Gone Fishing

If the blog had a door that you had to open to enter,  it’s possible if you’ve walked past that door in the last few weeks, you may have seen a sign that said something like the one above.

It’s been nearly three weeks since we left Qatar. Three weeks of constant eating, reunions with old friends, late nights, wine and giggles. Lots of hugs, lots of “awwwwww look at you!” And lots of “I really should write a blog…oh look, is that a bottle of wine?”

I don’t think we’ve wasted one minute of our past few weeks. Every day has involved catching up with a friend or ticking something off the list of “must do’s” while we were home. We hit the Tarmac running, on our race to soak up as much of Australia as possible.

Within the first forty eight hours we were sitting at the MCG with a beer, grins from ear to ear, watching the Cats play Hawthorn. We found our way to our seats, the one’s we’d booked online months ago, G at one end, me at the other, the Little Travelers in between us. Every now and then we’d glance at each other with a knowing smile. After months, then weeks and then finally days of counting down, we’d made it. We were home.

We caught a tram, ate a pie, walked the Mall and made the compulsory emergency doctors visit (there’s always the emergency Doctors visit). We’ve been to Parliament House and The War Memorial. We watched Question Time. When Peter Garrett waved at the Little Travelers I become over excited “HE USED TO BE A ROCK STAR” I said. “The old bald guy?” they asked. They didn’t believe me.

For me, it’s all about The Little Travelers understanding Australia, experiencing its nuances, its pop culture. We drown ourselves in Masterchef, footballs are kicked and netballs are thrown. We eat fish and chips on the beach and smell the gum trees along the river. I become a tour guide and give over zealous recollections of “when I grew up.”

I realized I was just a little bit too excited about being home when I was standing at the bakery counter with one of the Little Travelers. I sounded like something out of Australian movie, “See that honey, now that’s what you call a Lamington”. I really wanted her to appreciate that Lamington. “Mum, you’ve really lost it”. Maybe I had.

I love the first few weeks of being home, but it’s not just the excitement of old friends and familiarity. It’s that G is with us as well, it’s a family holiday. The next part, the part when he goes back to work, is always a little disjointed and unfamiliar.

I have four more days. Four more days of dual parenting, four more days of being a couple, four more days of my gorgeous G.

He will head back to Doha on Sunday and The Little Travelers and I will slowly settle in to life in Australia without him for seven weeks. We’ll slow down on the catch ups and settle in to the routine. We’ll still be on holidays but it’ll be different. It’s never the same without G.

Next week it’s back to business, more blogging, more writing, more vegetables, less wine.

The sign will come down.

See you on Monday.


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