Day 2 - High Country, New South Wales

Next day saw us leaving Cooma, and driving up a gentle incline for 60km or so, past sleepy ski town Jeeralang into the Snowy Mountain region.

Even at the tail end of November, while the rest of Australia enters the summer months, we could see patches of snow decorate the mountain range, freshly fallen just that Sunday.

Oh, so pretty!

It was time to whip out the tripod for some family pictures:



Getting comfy and protected from the strong wind in the backpack carrier:


On the boardwalk on the way up to the lookout point, tripod in hand:


The thing that struck me about this place was how massive the mountains were and, in turn, how miniscule we were by comparison. It's near impossible to relay this feeling across using 2D photos, but just to give a sense of scale, here is the Daddy-son duo against the mountainous backdrop.



How wondrous that in spite of our utter insignificance, we are remembered and loved by God!

This scenic spot by the river caught our eye, and we found ourselves stopping the car by the side of the road, getting out and soaking it all in! Though in this particular instance, I was probably trying not to let Dylan get literally soaked, so eager he was to toddle near the water's edge!



Given the few hours we had to wander before having to make our way to Jervis Bay, we had to carefully select a quick walking trail out of the gamut of trails around the reserve ranging from 5km to 25km. We decided on doing a short 5km walk on the Porcupine Trail.

My turn to carry the backpack - here the tike is so so sleepy!


It was a whole lot more tiring that it seemed from the map. With dark clouds suddenly looming overhead, and shoulders aching from our 13kg load (inclusive of the carrier), we turned back with just another 1km to go, not wanting to get back on the road too late. It helped that for a short distance, the little one wanted out of the carrier and walk his merry way down the hill. =)



But before we hit the road proper, and heading up towards Canberra, Australia's Capital Territory en route to Jervis Bay, it was time for a bit of simple home-made... erm sandwich maker-made lunch.



Leaving the high country past noon, we drove and drove for a good 600km into Jervis Bay, reaching the motel only at 7.20pm that evening. Phew - what a long and exhausting day it was! But oh, so fun.

On the Road to Sydney - Day 1

After a hiatus from blogging thanks to our Internet-less holiday to Sydney and busying ourselves preparing for the grandparents' arrival, I'm finally able to sit down and catch up on some of the things we've been up to.

At the Victoria-NSW border


Unlike our September holiday to the Grampians, I'm going to do our road trip to Sydney a bit more justice by breaking it down into what we did each day. A little ambitious, for sure, and I sure hope the details wouldn't bore you!

One of the best ways to explore this massive continent is by road. Inspired by the spirit behind PIXAR's animation Cars, we've been planning for this holiday way before E's exams. We wanted to take the car out, and go for a good long drive to "have a great time and not to make great time". 

Almost three years ago when Dylan was a wee 5-month-old in my tummy, we did this westwards of Melbourne to Adelaide along the Great Ocean Road, and were rewarded with 3 days of breath-taking views and pretty seaside towns. This time round, we drove eastwards of Gippsland, past major Victorian destinations like the 90 Mile Beach and Lakes Entrance, and up north into New South Wales towards the Snowy Mountains.

I was a little worried about how our little tyke would take to long hours in the car, but we told ourselves that we'd reward him with breaks at any playground we came across. Of course, having our nifty portable DVD player helped a lot too! 

After a wholesome Hotcakes brekky at MacDees (*wink!), we set off. About 300km into the drive, we stopped for lunch at Cann River where the road forks into the coastal drive into NSW and north towards Cooma and the Snowy Mountains in NSW. 

The day was sweltering, with the sun out in its full regalia, so Dylan was thrilled to find a fantastic playground complete with colourful plastic animals - the equivalent of a watering hole for the species "boredkidincaria". 

Dylan at the Hippo -


Daddy wants in -


Another plastic animal out - this time a purple dinosaur, nope not Barney!


A double-steering system at the Cann River playground sees little automobile-phile screeching with excitement!


See the look of furrowed concentration on his brows as the little climber ponders his next step:


In the sweltering sun, it's time to strip off a layer - and take a break by munching on a cookie!


After lunch, we were back on the road, and it was another 2 hours to drive from Cann River, past the Victoria-NSW border, into high country. E booked us into a light and airy room at White Manor motel, in a little town called Cooma.

Finally, we've arrived at our first stopover!


Chillin' and Relaxin'


And then it's off to play again - this time right smack in Cooma's town centre. Cooma is a popular stopover destination for skiers en route to the ski slopes, so this time of the year is a little quieter. All the more space for little one to run and climb all over - especially up the huge long slide!

Move to the Groove

Our young gymnast got to display his agility recently, when his playgroup held its Christmas party at a local gymnasium. A rather run down facility, the gym was nevertheless a veritable toddler paradise, equipped with an adult-sized trampoline, , beams, parallel bars - and most importantly, lots of padded ground area to prevent bruised knees!

First event: Floor. It's a great way to warm up to the more challenging events - just listen to the big speaker emitting upbeat music, and move to the groove!



Second: Flying trapeze - another demonstration of why mommy and daddy love to call me "cheeky monkey". Me Tarzan, you Jane?



Third - and our little gymnast's absolute favorite. The Trampoline Marathon. In fact, he spent so much time on the trampoline other kids climbed on and off and he was still there!



After a while, the layers started coming off - it was just getting too warm with all that jumping going on!


Mommy is kicking herself for not bringing the camera to catch the action - hence the videos' poor resolution. All the vids were taken with her trusty Nokia mobile phone.

Mums and Bubs Swim Class

The little tyke has been going for swim classes. And loving them.

Just a stone's throw away from E's med school here in Gippsland, the indoor 25m pool where the classes are held at is heated, oh blessed reprieve from cold days. Surprisingly, though we're in the thick of spring, one rainy day can bring temperatures back down to the 10s here.

Here he is, all changed and getting ready to take the plunge!



I was a little concerned at first about whether I could competently keep D safe, even though the class is at the .8m shallow end of the pool. Cheryl, the swim instructor for the Mums and Bubs class, said that other than being alert to how D was taking to the water, the best thing to teach such a young child about not taking in water or swallowing, is to teach him how whenever his mouth and nose are under water, he should blow bubbles.




"Getting used to these floaty rings around me body!"


With the other moms and bubs, swimming around and singing:

Ring-a-ring o' rosies
A pocket full of posies
A-tishoo A-tishoo
We all blow bubbles (mommies to push bubs' heads under water for a second)

The Story of D's Haircuts

As any parent would testify, getting a squirming toddler a haircut can be one harrowing experience for both the toddler and the scissor-handler. And we've decided that this is probably one battle that we'd be better off not fighting.

My folks advised that we could do it on our own, and they tried to explain to me over Skype how I should just hold D's hair up with me left hand like chop sticks and "cut downwards at a 45 degree angle to his head". It would have worked, I think, if my little one would only cooperate.

When the moment came, E and I set D in his high chair in the bath tub (to reduce mess and for easy cleaning up), I could only manage 3 snips before D started wriggling and squirming and screaming his head off. We had to stop, I think if we persevered his head really would have come off!

So, we ended up bringing D to the professionals.

In another genius stroke, we brought along the portable DVD player, all loaded and ready to play Hi-5's "Music Machine" - one of the little tyke's favorites. We thought it would distract D from the snipping and clipping going on around his head.

And it worked! Amen!


I'm concentrating real hard here, Aunty Katie here is real amused that I - this almost-2 year old monkey - can sit so still! Aunty Katie is thinking to herself - "I gotta get me one of them DVD players!"


Mommy's laughing at my real serious look - can't you tell? My furrowed eyebrows?

What Obama means to me

Tonight, the United States has chosen its new president-elect. Topping news headlines all over, Obama's historic campaign to become America's 44th president is stirring an excitement that seems to ripple through the rest of the world.

I'm watching all the coverage on Aussie telly with a somewhat detached fascination.

My interests for the last year and a half, after all, has been of a more parochial nature. Now as a homemaker, even more so - my days are filled with questions, not about injustices in the world, but if our "larder" is stocked, or the kids (wink!) are well fed and entertained - altogether pretty mundane stuff.

Yet, I wonder about this - there's something about America that holds the rest of us in its sway. We can't help but watch, vicariously enjoying the country's gaffes, its excesses, but also its successes. Maybe it's because America epitomizes the best and the worst of humanity for us, and really compared to us, they are just more honest about it.

And now, with an African American president-elect who will actualize Martin Luther King's famous speech "I have a dream", it is showing the rest of the world that ideals are powerful and can dislodge established norms.

So I guess, in a funny, remote way, I am excited that Obama is going to be the next president. And worried too, because it is reminding me that Dyl will be growing up into a mixed up world.

Think about it - though professedly Christian, this president is going to be one who does not decry diverse sexual orientations, endorses women's right to abort unwanted babies, and excessively uses celebrity endorsement to extend his popularity in an increasingly media-centric populace. And new media too - facebook users, you know what I mean.

It's reminding me that the values that are Biblical, will not be the ones that in Dyl's world, are easily accepted.

Not that these values are accepted in today's world by any stretch of the imagination, and not that I'm not struggling with them myself! But I'm worried nonetheless, maybe precisely because I've fallen victim myself, made so many ill-choices in my lifetime.

Some may say that I'm paranoid to be reading so much into all this. It isn't popular to make sweeping links between American TV and celebrities' influence on our youth, for instance.

But guess what? Now I've got a bit of science to back me up.

A recent scientific study has "caught up with common sense", and definitively found that teenagers exposed to sexual content on television are more likely to find themselves involved in a pregnancy.

I mean, that's just a case in point. The point is, as a Singaporean we're particularly vulnerable to American influence - both good and bad. I'm a case in point, quite frankly.

So in a nutshell, here is Obama as president, means to me. It means:

1. That my child/ren can, and must, fight for their ideals - ideals that matter, and can make a difference in the world, even if at points in time they can seem unattainable, or - ahem - not "pragmatic".

2. That growing up Christian isn't going to be easy. There are too many conflicting messages coming at them. But hopefully with diligence on our part as parents that is coupled with authenticity (as opposed to always being "on the moral high horse type!"), and a whole lot of help from the big guy, he/they'll turn out alright.

Being Merry Married

4 years ago yesterday, this mother was a blushing bride trying her hardest to let the stresses of a wedding day slide by.

What I remember most about that day - indulge me a little in this trip down memory lane, won't you ... was the love that surrounded us. It wrapped around us tightly - this love from our friends, some of whom were far far away but sent missives - funny and wise words of encouragement. My two beautiful bridesmaids, one of whom is soon going to be a mother herself. And our dear ORPC and BFEC friends who sang for us, and practically ran the wedding.

Most of all, the love from our families was palpable on that day. One of my brothers, whose 2nd little girl arrived just the day before, turning up in the morning completely sleep-deprived but there for his little sister nonetheless.

My dad, whose gushing smile as he walked me down the aisle, conveyed his pleasure in giving his only daughter away - a memory I will always hold dearly in my heart. My mom, dressed in her finest - indulging me in letting me pick out something for the day and for the dinner - for once.

And my new mother-in-law, and aunt-in-law, painstakingly preparing hand-sewn gift pockets containing cash, given away to all our friends who helped out in the wedding. And in decorating their beautiful home in our chosen colours - ivory and olive green.

***

Fast forward 4 years.

A million miles from dearly missed friends and family, a little homesick, but happy.

So marriage isn't a bed of roses by any means. And having a child... who sometimes can never do right by the daddy, and gets overly protected by the mommy, doesn't make it easy for either the husband or the wife.

And then there are the disappointments, the ugly side of in-law relationships, we need to overcome, mend, and heal.

And the countless future uncertainties we need to bravely face. Together.

Yet, still, here we are enjoying each other so so much, now a more complete unit with a little one to call our own.

***

Somebody wise at the church we've been attending one day got all the married couples to raise their hands and share how many years they've been together.

The hands started going up... "50 years!" boasted two elderly couples, "coming to 30!" said another handful.

The next question was a little tougher.

He asked, directing at the couples married for 50 years, "So have you reached perfection in your marriage?"

Seems fairly logical - that after 50 years you'd have ironed out all the kinks and transformed each other into the ideal marriage partner you've always hoped for, right?

Wrong!

Beth, one of the dear old ladies, smiling as she patted M's hand next to her, candidly said - "Well let's put it this way... our last argument with each other was just yesterday, so what do you think?"

The moral of the story was that in any relationship, one can never reach a zenith and stay there. That would mean that you've reached a plateau. There really isn't such a thing as a plateau in a relationship anyway.

You either draw closer to each other, or you drift apart.

Extending on this, this wise person observed that the same principle applies in our walk with God. But that's another story for another time.

I've decided that we're no where near wiser, after 4 years, in knowing how to make this marriage work. But I'm grateful, because no matter what we've got each other, and the love that surrounded us on that wedding day 4 years ago is still with us today.

And looking at the face of this little guy God gave to us is pretty awesome too.

A simple celebration was in order. Which meant I get to take a break from cooking - the second time during a weekday night since we got here!

The feast:


"More chips, mommy?"


The glutton - ooh the greek salad with feta cheese and juicy lamb!