Peace at last.

Phew. What a busy few weeks we have had as we pack our Welsh lives up for the sunnier shores of Aus. Moving house is a pain under normal circumstances but add in shipping, going away parties, a small infant...we are knackered. Little Cwtch is slightly alarmed by the lack of attention we have been paying her...honestly, it is a miracle that we have not accidently packed her in to a box (after her performance last night of being awake every hour, I have been tempted.) BUT the main thing is, it is all happening. I sit here typing at Cwtch sleeps upstairs and Welsh gets a head start on our last, final going away afternoon at the pub. The sun has come out for us. In two more days, we will be on a plane. I'm too busy to be excited. We are leaving so much behind. But have so much to look forward to.

I'd eat all the butter from here to Calcutta

Complaint # one billion and seventy five about breastfeeding:

It means you cannot have a restrictive diet.

What a bloody farce. You are pregnant for nine months and all the fun stuff is banned and then if you want to breast feed, the fun stuff continues to be banned AND you are fat.

I know, I know, I know, it's just one of the many things one does as a mother to ensure the health and well being of their munchkin but seriously...some days I would like to fit into a nice dress and not feel like a milk maid.

Rant over.

Is the visa case officer trying to give me a nervous breakdown?

Just curious because Welshy's visa has STILL NOT COME THROUGH.

It was approved months ago and the Case Officer advised us to go ahead and make plans for mid April. Book flights she said. Give notice on your lease she told us. Introduce solids to your baby because there will be two people on the plane to feed her she implied.
So I emailed her this morning and said I was getting a bit nervous as I have not heard anything. She pinged me straight back with "as advised upon application, the current processing time is 6 months." WTF.

WTFWTFWTFWTFWTF.

Not one part of this whole thing has been easy. The whole moving to another country while pregnant, two divorces, a wedding, visa application, baby being born, her passport, her citizenship, buying cars, selling cars, furnishing, packing, unpacking, repacking....

Exhale.

Oh well...if it doesn't come through I guess that means Welsh will need to be "offshore" at the end of May and survive in Melbourne on a tourist visa until then. Which means no work. Which means staying with my parents for a bit longer. Which means lots of babysitting and perhaps a holiday to Bali on the day of approval.

hmmm....not so bad after all.

breast is best

You know why?
Because I just sold my car to my breast feeding support mentor.
Correct. That job exists and correct, I talk boobs and nipples and milk and occasionally cars with one.
But HOORAY because that was a bold point on my ultimate, final, grand supreme To Do List.

In other news, Cwtch has learnt to roll both ways so I keep finding her in the dirt outside or with a table leg in her mouth. Gone are the days when I can put her down and find her where I left her. She is over her stranger danger, is still ridiculously opposed to sleeping and seems to "get the joke" now when her father dances in front of her face.

Pause.

Our flights are booked, we've sold our bed. There's only one direction that we are moving in and that is forward.

There is so much that I am looking forward to about moving back to Melbourne. Good hairdressers for one. Oh, and my family and friends of course.

But looking forward is dangerous as it steals the "right now" from under your nose. And my right now is so amazing. So often, I am overwhelmed by love pulsing through my veins and I wish I could hit the pause button and feel that way always, appreciating the moment so fully, forever.

Little Cwtch wakes up in my arms and reaches out to my face. Her perfect eyelids blink in the predawn light. Pause