reconnecting

The husband turned forty back in March - toward the beginning of the horrible solo parenting marathon that brought me to my knees. What a joyous time.

Anyway..

I've said it before, he's the don't make a fuss birthday guy {eye roll}. I don't understand it, so I just ignore his silly requests. I wanted to throw him an intimate, thai inspired, backyard dinner with low tables and cushions under a marquee with his closest friends.. of course that was quashed and the day came and went with much normalcy (outside of the big bunch of helium balloons and decorations the kids and I made).

He was deep into a shitty patch of work and it turned out we thought we would have to sing happy birthday and have his cake for breakfast the morning of his birthday, because we wouldn't see him for the rest of the day. Now I don't mind eating cake for breakfast one little bit, but it felt pretty sad that we were going to be apart for the whole day with no evening celebration. We had a special dinner the night before, just in case, and were delighted when he managed to make it home on his birthday for a whole hour to inhale homemade pizzas and eat cheesecake. Who cares if it was 4.30 in the afternoon. Hurrah!

I knew my parents were going to be in town in May and took my cue to request their expertise for an overnight babysitting stint, of which they happily obliged. Our FIRST night away from the kids since becoming parents six and a half years ago! Sad but true. A belated birthday gift for the man who doesn't want any fuss.

There was much (work related) drama to actually get him there - something that was MEANT to be a surprise but had to end up telling him about the morning of.. can you tell I have a hate/hate relationship with his job? There was anger and tears and something along the lines of why can't we be like normal people and spend a night away from our children once in a blue moon with zero drama attached?? WHHHYYYYYY?

Once the drama was behind us and we made our way into the city, I breathed out all those shitty feelings about my plans having crumbled and time having been lost because of his bloody job.. and all was fine. Night fell and the city lit up. It was a strangely balmy autumn evening, perfect for strolling the streets and laneways hand in hand, and walking the banks of the river. We ate dinner leisurely, and talked about things that had been put on the back burner for so long. We joined the crowds on the streets and bridges, heading to and from drinks, dinners, plays, musicals, celebrations.. feeling as though we had stepped into another world - far away from the one we knew. Just for a night.

Just being together with no interruptions, even when there were moments with no conversation, was so rejuvenating. Taking time to look at each other properly, and really listen to and engage in a conversation with full attention was just so wonderful. Plans were made and focus shifted and somehow things felt clearer without three little voices pulling our attention away. Even when there were no issues with our relationship prior to our little getaway (apart from not having seen each other much) it still brought us closer together. We both felt it, without having to say it.

When was the last time you spent a night away from the kids with your love? I will absolutely, positively not wait another six and a half years before we do it again, that's for sure!

In the spirit of all things lovey dovey, I mentioned this song last week, but he's made it official in the studio and now you can buy it on iTunes. Seriously, it's better than the original (sorry Bey Bey). Give me a musician and a deep, silky voice any day and I'm there. Baby, love me lights out..

baby love / a maternity series

My baby sister and brother-in-law made a baby. Hurrah!

I'm forcing her to let me document her journey into motherhood. The first instalment of BABY LOVE, a monthly maternity series documenting mother and baby's journey toward birth, can be seen here. You can see the full collection of stills and words over on my other blog.

Music in Vimeo clip / Sarah Humphreys / Looking for a Face

a whole decade

Yesterday marked a whole decade spent with the husband. In a little over a month we will have been married for eight years. We don't celebrate the getting together anniversary, but as I was filling out the calendar for this month, it dawned on me that it was a more significant date than other years because we had reached double digits. Ten years seemed like such a long time. But short too. TEN YEARS. I remember events and memories that occurred before we were together and they don't feel like they happened over a decade ago. Suddenly, the tick of the clock feels louder. Father Time, I thought it was already loud enough, thankyou very much.

The day began woefully. Grumpy children, equally grumpy mother, chasing, yelling, scrambling for school drop off. I am positive Missy was a snail in a former life. I was broken in less than an hour after getting out of bed. Hubby has been working late nights this week on site so have been afforded his help in the mornings while he catches up on sleep and is able to hang around at home a little longer.

I dropped Ruby at school and headed for the shops to run a handful of errands, alone. I headed straight for the familiar, friendly face of my coffee lady. Whose name I don't know but we always share a warm chat and I never have to actually order because she begins at the machine as soon as she sees me. I always feel better after seeing her. Not only because she is handing me my drug, that will lift my morning instantly, but because she is such a genuinely lovely soul. When she asks how I am, she is asking because she really wants to know. She asks with full eye contact. She waits for my answer. I always tell her the truth. She peeks over the counter on her tippy toes to check for the boys, and agrees we all need some time out - even if only for barely an hour, even if only to restock the nappies, milk and fruit bowl. She punches my coffee card twice. She bids me farewell and wishes me a lovely day - until next time, my friend.

That lonely hour was all I needed yesterday. To turn my foul mood and loud head into a quieter, clearer place. The handful of jobs were done. It was freezing out, and we didn't have to be anywhere until school pick up. We did some washing, made playdough, baked a cake, made soup, zucchini and chorizo slice, the best sweet potato mash I've ever made, and cooked some rice ready for sushi rolling for school this morning. None of that would have happened if I didn't have that little time out earlier in the day. I would have continued to be horribly foul and gone round in circles all day long.

Kids were in bed easily, I sat down for The Block. I kissed the husband goodbye again as he headed out to finish this week's job until the wee hours of this morning. It was only after he left that I remembered our little milestone.

Shamefully, I got stuck watching Formal Wars while waiting for Bridesmaids to come on the box. I hoped to God I was shaping my daughter in a way that would see her senior school formal focussed on an awesome party with her friends, celebrating their youth and some of the best years of her life, rather than crying over the fact that her breasts won't be falling out of her dress enough or that her shoes are only three inches high instead of six. Mostly, I was just grateful she's five.

Even though I went to bed alone last night - not ideal for any anniversary (whether celebrated or not) - I still went to bed happy. Hubby was there when I needed him to allow me a little time for myself, to shake my foul mood and be a better mother to our children for the remainder of the day. To turn what would have been a completely useless day into a really productive one. It seems like such a tiny thing, but in the scheme of things - the daily grind of routine with smalls - it's those little things we must grab hold of.

I don't take time out enough for myself. Not nearly enough. It would be made easier if we lived near my parents, of that I am sure. One day it will be real. It really will.

Do you take enough time for yourself? How long have you and hubby/partner been together?

v day

Do you celebrate Valentine's Day? One of those that make today the most sickly romantic day of the year? It seems quite normal - a regular behaviour for such a day. It barely registers on my calendar. It serves to remind me that my brother in law's birthday is the day before, and that two years ago, I was praying that Eliot did not choose such a date to make his grand entrance into this world. Thankfully he decided the sixteenth would be a far better date to declare his birthday. Thankyou my little love.

My husband used to be more romantic. In those first years we were together. Which is pretty normal I think. Seven years into married life, and nine together in total, the definition of romance has changed somewhat and V Day is non existent for us. Occasionally he will surprise me with a bunch of flowers or a card, but I never expect anything. And neither does he. And I'm totally okay with that. I find the day a little strange to be honest. All the heart shaped confectionary and singing stuffed toys. Plenty may feel differently, but I don't need to be showered with flowers or chocolates or a fancy dinner for him to show me he loves me - or vice versa. We show and tell each other every day that our love is strong. Hubby is a quiet soul. He really only speaks if it's absolutely necessary. And even when it is absolutely necessary - he may still say nothing. He prefers useful action, to words.

If he has really busy weeks at work where he knows he will miss bedtime routine, and being able to spend time with the kids before they go to bed, he will do tasks and chores around home in the morning that will make my life easier at the end of the day, so that the evening schedule can run as smoothly as possible with one man down. Once dinner is done, my day of kitchen duty is officially over. He is chief cleaner and dishwasher stacker, restoring order swiftly and routinely. It seems he is forever folding and sorting washing. When I have thrown the towel in for the day, unable to move from the couch, he can be found in the other lounge room, folding and sorting clean clothes into piles to be put away while he watches the tele. I tell him it can wait till morning - he never listens. He says once it's done, it's done. If he goes to the shop on the way home from work, or after the kids are in bed, he returns with a chocolate surprise. He changes the sheets every Sunday morning. He is in charge of the vacuuming. He has a system as finely tuned as his evening Operation Clean Kitchen. He does the washing without being asked. Some weekends he is the only one near the washing machine. Weekdays, he will wait in the mornings to hang it out, before he heads to work because he knows it will be one less thing on my to-do-list for the day. He will bust his arse at work on a Tuesday so that he can leave early to take Ruby to her dance class.

Hubby comes from quite a conservative family when it comes to open affection. Which is perhaps why he is the complete opposite in his adulthood. He has always been open with public displays of affection and craves touch to feel loved. The PDAs do not extend to sending beautiful big bunches of flowers to my workplace (pre kids of course) to declare his undying love. However, he did propose on the top of the Summit at Mt Buller in front of quite a number of strangers.

I'll take my dish washing, clothes sorting, bed making hubby over a flower and chocolate giving one, any day.

photo by Tim

seven

Thankyou for seven sweet years of marriage, my love xx

captured {episode one}

Tim is everything people say he is. Warm, inviting, interesting, honest, unique. He tells everyone this with his photography. And then the families who invite him into their homes confirm it. He makes you feel like you have met before. I don't know whether this comes naturally to him, or whether he has just become really good at it since travelling to every corner of this beautiful country in the past year, knocking on the doors of strangers to take their picture. I suspect it is the former. The only thing that didn't match real Tim to internet Tim (in my head), was his voice. I thought it would be really deep. Not Barry White deep. But deeper than average. I have no idea why? I assure you he sounds like a manly man. I should stop typing.

Deep voices aside, Tim fits right in. Without effort, it would seem. He chats easily, joins in with any topic of conversation, is happy to talk about his family, his childhood, one of his (many!) twin sisters who looks remarkably like my little sister, his photography wisdom, his advice. And, of course, his beautiful wife Kesh, and their baby. He moves seamlessly, snapping here and there, never in a rush. Never in a rush to get the shot. And yet he manages to be everywhere and snap everything. He was always destined to be behind the lens. Being invited into strangers' homes. To capture the normal, the everyday, the dynamic, the rhythm, the love.

And he captured ours.

*I decided to split these beautiful images into two posts to give them the respect and justice they deserve. All the outdoor images will become episode two. Soon.