The last night

Tomorrow is our last day here. Our flight departs at 9pm. It's all done. The packers have come and gone. The container was loaded and has joined the innumerable masses over at the Fremantle harbour. The cleaners, well, cleaned. Keys were returned. Kids went to school, were picked up from school. The afternoon progressed into dinnertime and bedtime (twice).

I attended the annual fundraiser/silent auction at the school tonight.

Now, it's late and I'm very tired and I need to go to bed and...

I'm feeling very strange.

My girls have two pick-up times from school; the younger one at 1:30 and the older one at 3pm. Two of my mom friends from the class and I often pass that random hour and a half together with our wee ones. Today, we spent that time at the library. As we parted at the door, we did the usual "See you tomorrow!" and one of them said, "Well, maybe if I catch you at drop-off. I'm not picking up, so the morning is it." And with that, I got the first jab of the fact that I'm really leaving. If I don't see her tomorrow at drop-off, a good friend passing in the carpark as we do every school day and have done for three years (!), I won't see her anymore. It knocked the wind out of me a little, just the thought.

And now here I am, way past my bedtime and I really am quite thoroughly tired...but I can't help but be aware that this is my last night in this place that has been our home for as long as the girls can remember. Tomorrow, I don't know if I'll be bawling so the girls can see it's okay to be bawling or if I'll be stoic so they don't feel worried this move is a bad thing. I suppose I'll just have to take it as it comes.

As for tonight, I'd better go to bed.

Good night.

Wish me luck!

Post of shame

This afternoon, my task was to prep my sewing and knitting stash for transport (meaning I had to empty my 4x4 IKEA Expedit shelf). Four and a half large plastic storage bins later...shelf empty, shame full. I can't give it up because it's all stuff I love and bought with purpose...but still. I buy great stuff with fabulous intention, but that of course is not the same as acting on said intention.

In the words of my favourite Sesame Street pal Grover, "Oh, I am so ashamed."

Perhaps I'll open an etsy store once my things arrive and I settle in, oh say three months from now?

Still here!

Did you know that a pending international move can actually melt a person's brain?

I'm currently participating in a highly scientific process to test this very question. The testing procedures have been ramping up the crazy bit by bit each day over the past several weeks, and I am anticipating a complete and total blast of crazy over the weekend before the packers arrive on Monday morning. Once we move into temporary accommodation Monday afternoon, the test will wind down significantly. By next Tuesday, the packers will be in full swing and we should have some viable results. If my brain actually melts and oozes out of my ears, I may have some pictures to share. Yum.

Hope all is well with you and yours!

Walk In Her Shoes

This week is the week I've committed to CARE's Walk In Her Shoes fundraiser. That pedometer reading was at 11am on day 2. After dropping the girls off at school that morning, I enjoyed a gorgeous walk along the beach with a girlfriend and her crazy dog. We walked into Cottesloe, enjoyed tea and breakfast and then returned. It was a brilliant morning, glorious sunshine, fabulous company, good exercise...safe and warm and beautiful and so easy to crank out those steps on my way to 10,000 for the day!

And then I wondered if that was somehow missing the point.

The women this fundraiser intends to recognize do not and may never take walks like mine. What a supreme luxury I indulge in for my own benefit (exercise with a friend and then breakfast out!) just because I can. Wow. Lucky me!

So on day 3, I decided to keep it real. No purposeful distance-logging walks for me. With an international move coming up, I'm under an oppressive to-do list. I decided to work on that as I would have done without the fundraiser. Guess how many steps I logged by late afternoon that day?

3,479

I was nowhere near the goal of 10,000 steps for the day, but I did feel the point of it so much more. I hardly walked at all. I spent most of my day sitting. I drove my daughter to a specialist doctor's appointment. I sat and waited, and we saw the doctor without much fuss. I could pay for the visit. My daughter's health is good and I don't have to worry. I can afford to buy the medicine she needs. I drove her back to her private school in one of the safest, most beautiful locations I can imagine, where she is instructed well and openly, and I don't have to consider the possibility that as a girl she will not complete schooling to stay home and work or to marry young for money and security. I drove myself home, made several phone calls and used my computer. I made myself lunch from a plentifully stocked pantry. I drove back to school to pick up my younger daughter and we drove with friends to the local library where the children could play with toys and books and fun kiddie furniture while the moms enjoyed a cuppa and a chat while we clocked time before picking up the older kids...

A normal day in the life of a suburban mom.

But what a luxurious life that is!

I logged well under 5,000 steps yesterday, because I didn't have to walk to get anywhere really. When I'm thirsty, I open the tap and clean clear water comes out. When I'm hungry, I can afford to buy the food my body needs (and plenty more that it doesn't). I have access to quality medical care, schooling, security...the list is endless. Not making my 10,000 steps made me so much more aware of the luxury of my situation, of how blessed I am and my children are, and how important the initiatives like Walk In Her Shoes can be.

(For the record, I did make it to and exceed 10,000 steps all other days this week. I stuck to that commitment, though I appreciated the lesson midway through)