why the $498 machine was the best. Apparently, the printer cartridges last an extremely long time--something like 28,000 pages. Insane. He said it would pay for itself in no time. Mark agreed but asked if that was his best price--he knocked the price down to $409!! Mark came out of the store beaming at the deal he just scored.

Next we headed to look for mattresses. An hour or so later, Mark received a phone call from the printer sales guy. He told Mark that he screwed up, the printer actually comes with an additional $100 rebate AND if we buy another set of printer cartridges, we'll get an additional $100 rebate on top of that! It was too late to make it back to the store before they shut so we went back today and got our rebates!! Best of all, we won't need to buy anymore ink until the kids are in college!!

Pretty exciting stuff! Though, I'll never be able to buy big ticket items by myself because I just don't know how to bargain!

What a great weekend though! And tomorrow is a public holiday for the Queen's birthday, so it's not even over!! :) The dealership visit should be interesting as we are feeling pretty indebted to Bernard. I'm sure that was what he was counting on, but it really made our lives a lot easier!!

Exactly

I was explaining to the kids for the trazillionth time how not to fight, scream, yell or otherwise interrupt mommy when she's on the phone. (This is particularly true because I have to concentrate when trying to decrypt what these Aussies are saying.) Anyway, as I was talking Kessler went over to the power outlet and started flipping the switch (they have switches to make the outlet hot). I immediately told him to never, ever do that. It's dangerous, even more dangerous than back in California. Makena asked if it "could make you dead". I confirmed. She said, "Just like onions, if you eat a bunch of them, right?" Exactly.

And then there's the fall out..

Our relocation specialist, Fiona has been absolutely amazing. I'd ask her to marry me too if I didn't think it would scare her away! Besides the fact that she's done exactly what we hired her to do--find us a place to live, she has done it with so much compassion and sensitivity as well.

It turns out that her and her family moved to San Francisco for her husband's work, then to Switzerland and back to Melbourne. She said it was so tough; she knew when her youngest of three boys was in school she'd find a job where she could help people relocate. I can't say enough positive things about her, but I'll sum it up with one great example. She took me house hunting on Tuesday; we found a great place. We were one of three applicants again--but while I was viewing the property the property manager came up to me with a big smile on his face and a framed picture in hand. He handed me a photo of a husky as he gleefully said, "The owners have 2 huskies!!!" Fiona had called ahead of time to chat him up to make sure we weren't turned down because of the Merlie-dog.

But, that's not the reason she's great. I just thought that was a funny story. The reason she's great is because we were scheduled to view more homes today which was obviously unnecessary. Rather than cancel our time together she came and got me and the kids and took us for coffee/lunch at a place with a playground. She's just so pleasant to talk with. It's soooo nice...

That had to be said.. now, on to the fallout. So, YAY! We have a place to live but we have to come up with several thousands of dollars to get into the place. We have money in a few different places in the states; this shouldn't be a problem. Well, our primary bank won't let us do a wire transfer unless we are physically there to fill out the form--convenient. The new online bank that we have will--so I transferred the money from Wells Fargo to Ally. Cool. I called to do the wire--not possible, I'm told. They don't have our signature cards on file. For no less than 5 days I carried around the signature cards--ready to mail them as soon as I could remember to do it. When the time came where we had to go to the post office before we left, I couldn't find them. Strike 1.

Our account is relatively new with them so we haven't used it. Our ATM cards haven't been activated and we don't have the PIN numbers. I called to activate the cards--not possible. I must call from the home phone. No worries, I'll change the home phone number in my profile to be my Skype number. That's not allowed because I have the mail being sent to my mom in Virgina and the zip code doesn't match the area code of my Skype number. I got them to manually change it. I called to activate them--not possible. I spoke to another customer service rep who desperately wanted to help, but he regretted to inform me that the original number entered when opening the account is the only number you can ever call from to activate the card. NO WAY! yes way. Strike 2.

But, there is a solution; just go to an ATM and request a balance printout. And you'll recall, we don't have PIN numbers. I called today to make sure the PINs were sent when I asked for them last week and of course, they weren't. So, I requested that they please expedite them. So, the plan would be that once we are able to activate the cards and use the PINs, we'll withdrawal our daily maximum each day until we reach the amount we need. Only, I'm not sure how long we can put off the property manager.

In the end, all I can say is--thank goodness for parents-in-law!!!!

Just in time..

This morning started off a little rough. I haven't been sleeping well to begin with, but Kessler woke up in the middle of the night. That's never good; it usually means it's going to be a sleepless night for all of us. I decided to just bite the bullet and sleep with him in his bed, his twin bed. It was as pleasant as you are imagining.

Anyway, both kids got up incredibly too early. I tried to convince them to let me sleep; that didn't work. I finally decided that my denial was not going to help matters and got up. They bickered much of the morning and Kessler decided to throw a shit fit when I asked him to take his pajamas off. After quite a bit of negotiating we were all dressed and out the door heading to a new park. The park was probably over a mile away. Both kids walked, without complaining! It was cold so we didn't stay long. We stopped at the supermarket about halfway home. We needed the essentials like milk and toilet paper. I also got some snacks, a clothes hamper and a 24 pack of AA batteries for the kids' Leapsters. I thought the clothes hamper was brilliant. Load it up with the stuff and we'd be golden for the walk home.

Well, you know how all the packaging in the states requires a blow torch or a chain saw to open, like the package for batteries? Imagine my surprise when the pack of batteries fell out of the hamper and all 24 batteries started to roll all over the supermarket floor. I stood there for several seconds in disbelief--this can't be!! First I was thinking, damn! This sucks! Then I was thinking, cool! No heavy equipment required to open the package when I get back to the apartment. The kids and I started scrambling to pick them up with the aide of an employee. We headed to the register to get the heck out of there. We left with an extremely full hamper!!

A few minutes into the final leg of our journey, the handle broke on the hamper. Sonofabitch. I gave the pack of toilet paper to Makena and the pack of paper towels to Kessler. I carried the milk in one hand and tried to hoist the hamper onto my hip for the rest of the walk. We had to have many breaks--specifically because the kids were trying to balance Juney and doggie on top of their respective paper products. That takes time, obviously. At our last break Kess tried to climb onto a chair outside a restaurant. He miscalculated and fell off onto the ground. It scared him far more than anything. I tried to console him, but at this point I desperately wanted to get home. The cold weather became quite hot and the jacket I was wearing was becoming a torture chamber. I couldn't hold his hand. Finally, I decided to take a few steps to see if he would come. He responded with a resounding HELL NO as he stood there screaming and stomping. I retreated, laying down my hamper full of sundries, toilet paper, paper towels (the kids had abandoned them) and the milk and attempted the consolation again.

It wasn't going well, at least not until an angel, dressed in an Nando's (some restaurant) uniform appeared offering the kids little gingerbread men. Kessler snatched up the treat but didn't skip a beat with the crying. The fellow said, "What's wrong, mate?" Kess said, "I felled down." "Oh no, mate. What did you hurt?" "My buuuuummmmm." "Aww, your bum, well why don't you give it a rub." Like a switch, Kessler started laughing. I nearly proposed to the Nando employee on the spot. What a catch after all, given how I obviously have my shit together--walking down Hampton Street with a broken hamper full of batteries and paper products trying to coax a crying 2 year old. He'd be a fool to decline!

It's only been a week..

Mark had to be in Australia so soon; we barely got the minimum done in order to pull it off. We have to sell 2 houses, sell 2 cars, find homes for 2 cats, get Merlin squared away to join us, sell 80% of our stuff, arrange for movers to come with no notice, sort through what we were going to throw away, give away, sell, take with us to survive for 3 months and send with the movers to arrive in 3 months, visit family back in Virginia. My passport was 5 months, 26 days away from expiring--4 days too many to travel on. Makena's American passport was to expire in June. She could travel on her Australian passport but because she's a minor, her American passport could not be renewed in a foreign country. Kessler needed his Australian passport; he could travel on his American passport, but he would have to leave the country and reenter on his Australian passport in order to stay in Australia. It wasn't pretty, but we did it.

We finally had a second to breathe once we got on the plane--if only we it had been relaxing because as soon as we landed it all started again, only on the flip side. We had a place to stay for 6 nights and Mark had a job which he started in 1 1/2 days. And, that was it. The hotel was great, but it was a hotel. Makena threw up every hour the first night. She is an amazing little girl because Mark and I were so exhausted we couldn't take care of her like we should. At times she got up and took herself to the bathroom and threw up on her own. Then went back to bed, without saying a word. The next day she woke up from her nap with a fever and an ear infection. We hauled the kids up hill several blocks to the doctor. Then there was the normal hotel stuff like having to round the kids up to get out of the room in hopes that it would be cleaned when we were gone. Sometimes that worked. Breakfast was $75-that's with the kids eating for free. We mistakenly did that once--then it was cereal in coffee cups for the remainder of the time.

I attempted to house hunt online, but quickly got discouraged knowing that in 4 days we'd have no place to live. By discouraged I mean Mark got "The Call". Actually, it was more of the pre "The Call"--an extra courtesy I've given Mark so he doesn't have to suffer through my wrath without plenty of warning. It went something like this, "Mark.." continuing with an extremely shaky voice, "I can't do this. Heed the warning." We had already hired the relocation specialist who is beyond amazing, but the clock was ticking. Last Thursday was our last night in the hotel. They held our 18 bags while the relo specialist took Mark, the kids and me on a desperate hunt for a semi-permanent house and short term accommodation. We bombed on the first front, but found a furnished apartment in a great little town called Hampton. Of course, when you have 18 bags you don't realize when a couple are missing, at least not for a few days. So, we carried ourselves back to the city to retrieve them, not that it's far, but I'm feeling dramatic at the moment. Lucky enough we were able to catch up with Mark's uncle, aunt and some cousins who just happened to be in town.

The immediate pressure is off now. Though, we really would like to be settled where we are going to be. I really want to get Makena in school and Kessler in preschool. I'd like to find a gym as well so I can burn off the 2 months worth of anxiety that has been accumulating. And I need to sort through the differences of things I've taken for granted--like limited cell phone data plans and internet service! It seems like we have so much left to do, and we do.. but it's only been a week!

There are Crows Everywhere.

We had an appointment to see an apartment in St. Kilda a few days ago. The unit was on the third floor of a building that resembled an American motel. One of the ways to get to the apartment was by way of an enclosed concrete stairwell.

We arrived ahead of the agent. We called the agents office to make sure we were in the right spot, so he knew we were waiting. A few minutes later we hear someone yell out, "Mauwwk, Mauwwk". Mark does nothing. Finally I responded. Mark looked at me and said.."Shit, he was calling my name. He sounded like a damn crow squawking. "

We were laying in bed laughing about it. Mark explained that there are 4 Marks at work, "there are crows everywhere." It cracks me up how accustomed he has become to the American R.

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Hotel

Here's the view from our hotel window. It overlooks a great 4 story indoor mall. I'd stay here forever if it were half the price and allowed dogs. Minor details, really.

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Droid

I'm obviously a cell phone whore as I've had 3 in 2 years. I went from my blackberry which I loved to the iPhone which I loved to the Droid which I'm trying to love. In my defense, the iPhone was a gift from Mark. Since our American phones won't work in Australia we had to get new ones anyway. I had planned on getting another iPhone, but CNET reviews, Mark, and the Telstra sales guy convinced me to get the Droid.

I like the physical feel of it better. It has a rubberish shell which creates more friction so it doesn't slip out of your hands so easily. It seems like it'll absorb a bit more shock if it's dropped, and unfortunately, it will be dropped.

It's open source so there will be oodles of apps, but some aren't out yet--like my favorite, Kindle. But it's apparently coming.

The screen has amazing resolution. I think I will love it as well once I get passed the learning curve.

And the reason I'm dedicating an entire blog post to my cell phone when I have a boatload of other stuff going on? Well I have been up since 3 am and I needed to find something to entertain myself that wouldn't wake the family. So, I found the Blogger app!

PS-They call them mobiles and message banks here, not cells and voicemail.

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The Whirlwind

Who knew a dental hygienist could be so influential?

On April 14th, I schlepped the kiddos to Makena's dental appointment. We love our dentist and his staff, for too many reasons to list. But the one that matters this time is everyone remembers us. Not just our names, but what we were last up to. So, the hygienist, Heather, asked about our trip to Australia this past February. I told her how great it was and that we were planning to move to Melbourne in the next year or two. She was excited for us. The conversation progressed to what will happen in a year or two that will send us on our way. I gave the same answer that Mark and I discussed--the economy turning around as well as Mark and I accomplishing somethings we set out to do.

Driving away from the office, I started thinking, why wait? I mean, will we be able to accomplish what we hope to accomplish in a year or two? The longer we wait, the more ingrained Makena will be in school. I could quickly see a year or two becoming three, four then never. Then I had the first "what if" moment. What if we did it now? Whatever we wanted to accomplish in the US we could do in Australia. After a solid 4 minutes of pondering the scenario I decided to pitch the idea to Mark. It really felt good.

I pounced on Mark as soon as he got home from work. His response was, "that's a fascinating idea." We tossed some ideas around and decided that Mark would start looking for a contract. Immediately he learned that the economy is going well in Australia. He found a few jobs that he thought were quite suitable. He interviewed for one and was offered the position--start date: 3 weeks! And the race was on. We sold 80% of our belongings, had offers on both houses, found a broker to sell both cars, renewed Makena's and my American passports, got Kessler an Australian passport. We weren't sure whether it would work out that I could or should come with Mark. The permanent residency visa takes 4-6 months to process. There was talk from immigration that I could not travel to Australia on a visitor visa with a permanent residency visa already lodged. But an immigration attorney suggested that I travel with Mark and the kids, then apply for permanent residency a few weeks after arrival. So, that's what we decided to do--which meant I didn't have any extra time to tie up any loose ends!

So, here we are. We arrived Saturday; Mark started his first day of work today. I'm trying to find us some short term accommodation so we can move out of the hotel, which is wonderful by the way. It's right in the middle of downtown Melbourne. I can't describe it. I love this city, but I'll have more on that later!

Happy Birthday, Mommy.

Before school on Friday, Makena let Mark know that she wanted to surprise me for my birthday. When they got home after school they went quietly into the kitchen and hid. When I came downstairs, they jumped from behind the counter and yelled "Surprise!" :)

Makena told me about the card she made for me; the one that daddy left at school. She proudly delivered it today:

Cutie Pies

Here are the school photos for March. I was late bringing them in that day, so the teacher took them straight back when we got there. I hadn't filled out the form for the pictures yet (surprise, surprise) so she had me come with. It's always so sweet to watch your kids when you're not supposed to be there! Every time Kessler laughed, he covered his mouth. Every time Makena laughed, she bent over. They must have taken 20 pictures each.

Facebook killed my blog.

Facebook is only partly to blame. But, I'm mad at it at the moment so it's going to carry the brunt. Another culprit is my trading--that's probably more to blame than anything, but I can't be mad at it because you don't bite the hand that feeds you, someday. Any day? The other blog inhibitor is my sanity. Blogging used to be my therapy for the tough mommy days. Those days are much less frequent so therapy 5 times a week isn't necessary. Shew!

But, I know I'm going to regret not keeping a journal of the stories. There have been a few. Just the little things that make me smile just thinking about them.

I'll start with our trip to Australia in February for Julie and Ken's wedding. The trip there was quite noteworthy--4 flights, 36 hours! The kids were extremely tired. Kessler cried nearly the entire time from Brisbane to Melbourne, until the wheels hit the ground and he was out! I carried him through Melbourne airport, which was no small accomplishment. I'm glad I did though, for two reasons. The first of which is Kessler is getting so big. The days of carrying him are numbered. And secondly, it made me love the people of Melbourne. At least 5 people offered to help and countless others made some sort of endearing comment as they were passing by. It was quite sweet. I truly love the United States, but it makes me sad that these simple exchanges with strangers are gone.

Much of the rest of the trip was a blur because of jet lag and the fallout from trying to trade while there. There are a few things I do remember. The first is what an absolutely stunning bride Julie made. Not that I expected anything different, but she looked as if she stepped off the cover of a bridal magazine. Her dress was gorgeous!

The other thing I remember is the night before the wedding. Ken and Julie treated everyone to dinner. We were trying to get Kessler dressed. We pulled out his adorable little linen, long sleeve oxford shirt. He started crying as soon as he realized it was headed toward him! "No, I don't want to wear daddy's shirt!! I want to wear a baby shirt!!" Somehow, we won this battle, which still amazes me. Come to think of it, maybe we didn't win as I seem to remember Kessler being pretty cranky the rest of the evening.

Makena, on the other hand, loved getting dressed up! Lucky enough, she was able to do it again the next day. She and cousins, Phoebe and Ruby had the cutest little dresses. They looked like little princesses. Now, Makena is fascinated by weddings. She wanted to know if she could marry Kessler. She asked if we could go ask our neighbors if they would like to marry her. She finally gave up on mom and dad making the arrangements. One day last week when I came to pick her up, Ms. Danielle explained that she was in the middle of a ceremony. She pointed to the corner where Makena and Dillan were both playing in fancy costume dresses and high heels!! They had just gotten married! Apparently they have gotten remarried nearly everyday since!

Ballets have become popular lately as well. Shortly after getting back from Australia, Makena asked if she could put on her wedding dress to go to the ballet. As I was getting the dress, Kessler started asking for his ballet clothes. In the midst, the phone rang. A few minutes later, the kids started down the stairs, holding hands. Makena was wearing her dress over her clothes and Kessler was wearing "daddy's shirt" and underwear. It was so amazingly sweet.

I had planned on writing more, but I don't want to hurt myself as I attempt to reenter the world of blogging!

"Kessler peed in the bath tub"

Makena and Kessler were taking their nightly bath while Mark and I were perusing wedding videos. Watching people forsake the formalities of their wedding to dance like fools, makes me laugh.

So, anyway, Mark diligently responded to Makena's call for help. "Kessler, did you pee in the bath?" "No, I peed on Makena." Kessler was relieved to have cleared up the confusion.

Happy New Year everyone!!