Okay – I’m feeling a little more than “overwhelmed” today. Why? Because I’m off on vacation.
We’re flying north to a world renowned town called Broome. Best beaches ever.
My husband’s brother lives there, and so we try to visit every couple of years. The last time we visited was 2012. We had booked the holiday four months prior to that to get the cheaper flights, because we knew we needed a break. You see, my father was dying. He had bowel cancer and it had spread.
My father ended up dying two days after we returned. To say that it wasn’t a relaxing holiday is an understatement. As the time nears for us to fly out, more memories of the previous time come over me. I’m sad.
The other reason I’m stressed is the fact that, as usual, I’m the packer in my family. Does this happen to anyone else? I can predict it already. My husband will wake up on the morning we fly out, have a shower, then start throwing some things in a bag. Then he will look at me and say, “Where are my blue shorts?” <face palm>
Meanwhile, I’ve packed for me, for our two children, plus all the paraphernalia that is required to go on holidays with two children. I’ve bought, wrapped and packed Easter presents. I’ve bought, wrapped and distributed all the Easter presents and birthday presents required for my family while we’re away. I’ve paid the bills, cancelled the newspaper and shopping deliveries. I’ve organised a housesitter and all the pets for while we’re away (including cleaning the house from top to bottom). I’ve talked to the kids’ school. I’ve packed all the toiletries and medicines our family require while we’re away. I’ve organised snacks and activities for the kids on the flights.
Do I know where his blue shorts are???
No. Not really. Perhaps he should look in his drawer?
The other thing I need to do is organise my brother-in-law the other end of the journey. I love my BIL – he’s a wonderfully caring person, with such a laid-back look on life. If he ever has kids, I can see him strapping the baby to his back and visiting Vietnam or Japan or France or any of the other places he just takes off to. He doesn’t worry and it’s lovely – but stressful as a mother. It’s kind of like, “Yes, my children do require a carseat, and no you can’t just put them in the back of the car unrestrained.” Or “This is a baby who’s just turned one year old. I really don’t think that serving her chilli with green mango, chicken and rice is a good idea. Do you have any Weetbix instead?” Or “Yes, I think that having that huge fish pond there is a danger to my crawling baby.”
Luckily for me, the kids are a little older for this trip. We don’t need to organise prams and cots like previous trips.
But yes – I will be away on holidays in the next couple of weeks. I’ll chuck some pictures on Instagram and Facebook to make you all jealous. I’m determined to catch a barramundi this trip. Each time I go, I catch everything OTHER than a barra.
So find me on Instagram. I’m thinking that there needs to be a story come out of my trip to Broome. So I’ll be taking plenty of notes while I’m up there. I wonder what the gay scene is like in town with less than 15,000 people?
How to contact Renae: