It's not a war, but i will win this battle.

Hello friends!!! Sorry for my recent absence. The tiny person is quite time consuming and rather accomplished in dominating my attention at the moment. As I type, she is playing on the floor in front of me. When I say "playing" I mean screaming, kicking her legs, chewing a toy panda and making attempts to concuss herself on the coffee table. She is a genius, obviously. So six months in to the gig, and I have rather flatlined in terms of running. I mean really, who am I kidding? I am less fit than I was when I started this blog. BUT. I am making a change readers. I AM going to run in the Melbourne Marathon this year. I just am. So I am starting again. In life, you have to choose your battles and I am choosing this. In my tiny little corner of the world, in between breast feeding and Maisy, I am going to win this one. Yes.

What most people don't know.

What most people don't know is that the night Little Cwtch was made, was never supposed to happen. I was throwing a divorce party for starters. That was never supposed to happen. I was supposed to have found my happily ever after with the man I now call my ex husband. Divorce was really the last thing I ever wanted to have in my life but these things happen so a party it was. And Welsh was not supposed to be in the country. He has left to go home never to be seen again (well...until i visited him in mid april) but he did a U turn in Thailand and arrived the day before the party. My cousin had died in a car accident you see. I was really sad. I went to Queensland and swam with turtles and drank with family and ran barefoot on the beach but I still felt sad. I shared a bedroom with my sister and stayed up late and sunbaked and drank beer for breakfast but I still felt sad. One night I called Welshy in Thailand. The humidity was snaking its way into my brain and the mosquitos were chewing on my ankles. I sat on a step in the garden at my aunty's resort and asked my boyfriend to come home. "Can you come home?" That's all it took. So there we found ourselves on the night Little Cwtch was made. In a place we were not supposed to be, with people we were not supposed to be with and somehow we created the one thing in all the world that I know in my bones we were supposed to have. It's a strange thing to know her life was sewn together with threads of grief. Her eyes are like absolute joy. Her smile is enough to break my heart a thousand times over. Her skin is the sweetest, softest thing I could ever imagine in a million lifetimes. I love her more than love. More than can be possible. More than the chambers of my heart can hold. I don't believe in destiny, but I do believe in her.

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