Like a child in a candy store....

Now that I am doing half as much as I did, I find I am trying to fit in twice as much as I couldn't. Well grammatically that would have sent my English teacher spinning in her grave, but you all get the gist of what I mean.

Instead of being the mother to an eclectic  bunch of students I am now awash with space and time for myself. Needing to make up for the last 6 years of laziness I want to throw myself into whatever opportunity knocks and I hope that I don't use it wisely, instead go on GUT FEELINGS that might be good for my body, mind and soul. 

Did you know that there are an amazing array of fitness opportunities out there for those who do not wish to sleep longer than 6 1/2 hours (God knows why anyone needs more than that anyway!) AND I plan to source out them all.

Currently I have been using the well worn 7 kilometer hill trek invented by the most "bodacious"  Foxy Oxies  on their sojourn to fitness and fund raising for Oxfam. Now this loop takes between 45 - 75 minutes depending on how hard you "go at it" and I am almost certain that the home-owners would prefer that they had never purchased these magnificent homes overlooking the Brisbane river, or that they had set up treacherous mine fields to keep us all out or remove us in some beastly, well thought out violent feat! They wake most mornings to the sound of gaggles of women excited to be alive and well and devouring what the world has to offer for the day. And I am proud to be one of them!! 

I am off and attacking that mountainous circuit twice a week and feeling the benefits of it on my cardiovascular system and on how freaking great I feel when I get home.

Thing is - when I was out there THIS Saturday morning there was a lot of "hooting" "howling" and "go on - you can do its" coming from an industrial shed not 50 meters from home. I stuck my head in to see about 50 fit, active and sweaty people laughing and encouraging some poor souls whilst they were pushing through the pain of "the 100 burpy set". Punishment for showing up late I was told (mental note to self!!!).
Tomorrow night sees me marching down there and seeing what Crossfit lift is all about and diving into it with both feet. Trust me you will be the first to know.....

The new year and the end of a tradition

So in comes 2013 and I sit back now only weeks since selling my family home and moving to a "rental" and it finally has dawned on me that I am on a sea-change towards a totally different lifestyle...

I can only remember waking to a home filled with International students' all vying for the use of the toaster, juggling glasses of juice or heating milk to be mixed with chocolate powder and then dipped with Nutella laidened bread, all using their English skills as best they could.

Now when I wake I go for a walk around the hilly streets of Albion and Hamilton reflecting on what the day will bring, my days client work-load, what I will feed my growing 15 year old for our evening meal. At the end of the day I finish up my clinic, write up my notes for the day and walk down the hall to pour a glass of wine or perhaps a gin and tonic and sit on the porch watching the lights of the city start to twinkle as the evening draws nigh, and why I am NOT stressed! 

Don't get me wrong, I simply loved the interaction with my students' and learning daily about the lifestyles and cultures of the many Nationalities that lived under my roof. It is just that I am trying to understand where my journey is taking me. It is remarkable how I can be sitting here now not having to get up to answer questions about train travel, go downstairs to retrieve another loaf of bread or fresh milk, explain again the use of the washing machine. Sitting at night watching a DVD and chatting to Harry is a foreign to me and the many sons and daughters that have crossed the mantel of my house from so many cities.


 It is time for me to become more reflective and maybe anyone out there who actually reads my blog posts will follow me on this new journey.

The Lord said something about Sunday and rest!!

When I was young I distinctly remember sitting with other children in a small timber room off the side of our local Church. Here we listened to our large, friendly Sunday School teacher telling us  many scriptures from the bible. One that holds some water is that the Sabbath should be a day of rest. Well for me it is more like the day of refresh and routine.
As you know I have many students' from many countries who share my home and each group of "children" seem to take on  their own "energy". This means that I can often be making huge breakfasts of eggs, bacon, toast, mushrooms etc. that would make any Hobbit envious, or other times the house will be silent till late in the day when they emerge from their rooms in various states of sobriety.
Either way I love my Sunday routine as it starts my day off as a re-charge, I get up mostly a little after the sun peeks through my blinds, which is usually around 6.30am. Jump out of bed, feed an urging cat and bolt down to the Nundah farmers' market. Now my particular market is only little maybe a dozen stalls, so there isn't the competitive edge that others have, but it does lend itself to that family type feel. Still the fruit and veg is super fresh and more than enough for me to fill my fridge for the week to come. Each Sunday lends itself to what my meal options will be and this week says vegetable ragout, crispy salty Kale chips, fresh strawberries soaked in Grand Manier dusted with icing sugar, and something with those funky purple carrots.

After I roam through this hallowed ground I sneak up to the local Restaurant called Jam where I sit in the sun, read the morning paper and sip my Soy Flat White. Occasionally I stay there and get a very decadent breakfast of eggs and very, very occasionally I order something that usually widens the small eyes of a child near me. Today was toasted Waffles with caramel banana sauce, strawberries and vanilla ice-cream, you should have seen to 6 year girl and her face when it came to my table. Needless to say that is Exactly what she coaxed her mum into buying for her too.
As I said this is my re-charge day, one where I don't care what my children from around the planet are up to. Today is all about me!!

Survival Strategies 101 #2 Complacency

12 hours a day of aerobics at a
Network convention on a bowl of soup

So one of the other biggest issues of starting out afresh is keeping up the efforts and not falling into that dreaded state of complacency. It is a very easy thing to do and if you don't set good goals then you fall onto that slippery slide of idle self indulgence, or whatever that means to you.
Once I had embarked onto the new me within the fitness industry I had the opportunity to buy a Fitness Centre in the city. This took a great portion of my savings to do and once in I wanted to brand it as my own. 

BODYLINE AEROBICS

This involved pulling down the stage no one is more important than the other so we all grape-vined around the room at the same level. We added walls and whilst it was a "ladies only" gym when I purchased it, I quickly changed all that to include the other "specie" provided them with a selection of free and pin weights and for us gals some exercise bikes and stair climbers.


This was a family gym and had all the warmth of a friendly home including the breakfast muffins that I would bake at 5am and bring in for the early birds who liked to blast away a few calories before work; monthly we would have chicken and champagne for the lunch time attendee's and in the evenings occasionally put on something of a show. That way I knew that both the members' and the casual attendees were keen to get to us and work towards their own personal goals. We facilitated both their direction away from complacency and kept me on tract.  

under the sea

This was also a place where I raised my two eldest children, Alex was in Grade 4 and Lizzie in Grade 2 and would be taxied (literally) by one of a few cabbies from EJ Kids Care into the city. Sometimes via MacDonald's for a junior burger or directly to Bodyline and get beautiful salad plates from the downstairs take-away. The two spent many hours chatting to sweaty fitness participants, doing their individual weights programs or getting ready to school balls. This was always a high light for the staff who adored them and love to help them prepare for the big events. 
The kids would often curl up inside upturned Aussie Step boxed and fall asleep whilst we would train models to do complex aerobic moves for fashion shows. Then be carried up to the car by some burly muscle-bound gym-junkies so that I could take them off to bed.
These were wonderful times looking back at them now, but they were "bloody" tuff back then. Many a night would see me in bed way after 2 and up again at 5am to start it all again. I was very strict on my income only taking the barest amount to keep the business profitable. This meant driving a "death trap" but more on that beast later.
I had a solid plan that I stuck to with my goals and tried NEVER to deviate from them. I think that this worked out as we stayed in profit and had loads of happy patrons and energetic, fabulous staff. 

Our release was the Friday afternoon relax and Chardy's, then either complete hair colour changes courtesy of Clairol or ridiculously long acrylic nails. Then the inevitable drawing of straws as to who would take the 5pm aerobic class. Are those were the days!!!!

Global warming and my slant on it!

Some may think that we are going to save the planet by saving the polar ice caps, others feel that we should cease all logging and tree culling in the Amazon whilst there are those who believe in the hefty debate around green house gas emissions and the need for carbon tax. I view a way to keep this planet going from a different slant and that is one of cultural awareness. 

To me this doesn't mean social tolerance though it does help in the big picture, it should be all about communication, understanding and open-mindedness. The best way that I have found to achieve this is through living with the many, many students' from other countries that have slept under my roof, dined at my table as members of my family and played with my kids. The same ones that ring me to wish me Happy Mothers Day or Facebook me at Christmas time.



For the last 20 years, off and on, we have opened our doors to students from countries including Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Macao, China, Chilli, Brazil, Venezuela, Colombia, Argentina, France, Switzerland, Togo (Africa), Germany, Italy and Saudi Arabia. Most of these have been in the last 4 years and occasionally taking as many as 4 students at a time (to help out the English Schools for the odd disaster), which sometimes means that Harry does spend the odd night sharing my bed. 

Now many people ask "how can you possibly have strangers in your house", or "what about doing all that cooking" they say, "when do you get any time to yourself" is also a common question. Well yes there is definitely some negatives in having this kind of lifestyle, currently I have one boy who eats nothing but Chicken or eggs, one who hates vegetables and a new boy who is simply terrified and home-sick (which should ease in a few more days). But let me tell you the benefits far out way the toil in the kitchen, driving to and from trains at all hours and the many, many Lone Pine visits. 

Sitting around the dining table and talking about each others families, how and what they eat, saying 
'grace" in all cultures and more funnily teaching each other how to say the others "grace" is priceless. We have many hours of laughter, great BBQ's, some wonderful meals prepared for me such as Okonumiaki,  Sushi, Kim Chi with the hottest Korean dish I have ever eaten, even traditional Spaghetti Bolognaise from Fede the gorgeous Italian boy and some amazing cheese ball thingo's from my wonderful first Brazilian Luiz. He is now married and is a father to twins, and had sent me invitations to the wedding, and photos of his children (one in Utero and the other photos once born) -  I am the Aussie grandmother and still his Aussie Mum.  


My family has been very tolerant of my need to find ways to make ends meet by taking students but they have got far more value than any financial security that comes with this endeavour. The school system couldn't offer anything so detailed and interesting, when you sit and share Xmas with as many as we have, to barrack with them at a Reds V Waratahs game, or eating pizza and drinking red wine whilst yelling at the State of Origin. The option of teaching my kids how to swear in a dozen languages, whilst we teach them how to "crack" a stock-whip or even discussing the Koran Vs the Old Testament with a Saudi and coming up with both healthy debate and agreement of sorts is something that you just can't put any price on. 

Alex, Lizzie, Harry and I are no longer afraid of what might be out there, we believe in seeing things at face value, call a spade a spade I have always said. If you are an idiot if isn't selective on race, culture or creed, it seems to be determined upon lack of awareness and the inability to sit side by side with anyone on this globe and just simply "chewing the fat".


I also believe that we have touched each one that has spent time with me, my family and the others under this roof.

The 3rd in the series of those children of mine

It's interesting but writing about my 2 grown up children was far easier than writing about the youngest. I don't know if it's because he has had less experiences to date (though his life has certainly been full of ups and downs), or that at some point I have to say that Master 14 and 3/4's is no longer a child but indeed drawing very quickly into manhood.

Harry aka Hazbag aka Harry Houdini aka Buzz decided not to listen to the nurses sound advice, "I was not ready to deliver" she said, "it would take more hours" in her experience so I was filled with Pethidine and placed belly down onto a bean bag. Not 20 minutes later Harry entered the world, me still on my stomach gulping huge volumes of "Entanox" or happy gas. So much so that I was hallucinating and was quite certain that the nurse said "I cant stop the bleeding" - now I am an ex Registered Nurse and had spent almost a decade caring for the life threatened in ICU @ Royal Brisbane Hospital so I had it all under control. I told my husband that the nurse needed to put up a saline drip and give me 1 litre bolus. He nervously told her and she poo pooed the idea, then in my drug filled haze told her that if she didn't I would loose to much blood and die, again the weary nurse dismissed this crazed woman. At that point I had resigned myself that my husband would be raising our child by himself as I would be dead, I said my goodbyes, told Hugh that I loved him and to take care of our newborn. By now he was terrified and was demanding that the nurse put in the drip and fluids. At this stage the doctor finally arrived to settle the situation. Perhaps in all this lunacy it set the path for Harry to tread, one will never know but those who know and love him may just be nodding their heads in silence.

Now the funny thing about Harry is that he seemed to have more than one mother, in fact, a lot of my friends were at the "clucky" stage and so my house was filled with happy women well prepared to nurse him, share a drink and help ease the torture of sleep deprivation. Thinking back not only did he have some of my closest and dearest girlfriends but also some great mates including Tim (an army nurse/aerobic instructor) who would baby sit wearing one of my disgusting milk sodden tee shirts whilst I would get the shopping done. His theory and one that I adhere to is that Harry could smell me so he was settled. It worked a treat!

There is so much to tell about Harry that this small Blog couldn't even touch on, I will give detail later and hope that when he reads these memoirs later, then he will understand what an amazing young man he has become and that his tortured journey is one that has made him who he is.

Harry had severe Dyslexia which I guessed in grade 2 but we got diagnosed by grade 4, so horrendous was his condition that he both reversed and flipped letters and numbers upside down. I remember one day sitting him on my lap in front of my computer and playing with coloured screens to see if it would help. He told me then that not only did the colours make it worse, but that all the letters still had their tails wiggling, the letters j, y, q, and p never stood still. I told him that "he had to be smarter than anyone in his class, they all read normal boring words, he had to read moving ones so he had to be cleverer".  He felt terrible at Primary school and tried to do anything to get out of class, this included many naughty things but also very initiative schemes. A teacher in grade 3 told him "if your name goes on the black board 3 times you are off to the Principle" Harry got up and wrote harry, harry, harry (most of it reversed) and walked off to the Principle. In fact Mr Falvey was one of Harry's favourite teachers and would proudly take any completed work up to show him. He was mortified when the kindly gentleman finally retired.

Primary school was 7 of the hardest years of Harrys life and by Grade 6 I had resigned myself that he would not reach 18 years old. I was convinced that he would kill himself from the grief and desperation, a view that I later found out was reached by more than a few of the teachers. Buzzy's life changed at the start of grade 6 when "an angel of mercy" arrived at his school, her name is Greta and she has a masters in teaching and specialises in Dyslexia and other learning difficulties. She offered her time free for one student in the school that would most benefit and they rang me directly to come in and agree. He was at early Grade 3 reading and writing at this stage and by the end of Grade 6 she had brought his reading up to Grade 6 and writing to Grade 4, by the finish of Grade 7 he won the Nicky Mirvac award for the student who improved overall in all subjects. She has been the "light at the end of the tunnel" and still takes great care of him 2 afternoons a week, she has become, simply put, part of our family and I can't imagine not being with us for ever!  

Only time will tell how my youngest will go, but I have no hesitation what so-ever that he will definitely go somewhere wonderful. He told me that he would be asking the school if next year he could get up in assembly and do a stand up comedy skit, he has lightning speed wit and a great eye for the obscure and off-line. A great little mate that has come with me to Tassie, Fiji and many other places with my work. I am very, VERY proud of him!!! 

As an adjunct to this Blog, Harry is in Grade 10 at Kedron State High School and deciding what subjects he should choose in order to forge him into what lies beyond. Manual Arts and Technical Design are where his talents are taking him and I only hope that his passion for becoming a builder will lead him into a place within the hallowed halls of Brett's Timber and Hardware as I know that his Grandfather would be proud. 
Harry has progressed and is now completely free from the Dyslexia that haunted him as a youth. Through the endurance of both the master aka Dr Greta Kelly and disciple namely young master Harry - he can read as well as you or I - possibly with better understanding than most. 

The moment they enter the world part 2

Well, as I said, as a mum I looked back at the birth of my children, the way they entered this planet and the personality that attached itself to that new and beautiful being. Now as reticent as  boy number 1 arrived, my second wonderful creature decided to appear in what the doctor had stated was "a precipitous delivery", and this is my daughter Lizzie!

With a shock of black hair that rivalled Snow White and the lungs that matched Pavarotti, she has no less maintained that impact for the last 23 and a bit years. She too had the misfortune to be cursed with the dreaded reflux though was luckier than her brother in that I was prepared. Rather than forcing concoctions such as "infants friend" (which is a misnomer) and the ever popular "Gripe Water", I simply pulled out the trusty Bouncinette and there she slept for 12 weeks. I developed an amazing ability to sleep in a chair with my foot on  said mobile contraption. When madam started to squirm with that familiar burning pain and grizzle, I would bounce her, this would settle the demons that lurked in her oesophagus and she would drift back off. Many nights I needed to bounce her for hours on end and so vigorously that she would actually spring from her bedding, I then understood why the straps were on this make-shift Disney ride.  Now a days behaviour like this would probably be  looked on as "shaken baby syndrome"!! 

Lizzie aka Mousie or Loobie has always left her mark where-ever she goes, dynamic in determination, optimistic in adversity. With that kind of demeanour, luck has followed her like an omnipotent shadow or (as I feel) somewhat like her guardian angel. 


She has an amazing spirit that shines through and warms all who bathe in it. The negatives to this personality were a determination where she would wake, get up and start digging into the fridge long before my eyes would greet the dawn. More often than not she would open and eat every "Petite Miem" yoghurt, finger by finger; or paint the walls of her room with some unspeakable things or perhaps cut her hair, so much so that I had a lock secured to the fridge and barrel bolts on most of the doors to prevent too much damage.  A favourite was to paint rocks in gold paint and pass them off as the real thing or generously wrap up her brothers favourite Lego and gift them to others. 

Lizzie has always had the ability to see the beauty in all things, she is very hard to argue with as her values are always pure and kind. I had my second episode of home stay students when she hit grade 8, we had a sister school in Tokyo called "Kuki High". Not only did we have many nervous but excited Japanese girls bearing fabulously ornate gifts and teaching us all the pleasantly hello's, goodbyes,  thank you's etc.  and of course the many tears that leaving Australia produces. But this was also the start of Paula and Co's animal farm...




In an attempt to show off some of Australia's  fauna we took an outing to Bald Hills Produce Farm (because I was too much of a tight ass to pay for admission to Loan Pine or Currumbin bird Sanctuary) we ended up with 4 day old baby chicks and 2 fluffy ducklings. This was to entertain Lizzies needs to be a mother hen and later ended in the decimation of my lawn, 13 ducklings on a small urban block, chickens that roamed through my house, eating the cats food, and laying eggs in the pot plants on the back deck. The house was a menagery for about 5 years, I couldn't pen them and they enjoyed nesting on the verandah railing and being picked up and nursed by every child who called this house their home.


Moving forward to now and listing off her achievements would take too long. The précis being that she got her pilots license before her drivers' license, she has always been encouraged to follow her heart and if that meant learning how to breath fire, be a bouncer (door bitch) in night clubs, work in a stunt academy and jump into a mixed martial arts ring way before she completes her Degree in Naturopathy then she has my blessing. She (as is Alex) is more important to me than the blood pulsing through my veins and I would give my last breath to keep all my babies safe.