My day out begins. (Nikon school)

Saturday I was in Melbourne for a 1 day intermediate photography course with the Nikon School.

I'm sitting in McCafe waiting for 9.30 to hurry up and get here.

My day started like this...



I heard pichu scream through the monitor, precisely timed 1 hour (uncanny) before my alarm was set to wake me.  This meant I started the day bright eyed and bushy tailed after just 4 hours of sleep. Might have been a bad dream because he easily drifted back to sleep with a few head pats (his favourite).  But it was too late for me, I did attempt to return to sleepy land, but on returning to my bed and finding Oshawott sprawled across the bed, arms wide, one slapping Daddy in the face and one holding my pillow hostage, I gave up on that notion. Instead opting to just get ready for my big day out.

The spider in the bathroom slowed me down slightly as I weighed up the chances of it launching itself off the wall to attack me. Logic and tiredness won the mind battle and I didn't even get out the vacuum cleaner to suck it up like I usually would. 

I tried to quietly leave the house. Forgot my phone, had to go back and get it, then the dog heard me as I got to the car and assuming it was a wallaby come to steal it, started barking.  It was 4.45am, the rooster was crowing,  not bothering to poise himself gracefully on a fence post, but from the warmth and cosiness of his roost.

After hearing many stories off near miss spider attacks from Coder I was hesitant to take his car to the airport... In the dark, but I had no choice.  The drive to the airport was incident free at least, except for remembering his car was a manual and occasionally forgetting to change gears. But the good news is that it can maneuver around a roundabout in 4th gear!

One drawback to not traveling alone with 4 young children is apparently you look more suspicious.  I was 'randomly' selected for the drug swab test.  I love how he casually chatted to me about my travel plans as he swabbed my armpits, pockets and luggage for amphetamines! 

The one time that I am flying by myself (in 8 years) and could enjoy a snack and hot drink on my very own seat tray they didn't have any cheese and crackers!  They don't have perishables from Hobart. Right, I forgot Hobart is a third world state. No wonder Tasmanians like to think of themselves as completely separate to the mainland, look at how we are treated!  

It is ok, I can live without the snack because I am actually enjoying being able to use my own iPad, whilst listening to other people having to deal with their screaming children. Ah the memories of just yesterday, still so fresh, like a tantrum snapshot permanently frozen in my mind.

"The Journey Home" - a not so cheery event

All good holidays must come to an end.  So on Thursday we woke up at 6.40 to catch an 8am flight out of Broken Hill. Well that was what the alarm was set to, but I was up at 6, waiting patiently for the alarm to go off.  

Not sure what happened, but somehow the good children from Flight May31 had been replaced by the hyper, hearing impaired children from June14. It all began with a lady bug.  Voltorb started crying at the gate, and not because he was sad to be leaving, as I'm sure he was, but because he didn't get a long hold of the lady bug Legoman had picked off of Pichu's jacket, and released back into the wild as we left the terminal.  He cried until we were taking off.  I didn't like how the morning was shaping up so far, but I was optimistic it would improve.  I finally clued in it was going to be a good day around about the time I was accidentally poked in the eye on takeoff.  Because why wouldn't your 8 year old shove his arm through the seat in front of you on the plane and wave his arm around at the same time you are leaning forward to retrieve something out of your bag, coincidentally an "i" device for one of the boys.  

One way to get sympathetic looks from staff and strangers on your last flight of the evening: walk onto the plane with a 4 kids marching in front of you.  The youngest not yet 2, but having to walk along the aisle to our seats.  Two of the boys pulling cabin bags, me with obviously heavy bag, backpack stroller, and the all important dozen Krispy Kreme donuts.  Or maybe it was the look on my face, the "I've been up since 6am, travelling alone with 4 precious little treasures, this is our third flight, my toddler had a blowout at the Adelaide airport, we had to go through security twice more then expected thanks to a gate change, we almost lost Oshawott (the teddy), we did lose teddy (the teddy), and the toddler hasn't napped all day" look.

Back to the beginning though.

The Rex flight into Adelaide was fine, mostly.  Obviously not so fun being poked in the eye, but other then that the boys were good.  Happily munching  away on our complimentary snacks while we watched Little Charley Bear and other various shows and games.  We had a rough landing, the weather wasn't so great in Adelaide and it was taking forever to descend via the Adelaide Hills. It was turbulent, and I had to paste a fake calm demeanor on my face, actually similar to the flight attendants!  Except, she has had training in that area and looked downright chirpy.  This wasn't a chirpy moment lady!  The boys were laughing (screeching happily if you are Pichu) at the butterflies in their tummies as we bounced up and down on the changing air currents.  To make matters worse, Legoman decided it was right then that he was busting to go to the toilet.  Great.  The next 15 minutes dragged into what seemed like an hour.  An hour of telling him there was no way he could use the toilet, that he had to hold it until we land.  Once landed, they wouldn't let us off the plane until the bus was there for us to get onto!  Even more great.  He did a fantastic job, very proud of him for being able to hold it in, I had visions of him wetting himself and how we would handle that, and what spare clothes we had packed that I could actually get my hands on quickly. The flight attendant, upon hearing the urgency in our pleas, asked the pilot and let him use the toilet as we disembarked.  One disaster averted. 

One averted.. two more arise.  Pichu decided Thursday was a good day to have one of his only 3 ever blowout nappies, and on the day I had no spare clothes for him of course!  No problem, one bonds body suit has been sacrificed in the name of aroma free hand bag.  Then at the gate, about to board, I notice Oshawott is not holding Oshawott (the teddy).  The look on his face was pure horror.  Poor little boy.  Luckily for us, my friend had been catching up with us at the airport and volunteered to go back and search the areas we had been.  Oshawott teddy was on the Rex bus! (probably something to do with the 2 middle children not sitting still and using the whole back row as a trampoline). He has since been popped in the mail.  Thanks Sam! This is a well travelled teddy, he made his way to Broken Hill via express post as I had forgot to pack him! 

What a view!

Again the boys were in control of the plane, and this time I was very very naughty and turned my phone back on to film them.  I figured it might be the last time they do it, it's too cute to miss!

 Thank goodness for iPads!

 Using cabin bag as a bomb detonator.

Oshawott wanted me to take his photo (with the iPhone) but a pesky brother kept getting in the way!

A calm moment on the last flight, after major meltdowns from 3 children.  Voltorb crying because I wasn't going to sit next to him, Legoman refusing to sit on the other side so I could sit with Voltrob, and Pichu crying, well because that's what he does best.  To his credit, Legoman had sat by himself on the previous flight and just wanted to sit with everyone this time.  He probably regretted it later, as he became my 'go to' son.  He had to take his belt off several times to retrieve something from the floor.  First it was Dragon, followed precisely as the seat belt was re-clasped, by Super Croccy.  He also had to hand out the "i" devices once the seat belt sign was turned off, and collect them again at the end of the flight.  All the while I was struggling to keep a very tired and grumpy Pichu occupied enough so he would not cry.  He eventually gave in and fell asleep.  

It was dark when we landed of course, and everyone was super excited to see Daddy.  Naturally we were almost the last ones to come inside as it was slightly more awkward then usual to get down the plane stairs.  I was carrying Pichu who had just woken up and not happy, backpack stroller on, heavy handbag, donuts, plus I had to carry Legomans bag down the steps because that is the one with the D7000 in it.  And you know what? I actually couldn't physically do it.  I think it was the first time I had come to a complete standstill not being able to cope. Seeing me struggle, and wanting to get off the plane at some stage that night, a nice man helped carry the bag down the stairs.  He offered to carry it in, but I said we were ok.  We were, Legoman came and grabbed it again. We also had to take time out to admire the working sniffer dog, quickly steering Oshawott away as he reached out for a pat.

It was great to get away for the holidays, but it's great to get home too.  And it will be even more great Monday, when school starts!  

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Gotchya! (our surprise visit to Broken Hill)

School holidays are upon us.  Rather then stay home, being referee for 2 weeks, I decided to take the boys back to Broken Hill again.  It has been a long first term in Hobart, especially for Voltorb getting used to full time school. The boys were super happy with the news, Coder was relatively happy, meant he could get alot of work done on End Permian, but he would miss the ratbags.  So tickets were booked, bags were packed and off we went.  Oh, and I decided to keep this little gem to ourselves and not let anyone know we were coming!

It's not a decision I made lightly, you see, my sister also has 4 children. So turning up on a school night at 7pm, needing somewhere for 5 extra people to sleep is no small ask.

The trip over was fairly smooth.  Travelling alone with 4 children, the youngest being in a pram, the second youngest whinging about walking, and the other two using toys as bowling balls in the airports, certainly gets some looks from strangers.  But it also brings out the best in (some) people.  People offer to help, they don't think twice about trying squeeze the backpack stroller in an overhead compartment, or hold onto the toddler so he doesn't fall off the baggage stand on the bus.  Luckily I do have 2 randomnly capable children that like to pull cabin bags, and even better, know that if they don't there won't be any future solo parent holidays.

Backpack stroller, best recent purchase.  4kg of sanity neatly packed in cabin bag sized backpack.  One little thing made the trip almost pleasant.  Really, I got so many comments, like 'wonder Mum' and 'I don't know how you do it', ahh my little secret.. the backpack stroller! Melbourne airport is a chore at the best of times, but just a tiny bit more stressful with no time (none, we got off one plane and walked right to the next gate as they were boarding) in between flights, carrying a heavy toddler, bags, and keeping tabs on 3 others.  Having the stroller made things much easier.

 Pichu was intrigued by the constant flow of people finding their seats.  It became a little weird when he started touching their legs on the way past. And, tic tacs = win.  Well for us.  I'm sure the cleaners wont be so impressed with the half packet dropped down into the backs of our seats.

On our trip to Coolum for Christmas, Coder convinced the younger boys they were controlling the plane with the meager seat recline button.  Most people don't seem to know it has this hidden function.  Takeoff speed, altitude, descent and most importantly brakes.  Oshawott in particular takes his job very seriously, and gets very upset if his button doesn't depress properly, how will the plane work?!  I can never get a photo or video of this because the phone has to be always off at those times.  

On our descent into Melbourne, out of the blue, Voltorb asked me if I knew the way to the airport? Curious, I said I did, but why?  Well in case we crashed of course.  He was worried we wouldn't make our next flight if we crashed and had to walk to the airport.  Ah, that old chestnut.  Yes Voltorb, I know the way, but we would probably miss that next flight, but they'd just pop us on the next plane to Adelaide.

5 hours in Adelaide airport was a bit of a downer, thank goodness for the fenced playground in the middle!  Pichu even had a nap in the backpack stroller, though I had hold the handle down so he could sleep comfortably (no recline position).  I even got to have a coffee and read my photography magazine (all the while holding the pram handle down).

 On landing in Adelaide we had 5 hours to spare so we were in no rush this time to get off the plane and therefore took our time.  One of the benefits of being last off the plane is you get to chat with the pilots!

 

We shared lunch with a few extras.

 Nap time.

Oshawott loved the special crown that came with his lunch. He was just a little tired by this stage.

It was dusk while we were waiting to board the Rex flight, big windows, tired kids.

Safely in Broken Hill, thanks Oshawott and Voltorb for that...  we bundled into a maxi taxi and made the short trip to my sister's house.  It was dark.  I asked the cabbie to stop a few doors down, and we lugged the bags (minus one that had apparently taken a detour to Perth), as quietly as 4 tired excited kids carting 5 bags can be, up to the house.  I had the boys ring the doorbell as I recorded.

I don't think they had any inkling!  My sister quickly rang my Mum and made an excuse to get her to come over.

Read about our trip home here. It was not so rosey.