A day in the life.

 Typically, I wait to write a post when inspiration hits. A funny moment occurs or we get back from an adventure. Sometimes, it's just a sweet turn of phrase that slips into my mind as I reflectively muse on our life and shenanigans. 

It is testament to how busy we've been of late, that it's been a silly amount of time since our last post. Things aren't stressfully busy, but we're frequently on the hustle. From one thing to another.

For your elucidation, here's a rundown of our last week. Mountain Dad was away on an eight day outdoor ed trip and the Mountain Kidlets and I were running the show, without his logistical genius. It went something like this;

- MONDAY. Me up at 5:45 to do yoga, with Lox joining midway through to natter the tales of his night to me. Adelaide emerges around 6:30, sleepily dishevelled and cuddly. I do my best to calm my hustle and give them time for snuggles and chats as they slowly wake up. I've learned from experience that if I greet them mid-flight-of-morning-preparation, loading them with encouraging 'quick, quick, let's get ready first and we can relax later,' we end up in an emotional hot mess. Slower than we would have normally been. Taking the time to have a snuggle and quiet check-in, (though internally I'm writhing from the lack of forward momentum), sets us up for success.                                                                                                    We hustle into the car at 7:30 and I whip the kids to school, calling ahead to their Out Of School Hours (OOSH) care facilitators, that we're on our way. We're met at the gate and again, I outwardly present a calm that belies my internal panic. My ferry leaves at 7:37 and it's never late. I often am.

Drive to the ferry wharf. Park. Trip trop in my unpractical (but gorgeous) shoes to the ferry. Use the five minutes of ferry transit to check in with any WhatsApp messages that have come in overnight (hello, Canadian loved ones!). Trip trop up the hill, avoiding walking with my colleague who catches the same ferry as me, because he's more fit and I can't keep up with him as he marches up the hill. If I do accidentally make eye contact and we walk together, I slyly ask him a probing question at the bottom of the hill, so he has to do the talking during the climb. 

School. Hustle from class to class. Email. Check in with students. Pause to look out the sweeping windows of the staffroom. They overlook the old Newcastle downtown, the harbour and the ocean. 

Breathe.

Return to hustle.

3:05, end of day. Turn phone ringer on in anticipation of Mountain Kids calling me to let me know they're home safe. Catch up on emails. Check in with colleagues. Curse that I've missed the 3:40 ferry. Dash out at 3:50, trip tropping down the hill to catch the 4pm ferry. 

Breathe. Look out to the ocean and watch the waves. 

Ferry to Stockton and trip trop to car. Hoon out and whiz my way to the house to dash in, drop school bag, collect grocery bags and Mountain Kids and back into the car to whiz off to Girl Guides. It's a twenty minute drive away, so while Adelaide enjoys the activity, Lox and I do the grocery shopping. 

6:00 Collect Adelaide from Girl Guides. Drive home, quizzing kids on times tables along the way. 

6:30 Walk in door. Run back and forth from car (downstairs), to kitchen (upstairs) with groceries. Lose my bananas on Lox who, trying to help, dropped a watermelon on the path. It smashed. I'm smashed. 

Dinner by 7pm, Lox in bed by 7:45, Adelaide in bed by 8. Sing kids songs. Breathe. Try to be in the moment and not executive function my way through planning of tomorrow. Dishes. Sneak in some trashy TV because Mountain Dad is away. Bed. Probably too late.

TUESDAY - repeat Monday. Only I miss the ferry. So sit and write some WhatsApp messages and almost miss the next ferry.

Kids to mates houses after school as I have after-school staff meeting. Adelaide to dance (at the Church Hall about 100 metres from our house). Catch the 5pm ferry, hustle to collect kids. Dinner. Bedtime routine. Every night, as I wish him goodnight, Lox asks me,

"What will you do when you leave my room?"

"Same thing I do every night," I answer.

"Sing to Adelaide and then do your bedtime routine?"

"You got it." I neglect to mention the trashy Dad's-away TV.

WEDNESDAY - repeat. No after school activities for the kids, but as I have a co-curricular to facilitate, they get collected by Papa. I catch the 5:15 ferry home, hustle some bread, butter, cheese and veggies together and we cycle to a nearby park and enjoy the free BBQ to make toasties. The sun sets on the harbour and we watch the yachts sail home for the night and the hulking coal ships as they ponderously enter the port. We ride home in the dark. 

THURSDAY - repeat. Only we have swimming after school today so we hustle to be there for 4:15. Lox gets unusually anxious about it and again, I call upon my theatre training and present a soothing exterior while wrestling with an internal urgency. He doesn't want to swim and my mother-bear side wants to honour his feelings. But. If he doesn't get in the pool, I don't get a chance to swim my laps. And the windows for me to get my laps in are small. My cajoling works and he swims. I swim. Nail a kilometre as the kids finish their lesson. Home. Dinner. 

FRIDAY - day off! Blessed be the part-time work week. Meet a girlfriend for a morning walk. Cycle the kids to school and then head off to my Friday morning sailing lessons. Ignore the crumbs on the floor and scum in the bathroom sink. 

Something's gotta give. House cleaning is usually it. 

Catch the ferry in the evening to bike to a downtown park for music and picnic in the warm summer air. Listen to the waves crash behind us and relax into a glass of wine and the company of friends. Enjoy sitting under the gnarly old fig tree with buttress roots so big you can use them as a chair. Watch my kids become entranced by the intermission magician.

Breathe.

On my commute to work. 

The view from the staffroom at my school. 

Hot day at Gran and Papa's.

The walk down our back lane to get in the house via the back gate.