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It's hot I’m hot. I have a hot husband and a hot child. And no I am not vain… just really hot. The temperatures here in Adelaide have reached an all time high, and we are experiencing a heatwave second to none… with a recorded temperature of 45.7 degrees on the news last night. My brother sent me a text (note NOT sms)asking what it felt like… and my best description was… ‘Hmmmm… take your wife’s hairdryer, put it on full heat and keep it blasting in your face all day long’. So, as you know Bern passed his learners… the next goal was to pass his drivers. He had been receiving driving lessons from an ex- South African. And not because the man can’t drive… but let’s remember all those nasty little habits we so joyously pick up and they’ve become an integral part of one’s driving experience. We all do it… hand fixed on the gear stick, elbow on the window, hands crossing when you’re turning… So Bern had to start all over again… and it wasn’t something he was keen on doing, so when Saturday finally arrived, the day of the test… I could see Bern turn a lighter shade of pale… And this was the first time I had seen panic in his blue eyes… He looked ill, and I felt ill for him. But this will change. Along with the month of January I will leave my dear friend procrastination behind. February will mark new beginnings… and new adventures… Talking about adventures, what a weekend we had… Sunday morning we planned to go watching the Tour again… it was the last day, and we felt we wanted to be a part of the final celebrations. Bern mentioned we would leave for the race in the early evening, which would give us time to ride to the city and find a good spot to watch from… Only, just after we got back from our early morning ride (obsessed, yes, perhaps…) I had this sinking feeling that the tour was not in the evening… and man… Bern loves my intuition… it’s always right! We dashed into the city, with the car, and got stuck in the most almighty traffic jam… the race had started and we were stuck in the car. And Aussies, don’t just park anywhere. They ONLY park in designated parking, no cars on verges, in loading zones, in no stopping zones… For the first time I had this feeling of… ‘Why do they have to be so law abiding’… but we managed to find a parking, and we managed to watch the Tour… with the other hundreds of thousands of supporters… the passion in the air was invigorating! But the passion at the tour was NOTHING compared to what we felt on Monday… We started the morning with a ride along the Torrens (did I mention obsessive?) and then got home to jump into our Aussie attire. All of us in cowboy hats, yellow shirts wearing temporary tattoo’s and big smiles… we were set. And off to the parade we went. We felt like real tourists in the outfits, until someone asked us for directions… and all was ok… they were the tourists, and we were chuffed! The bus we caught into the city happened to have a malfunctioning ticket machine, so we got free rides. Yip, we weren’t charged… the metro bus system’s fault… not ours… don’t have to pay… Happy Australia Day! This was Australia day for me. Bern, Becca and I… relaxed, safe and sitting in the dappled shade, eating Aussie beef… on our Aussie picnic blanket… the real Australian Way! School here is different. Kids here are different… for example… I’m leaving the school, after dropping Rebecca off for her first day. My heart is heavy, and my eyes are swollen with tears… When this cute little pigtail wearing blonde girl rushes past me, with a huge grin… It’s her first day of kindi (kindergarten). Only problem is, she’s forgotten her bag… and dad is chasing after her. We’re all in the main school building, teachers milling around, school secretary greeting sweetly… and the principal in earshot. Dad manages to get the attention by shouting… ‘Oi, your schoolbag”… She looks back blushes because she’s left her bag but then promptly bellows out… Oh Sh!t… I shouldn’t have been so worried about Rebecca. I’m sure it’s an in-built motherly thing…but one tends to stress more for the first day of school, than the child actually does. Thoughts ran through my head… Will they understand her? (um… Yes, they speak English and so does she). What if she needs the toilet? (um.. well then she asks to go)… What if she needs me? (Who was I trying to kid….). On the first day of school, I had to drag Rebecca out of bed… I’m not sure why I woke her up so early, because school only starts at nine… and after getting dressed and eating breakfast she still had to wait almost two hours before we left for school. The first day’s ride wasn’t all that bad… in fact it was invigorating, liberating to say the least. I loved the fresh air, the breeze and the chatter of the daughter behind me… I felt embarrassed for Rebecca riding into school, knowing how cruel some kids can be… And when we arrived… my worst fears came true… On her first day, all the kids were staring at her, pointing at the bike. I turned to her and quietly whispered… ‘Do you want me to ride round the back’… And she confidently turned to me and said… ‘Nah mom, it’ll be too far for you to walk’. We had to stand and wait for the kids to be split into their classes. My nerves were shot. Hundreds of kids and parents milling around, Rebecca and I must have looked like overwhelmed statues… we just stood there… dead still… absorbing all the new surroundings. I leant over and whispered in Becca’s ear… ‘So, are you excited?’… and she looked at me with her beautiful blue eyes and said…’I’m a bit nervous mom’…. And all I could do was nod my head… I felt just as nervous for her… I could feel her tiny little hands clinging to mine… and I couldn’t do anything to make it better. With the classes announced, I led Becca to her classroom. Her teacher was fantastic, I tried my best to hold back a tear… and she handed me a tissue and said ‘I’m a mum too, your daughter will be fine, I can see she’s a confident little girl, so you say goodbye… ‘ Her first week at school was great. She came home the second day and mumbled something about having to go to the principal’s office for her work… Of course the worst springs to mind, and I start explaining to my seven year old the do’s and don’ts in one’s first few days at school, until Becca interrupts my ramblings with…’Mom… I had to go to the office because my work was so GOOD!!!’ My observations and first introduction to an Aussie school:
So, Becca’s first week was a positive one… and I felt relieved… It’s just amazing how adaptable kids really are… So if there’s one thing I have learnt from Becca… Just go with the flow…
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