Home Again

The best moment of the last two weeks was undoubtedly putting my key in the lock of the front door, flinging it open... and finding everything exactly as it should be.

I loved being in Victoria with our families and adored the opportunities we had to catch up with people and revisit places from our childhood. Christmas was especially amazing, as the boys are still filled with wonder at its magic. They are very good at living in the here and now and it is easy to get caught up in their excitement as they embrace each moment.

Yes, our time away was wonderful. But we were anxious to be home.

We left early this morning, hoping to be home just after lunch. It was a catastrophic fire day, over 40 degrees with howling northerly winds. Even with the air conditioner on, the car was hot. We were still two hours from home when Xavier was car sick for the first time. It was excruciating trying to clean him up by the side of the road in the heat and the wind but we managed. And we kept going, deciding not to eat on the road, but to come home immediately.

And how special it was to come home to find no disaster had befallen it, that everything was clean and tidy and in its place. My fish were all still alive and hurried to the front of the tank, where they have been staring at me ever since. I wonder how quiet and still the house was to them!

The boys wasted no time in playing the keyboard and pulling out their old games. And their new games too. We read books, played Uno Attack and made slushies with our new Christmas present. There was even time for some shopping to restock the pantry.

Home again.

Best of all, we are just in time to see out a year that has not been kind to us. I realise that the worst has not befallen us, that we are a long way from the rock bottom that so many others in our world endure, but this is easily the most difficult year we have faced.

After seven years, this is the year we finally unclenched our fists to find our dreams had fallen to dust in our grasp. There were no diamonds there, just ashes.

We have been rebuilding now for five months. The turn of the new year fills me with hope and I try to forget the other times that I have hoped and wished on the new year.

2011 will be our year.

Sooo relaxed...it's Christmas!

I love this time of year. Not only am I on holidays but the whole world feels decorated. Our Christmas tree is up, there are red bows around the trees in our street, and every public place is awash in red and gold and green. We have finished our Christmas shopping and have only to wrap presents and finish (start) writing out cards. Bliss.

It's impossible to go anywhere though without people complaining about Christmas. When we had the shop, it was a constant stream of customers all saying the same thing: 'I hate Christmas.' Did they mean it? Or was it just something to say? Was there any joy in the day, or was it the lead up to Christmas they hated? I never could figure it out. And never wanted to be in that place where a time of celebration and family could be so unpleasant.

Since we had the boys, there is renewed joy in Christmas. Their faces light up at every image of Santa and they spend hours working on their letters to Santa. They count down the days with delight, poke the presents under the tree and admire Baby Jesus. Bliss!

Today we took the boys to see Santa. This was the first year Xave would have his photo taken with him - mostly because I insisted that I'd waited long enough to see him sit next to Santa, and this was the year it was going to happen. Both boys loved it and talked happily with Santa and Mrs Claus on the magic sleigh.

Mostly, I'm just rejoicing in the fact that I'm actually relaxed for once. With all the time in the world, I'm much more patient with the boys. There's time to read, exercise and play; we can go to the park, play boardgames and read multiple bedtime stories. No wonder Christmas is a joy!

Every three years

My holidays had a slightly delayed start, with this morning taken out to attend a Mandatory Notification course. It was my third time since arriving in South Australia nearly 8 years ago so, of course, I knew what to expect.

Except it's always harrowing.

I always think it will be fine, but it's not. I'm so glad reporting abuse is a mandatory part of our job, but I hate being reminded of the desperate situation some children are in. I hate being reminded that children die at the hands of adults. Or that children can be crushed and scarred because of the evil actions of grown ups.

At the end they showed Daniel Valerio's battered, smiling face and it broke my heart all over again. I can't believe it's been 20 years since he died. I read the newspapers back then and the horrific details of his abuse still remain vivid in my mind.

I came home to my beautiful boys with their sweet, smiling faces. At 8 and 6, nothing bad has touched  them. They're well loved, respected and protected - at least as much as any parent can protect her children.

Still picturing Daniel's face, I tickled Xavier and said, "Life's hard, isn't it?"
He laughed and agreed: "It's hard catching Pokemon."

If only all our children had such hard lives.