A Weekend to Remember

As my move date draws near, my social calendar is quickly filling up. I am trying to spend as much time with my family and friends as I can. The highlight so far has been my girls weekend away to Scandanive Spa in Blue Mountain. What I thought was going to be a day at the spa with my best friend Jennifer turned out to be a surprise weekend away with all my close girlfriends. I have known these girls for almost 20 years, our earlier friendship consisted of late nights, and sometimes early mornings in the club scene of downtown Toronto, seems so far from where we are today. Since then we have lived together, shared each others joy in new relationships, careers, engagements, weddings and children. Being with them is so very comfortable and this weekend had us feeling like we were all 20 again. Not a care in the world just a bunch of girls hanging out. We enjoyed a relaxing day together, shared an amazing dinner and then danced all night! There were a lot of laughs and also a few tears shed. It is so hard to imagine my life without these amazing women. I know that we will keep in touch through e-mail and facebook but I will miss our monthly dinners, birthday celebrations, camping trips and annual Christmas party. I can't even put into words how much their friendship means to me.
Here are a few of my favourite photos from the weekend, some are too incriminating to share so I will only post the "appropriate" ones.


Road Trip!

The hot pools.

Ready for our massages.

I had this smile on my face all weekend.

Relaxing by the fire.

Ready for a night out.

There were many of these.

As well as many blurry photos like these.

This was indeed a weekend to remember.

It doesn't take long to fall in love.

The past few weeks have been filled with the most life altering news, all that we had been wishing for was finally happening, my Australian Immigration was approved followed the next day by the sale of our house.
The most unexpected joy came as a bit of surprise, a positive pregnancy test. How quickly it all seemed to fall into place, we had been trying for a 3rd baby for over a year. To finally get pregnant just as we are preparing to move to Australia confirmed my lifelong belief that everything happens for a reason, it all works out in the end.
But not this time.
I had 4 whole days to feel the joy of an expanding family, I eagerly downloaded the baby center app on my phone, I checked the due date, December 25th, the best gift I could imagine, I consulted the Chinese gender predictors, a girl, I shared the news with my family, all were overjoyed. I told my sister that her new baby girl due in July would soon have a playmate. For 4 days I envisioned the gentle moments I would catch my boys in with their new sibling and I imagined the comfort of having a baby in my arms again.
4 days was all I got, because at exactly 5 weeks pregnant I miscarried. It was so early, and according to my app the baby was the size of a sesame seed, but those 4 days felt like a lifetime, I envisioned this baby born, nurtured, loved and become part of my family.
I've read so many stories on miscarriage, always trying my best to empathize with those sharing their story, never could I imagine the pain it would bring, true gut wrenching sadness. I find myself struggling to justify feeling so overwhelmingly distraught because it was so early. There are so many others who have had weeks, and months of bonding with their baby only to tragically lose them.
Mine didn't even have a heart beat yet, but it had already filled my heart.

A new start to come

It seems like ages ago, but in the summer of 2009 my husband and I decided that it was time to move back to Australia, we wanted to surround our children with a family much larger than what they have here. 2 years later after many ups and downs, here we are with a sold sticker on our For Sale sign. We are getting ready to pack our bags and head to the other side of the world. Emotions are high, the past few weeks have thrown us a few curve balls but I am feeling so hopeful. I have a renewed sense of life, the chance to start over, a chance that not many of us get. I am happy with all the wonderful blessings in my life, but I am going to start fresh. I am going to take better care of myself, be smarter with my finances, get more exercise, get out with the kids, make time for my husband, travel, explore, sing, row, swim, create, laugh and love.
What better way to celebrate all the new things to come than with a gorgeous blog re-vamp.

So my friends, are you ready to come on this journey with me?

A life story, a story of love.

I have a story to share, about the man who was my father. On the 2nd anniversary of his passing he is still in my thoughts every day, he is every where I go, I see him in shadows in the night, I hear his voice, a whisper saying hello, I see his reflection through the window, just a glimpse but he is there, and I am glad.

Born in 1946, in the town of Subotica, in the former Yugoslavia. He was born to parents he never knew, adopted by Maria and Marco, Hungarians living in Subotica. He was joined 7 years later by his brother Joso.

His days were spent playing barefoot in the streets, kicking soccer balls and running with the Gypsy's. His nights were spent in a one room apartment, for they had very little money. He was happy, so very happy with nothing, he didn't even know the things he didn't have. For he had love, and that is all that mattered.

He was clever and mischievous, he was bored in school and was much happier attending the school of life, on the streets, stowing away on the trains and riding until he was in a foreign land. He's be gone for days but his parents always knew he'd be back, charming his way into homes for food, and hitching a ride back to them.
Then one day he spotted my mother leaning against a railing in the city center market, she was young and naive, and had never had a boyfriend. He charmed her, wooed her, promised to marry her and then left for his military duty. She was smitten, and of course she would wait for him.

2 years he spent in the Army, traveling, learning new languages, meeting new people but waiting until the day he could get back to the woman he promised to marry. Marry they did, running away from her strict parents, hoping on a train to Germany and eloping with their best friends. They had their whole lives ahead of them, the world was their oyster, they wanted great things for themselves.

They chose to start their new life in Canada.

They landed with $50 to their name, and only speaking a few phrases of English, but they were happy, for they had love, and love would see them succeed.

He worked hard, he wanted to provide for his family and his 2 little girls that quickly became the love of his life. He took long job postings as an electrician in the mines of Baffin Island, leaving my Mom to raise 2 girls on her own for extended periods of time. We'd all wait, anxiously for Daddy to get home. He'd tell us about fighting polar bears and sharing whale meat with Eskimos, he'd bring us beautiful sparkling rocks, telling us they were full of diamonds. He'd tickle us until we almost peed, and stroke our foreheads at night to lull us to sleep.

He'd read books on Aristotle and Chomsky, he'd smoke cigarettes and drink vodka, he was mysterious and would divulge strange ideas to us when he'd had too much to drink. He'd recount his theory's on aliens and UFO's, government conspiracy and the afterlife.

He'd teach us Latin and German, and scold us for watching soap operas and reading Archie comics. He described all corners of the world with his stories and took us to some of his favourite parts of the world in real life. In France we spent days seeing every historical monument there was, in Hungary we spent Christmas day in a Hari Krishna temple. In Yugoslavia we went to the mountains and the sea and saw everything in between.

He taught us to be ourselves, and told us to be open with him, we talked about sex and drugs, and could always count on him to be fair and honest.
He made us laugh, he had a dry sense of humour that terrified our boyfriends but made us giggle all day, he was quick and witty and was king of the pull my finger joke.

He struggled with insecurity, and was disappointed easily by unkind people. He was a recluse, liking time on his own to think, for he was a great thinker. He taught us how to be good thinkers, to see the logic in things and to open our minds to more than what is just there in front of us.

His ultimate goal in life was for us to be happy, if we were happy, he was happy, all our accomplishments big and small made him proud, little did he know that he made us proud too.

He did all the things a great dad should do, he taught us to be kind, thoughtful, forgiving, appreciative and to Love, for Love above all was his specialty.

Here is a poem that i wrote for my Dad when I was 20, one I didn't share with him until after I found out he was sick.

I’ll Fly Away

The sound of silence, unnoticed by my ears.
Yet I unsuccessfully block out the whispers.
“Spread your wings” they call, “don’t hold back, just fly away.”
My first reaction is to obey,
to follow the whispers to a sea of independence.
Yet instead, I grasp on to what is more definite,
something stronger and wiser, than I’ll ever be.
Someone who’s arms can forever wrap around me
and protect me from a world so seemingly large and scary.
He who stands so tall is my father.
A bright moon and I his star, glowing brightly under his rays.
I’d like to fly away and soar in the sky,
but only dear father if I know you’ll be there to catch me when I fall.

Tina
May 1992

Relocation Tinkertines Down Under

I was very happy to receive this link from my Twitter friend @jackiembooth in the UK. With all the doubt I've been feeling over our move to Australia, this is just what I needed: A reminder that the city of Canberra, where we plan to make a new life for our family, is a great one. Jobs are plentiful, the balance between nature and metropolis is a perfect one for us and just seeing the sunshine and hearing the birds chirping in the background was enough to make me pull out my suitcases. The video is a bit long and the properties showcased are not exactly our taste, we would definitely be in the market for something less "outdated", but the excitement of moving to Canberra is creeping its way back in. I'm looking forward to taking advantage of the miles and miles of bike paths. My dream home will hopefully have views of the Brindabella Mountains (and a swimming pool). I have a long "to do" list for my new life, and taking up rowing is one of them. I can't wait to get out on the lake in the early mornings and glide through the water.
The proximity to the coast and the mountains is invaluable, I could surf the beaches of Sydney in the morning (if I surfed) and by the afternoon be on the snow hills skiing (if I skied), both on my "to do" list as well. There was even a little part of me that envisioned my boys racing along the motorcross track that was featured (what, am I crazy)?
If you've got the time, have a look, you might even decide that Canberra, Australia is the place for you.

A Decision To Make

One of the first orders of business when I move to Australia will be to find a job. We will need to become a two income family again in order to afford all the comforts we enjoy now. I'm okay with this, and am ready to get back into the full time workforce. I will miss being at home with the kids but I feel like I've given them a great start and we are all ready for this next phase of life.
I've been thinking a lot about what I might want in a job. I will be settling in Canberra which is the capital of Australia and there are plenty of government jobs. I've always been interested in getting into the administrative side of my career, and to be honest, working for the government will earn me more money than anywhere else.
My days as a Recreation Therapist for the elderly, or better known as a Diversional Therapist in Australia, were busy and exhausting. I was always on my feet, pushing wheelchairs, lugging supplies, setting up for activities and events. I was often emotionally drained after a day of comforting those who are grieving the loss of their independance and settling those with dementia during frightening and confusing episodes.

Maybe this time I might do something easier, I am not implying that public service jobs are any less work than other jobs but I could ease into one by starting in an entry level or temporary position. Answering phones, e-mails and doing some light administrative duties. I would sit at a desk all day, and quiet my brain a little bit. I would take uninterrupted coffee breaks with adults and engage in adult conversation. I'd enjoy the pleasure of trips to the toilet without two kids following me and wanting to sit on my lap. I might even be able to make a phone call in peace, perhaps send an email without a two year old banging on the key board. Oh the luxury.

But is that what I really want?

I love working with the elderly, especially those who suffer from Alzheimer's and Dementia, sure it can be a long and exhausting day, both emotionally and physically, but it is also very rewarding. I love seeing the smile on their faces when I pop in to their room for a visit. It is an accomplishment for me when they complete a craft, baking or gardening project with ease. I am so amazed by them when they easily rattle off difficult answers to the daily crossword puzzle. Then there is the joy of Bingo, their timid voices can get really loud in the excitement of calling out a win in Bingo. I suppose I'll get to enjoy some serenity by taking them for a walk around the garden, enjoying the fragrant blooms and reminiscing with them about their own gardens. There is always time for a coffee break, gathering around a table, enjoying a cup of coffee and sharing stories of our children and family life. I would also get the opportunity for some quiet time, like when I sit with them bedside, during their last hours, holding their hands and reflecting on the life of my own loved ones.

I learn so much about life from these wise men and women, perhaps skills that would benefit me more in the long run than learning how to navigate through a government database.

The Real Truth

This move to the other side of the world seems so close but is yet still so far away. I'm standing at the edge of the cliff, waiting for our house to sell and when I sign on the dotted line that is when I will jump in feet first (or fall off screaming). I am so afraid that the only thing that is holding me together right now is the fact that we do not have a specific move date yet. The move is real, it is in the works, my immigration application is in progress, our family and friends all know of our plans, we've informed the schools yet it still doesn't feel real. I put a smile on my face and tell my friends how excited I am, I cheerfully talk about it on Facebook and Twitter but to tell you the truth, I'm terrified. I am a creature of comfort, I love my little house, I love my routine and that I get to stay at home with my kids. I love that it is only my husband and I who look after our kids, and they don't go anywhere without us. I guess what I am most afraid of is giving up my control, control over my life that I have wrapped up nicely in a warm comfy blanket, safe from all of the world. My in-laws will be very involved in the kids life, the kids will be spending weekends with them, they will be driving them around town, Poppy will take them to see his horses (don't get me started on horses). I will have to learn how to drive on the wrong side of the road, and navigate my way through round-abouts and streets in a city 5 times the size I am used to. I will have to work, I haven't had a full time job in almost 5 years, I don't remember what its like to get dressed in real life clothes and get myself to work. How am I going to do that plus get 2 kids ready for school and day care, AND drive them there on the wrong side of the road. I worry about all the things that are going to be more expensive, houses, clothes, food. I worry about the flight over there, I am terrified of flying, and then there will be sharks and spiders and snakes and droughts and bush fires to deal with. Okay so I know I'm getting a little carried away but these fears are all real to me. All these fears and worries are lingering at the edge of my mind, waiting for the move date to be set so that they can drown me and I will not know how to surface.
I tend to underestimate myself , A LOT, and I hope this will become the case here as well because I have no idea how I am going to face the reality of all this when the time comes.