The clock was slow.

I never really liked that clock; all white and plastic-y looking.  The mobile phone is my timekeeper so I don’t rely on the plastic wall clock.  Well, not usually.

I was surprisingly organized on the morning in question. My husband had left a little later than his usual 6:30am departure time and so was able to take the older two girls to their before school music practice.  This only happened once before this year, and it takes off so much pressure when he can help me in this way, as I don’t need to be at school with four ready children by 7:30am.  So I was left with the younger two at home for another hour before I had to leave.

“It’s time to go, I said to the kids,” glancing up at the plastic-y kitchen clock moments before. Then I picked up my phone on the way out the door and realised it was, in fact, 10 minutes later than I expected.  RUSH!

Pulling into the school, I parked close to my son’s prep class, which starts a little later than the older grades, so we arrived just in time.  I still had my grade 2 daughter to drop off.  Only one late out of the four; could have been worse, all things considered.

“I have sport today,” Miss 7 said after we had said goodbye to her brother. She continued,  “And they go straight away in the morning. When the oval is wet [which it was] it’s sometimes in the hall.”

“Sorry love, my mistake.  We’ll sign in late at the office, and then I’ll help you find your class.”

It was a lovely snippet of time: her hand in mine as we walked through the school to the office first, and then to her classroom to drop off her bag. Having a largish family means I relish any one-on-one time.  I noticed a school staff member with 5 other children from the class who were also late.

“This is one of my best friends.” Miss 7 introduced me to one of the girls.

I greeted her back.

Together we walked to where the rest of the class would be.  I was a few meters ahead of the children and overheard the conversation behind me as Miss 7 chatted to her friend. They held hands.

“That’s my Mum,” She said by way of explanation.   “She’s r-e-a-l-l-y nice and always pretty. She’s pretty on the inside and the outside.”

I’m smiling right now as I recall it.   They are words I want to treasure and so I write them here. So I can remember.  When I feel discouraged on this journey, as I do keenly right now, I shall remember how this little girl of mine described me to her friend, despite my failings.  I aspire to be worthy of the faith she has in me.  There’s beauty in that.

Guest post by Matthew Burstow

Redballoon Review — The Workshops Rail Museum Tour

The count down was on in earnest!  Every day in the week leading up to our trip to The Workshops Railway Museum, my son would remind me how many sleeps to go.  We talked about everything and nothing in the hour or so it took to get there.  For a train loving father and son there aren’t too many better places to spend the day!

We arrived at the gate at 9:30, spot on opening time, and we were the first ones in.  The massive Workshops building is fronted by 2 large steam locomotives, as soon as we were through the gates my son was off.  We have been to the museum a few times before but for the first half an hour I struggled to keep up as my son raced excitedly from one display to another.  We climbed on steam engines, ‘drove’ diesels and followed the trains around the massive model layout.

After our first run through, son and I visited the merchandise shop, and he began looking at the toy trains and whistles excitedly.  You can just imagine his delight when one of the shop attendants informed him that he could have THREE items from a selection (they were all part of the tour package)!

By then it was 11:30, time for the tours to start; this was definitely my highlight. The first was the steam shop tour, a walk around the engine and rollingstock sheds behind the museum.  Here there were steam engines in various states of repair and maintenance including the 30m long Beyer-Garratt 1009, the largest steam locomotive to run in Queensland.  From there the tour moved to the Blacksmiths shop where the skills of the blacksmith’s was shown in some live demonstrations.

Son and I were quite tuckered out by this stage, fortunately we had a lunch voucher for $20 each to spend (again part of the package) at the Trackside café, there was a wide selection and we enjoyed ‘tanking up.’

After lunch we went through the museum again from top to bottom.  Son played on the ‘Nippers railway’ for almost an hour before he was ready to go.  On the way home my little man slept, exhausted; we had had a great time together.  The Red Balloon voucher made the day quite effortless, and very special for my son.

Reader Offer

If you love experience gifts, below is a special offer.

Offer: Spend $129 or more on any RedBalloon experience, and receive $30 off.

To redeem:  Visit www.redballoon.com.au and enter the promotional code (REDMUM01) at the checkout to receive your discount.

Code: REDMUM01

Terms and Conditions: 1.Offer valid until 31/12/13. 2. Promotional Code can only be used once per person. 3. All purchases are subject to Red Balloon T&Cs.

Discloure

I was not paid to write this post.  RedBalloon provides complimentary experiences for me to enjoy. All views are my own.

The pink suitcase became my mascot for this trip.

“It’s like a shop!” my son said as I packed — excited by the sheer number of toothbrushes in one place.

Life is settling back into normality here at home after the Mother’s Day Laos Cycle Challenge for Save the Children.  However, memories of the trip stick in my mind; these sort of experiences change you. My mind keeps going back to how excited the Laos children were to receive toothbrushes on the day we visited a rural school. Their happy smiling faces; eyes full of light.

The children had never used a toothbrush before and so I did an impromptu lesson on how to brush teeth.  It reminded me of how much I take for granted  with my own children.

To celebrate the trip, I created a short video with a snap shot of cycling through Laos and meeting the children. I go back and watch the video often, just to see the happy bright faces again.  You can still sponsor me here.  The money raised will go towards building another life-saving clinic in Laos just like this one.

My pink suitcase didn’t come home with me. It would have made sense to unpack it and bring it home again but it felt right to leave it there in Laos.  I don’t know where it will end up, but it makes me feel good to know that it is there…somewhere.

More Posts from Laos

A (long) Cycle

A Girl With 150 Toothbrushes

A Mud Map

A Skyline

A Grounding Word

A (Very) Clean Floor

A Pink Suitcase

I don’t care about trends.   I enjoy to wear a mish-mash of what I like — old mixed with new — inspired by colours, shades and influences in my life; whether that be the seasons, nature, a book, movie or particular time period.  I dress up most days — it’s one of those things for me, that is an expression of creativity — and I figure clothes are there to wear so I may as well enjoy them rather than keeping a particular outfit special.

A new pair of boots was on the list this year.  My knee-high black boots are still good, but my brown boots broke at the end of last season and I have been looking for a replacement pair. Here they are! I’m welcoming a new item in my wardrobe this Winter: Bared burgundy boots.

I was umming and ahhing over brown boots but then these burgundy boots caught my eye and I couldn’t go past them.  And I’m so glad I went with my gut because the shoes are have resurrected my wardrobe; they have become a key piece, pulling much of my Winter wardrobe together (two outfits are pictured below).

I found out about Bared shoes when they emailed me recently. I’ll warn you now, BEFORE you go check out the website: the shoes are really (REALLY) gorgeous. Anna Baird, a podiatrist, designed the range with style, comfort and support in mind. Each shoe comes with footbed features to support the foot (you can read more about the features here).  They look great and are good for your feet too.

Wearing Bared shoes feels different than any other shoes I’ve worn before. Not only are the shoes deliciously comfortable, they hold my feet in unique way.  So for example, I noticed in the boots I’m wearing (with heels), when I walk, my weight is supported through my heel (instead of the ball of my foot when I usually wear heels) and the impact is absorbed by the shoe.  I don’t know if that makes any sense, but it really is a fascinating thing for a shoe lover like myself and I’m an immediate fan.

Outfit 1

My husband took these pictures and he kept making me laugh (so much I almost fell over).

Dress: Emerson (Big W)

Jacket: Monaco Jeans

Boots: Bared

The look: I was inspired by the colours: rich blue with subtle green and highlights of burgundy.  The cute polka dot dress has smackings of retro/vintage charm, and wearing the scarf short added to this.  The jacket with frill detail is feminine enough to match but edgy enough to bring balance and interest to the outfit (or so I think).

Outfit 2

I’m not as tall as I look in this picture. Ha! There’s a tip for you.  If you photograph from the ground up, it elongates your legs.

Shirt:URBBANA

Jeans:Calvin Klein

Boots:Bared

Cream Trench Coat: True North

Necklace:Liselle

The look: Classic. Love the simplicity of a nice shirt and a pair of jeans. Can’t go wrong.

Disclosure

I wasn’t paid for this post.  Bared gave me a complimentary pair of shoes (my choice), and I wanted to feature them here because they are awesome — and I love supporting Aussie designers.

The sound in the kitchen woke me from my too-short slumber. It wasn’t a happy sound.  Morning. Already?

“You made me spill the milk!”

“You pushed me!”

“I didn’t mean to.”

The 7-year-old and 5-year-old were up early getting breakfast.   Which is usual.

The arguing continued in a ridiculous manner and I felt annoyance with an edge of anger wash over me as I pushed myself from the warm bed. These two usually get on well, but at the moment, they constantly clash, and I feel weary of it.   I need to give the situation some thought. Or time.

I followed the noise of two children squabbling to the kitchen to find cereal over the bench and a trickle of milk splashing on the floor.

“STOP IT!” My first words of the morning.

More words.

“Clean it up. Get your breakfast. Sit at the table. Be quiet. Eat. Build a bridge. MOVE. ON. Now. Go!”

It wasn’t a well thought out reaction. All I could seem to manage, after being woken in such a fashion, was a string of barked words. I wasn’t interested in sorting out the problem, facilitating a peaceful resolution or waiting until they thrashed it out. I just wanted it to stop. It was a response from a tired mum wanting some morning peace.  Or at the very least, a cup of tea before a battle.

From that moment, I felt like I was tripping over myself.  The usual morning rush had an extra strain and I felt my world crowd in around me.  You know those times when you feel like everything is not-good and you’re doing everything wrong? And even though you know it’s not as bad as it seems, you still feel it? That.

“Get in the car!”

With my toothbrush in hand, I called out to the children 5 minutes before leaving time.  The usual process is this: the children get their bags, hats and anything else needed for the day, like instruments, and head out to the garage.  The older two help the younger children, and by the time I get to the car, they are all waiting.  I check seat belts and we go.

Locking the back door behind me, I walked through the patio to the car. I noticed a single sock on the grey tiles and sighed.  It was sitting there, in all its soggy, dirty, lonely glory — mocking me.

All was quiet when I reached the car.

I put my key to the ignition when something made me stop.

Incredibly sweet voices in perfectly timed union echoed through the car.

“G-o-o-d   m-o-r-n-i-n-g   M-u-m!”

How can I describe it? Like surfacing from underwater — as the water parts and falls away, caressing the circumference of your face to give way to the delicious kiss of cool air — so too I felt the heaviness of the morning troubles roll off my shoulders in a moment as a smile flooded my body and ended on my face.

Thank you God for sweet moments like this, yes?  These moments always take me by surprise — never to be taken from granted — and they make me wonder how a mother with so many flaws can have the love — such genuine love — of such interesting, frustrating, beautiful children.

“Good morning!”  I responded.  The lightness in my voice reflected my smile.  It may have been the first kind word I spoke for the day.

I can’t remember which of the children started it but on the drive to school, they all, in turn, shared something they were looking forward to for the day.  I listened in astonished delight.

This interaction with the children changed the course of my entire day. It reminded me of two things: one is that sometimes, it only takes a kind word to brighten someone’s day; and two: amongst the clouds, there is always a glimmer of light, and when it comes, celebrate it with jig-worthy joy, because there is more truth in the external silent beams that shine from somewhere beautiful, than the hazy whispers of doubt in your head.

An idea for a rainy day: use cookie cutter shapes as stencils for drawing.