The dressing gown.

I have never had another dressing gown, and I can't see that I ever will. I was twelve when i got it, and it's not really your standard twenty something's type of gown, you see it's covered in pictures of the Cookie Monster.
As I was packing away our wardrobe today for our new adventure I lifted my dressing gown and held it to my face. It's starting to ware thin but it still has a slight scent of cigarette smoke and wet dog . It took me right back to a time in my life.

When I was growing up I always ALWAYS wanted a dog. My parents had a dog called Sarah when my sister and were born and she passed away when I was 5 or 6. We had cats, but I've never been into cats. Besides, they were my sisters.
When I was about 11 my parents got my younger brother a dog for his birthday. It was a mix of emotions. I was so annoyed that he got a dog, but at the same time I was so excited to have a dog in the house. The excitement out weighed the annoyance. She was an old English sheep dog, just like Sarah was. We called her Shamozzle. As time went on I felt like she was my dog, she slept in my room and I knew I loved her the most.
I should mention my brother was only 7, and he did adore her.
But I felt like she was mine.
She was a pretty energetic dog, but we had a massive back yard and we played with her most days. I remember one time she was on heat and my parents told me she couldn't sleep in my bedroom, but I covered my floor in magazines and let her sleep there anyway. It turns out this would be one of her last nights with us.
Unbeknown to me, Shamoozle had been showing tendencies of a nasty streak. She was very angry, and my parents questioned to breeders as to why. Then got no answer. Unfortunately this streak mixed with heat was a recipe for disaster and heart break.
She attacked someone. And it was pretty nasty. And she was not calming down. And the vet said she's probably snapped and she's what they call a dangerous dog. So my parents made the hard decision to put her to sleep. There were so many reasons, we were young, she was so big, we lived opposite a school, they couldn't risk it happening again if they gave her away. They had to do it. But I was devastated. I begged them not too. I said I would fix her. But she couldn't be fixed, as we would later find out. The breeders had known of a nasty steak in their dogs but continued to inbreed the dogs to keep them "pure". This just enhanced the streak.
I just remember being so devastated I couldn't move. I loved her so much, she was my first real pet. I never wanted to get out of bed again. My Dad came in and he was devastated too and we cried together. Then my Mum, the brave one, took us all into our local shopping centre to take our minds off it.
It was that day that she purchased my sister and I the dressing gowns. I got the Cookie Monster and my sister got Elmo. I don't know if she's still got hers, but I still adore mine.

About a year after we lost Shamozzle we were shopping two days before Christmas. We lived on a farm at the time and my Dad wanted a golden retriever. On that day we walked past a pet store and for some reason we went in. That's when I saw Eevee, a Maltese Shitzu. I begged, and I begged, and I begged. But Mum knew Dad wouldn't want a small dog, plus it was two days before christmas and his business was exceptionally busy so there was no way she'd get through to him on the phone. Her phone rang. Dad had finished work early and was coming home, "oh and by the way Cas has fallen love with a dog. It's very cute. Yes, I know. Yes. Really? Okay, she'll be so excited. See you soon."
And that's when we went and got Eevee. Named for the Pokemon and her homing day (Christmas eve eve). She was a loyal friend for eleven years. Pandora and her had a very funny relationship, but Panda certainly copied everything she did and now is very much like her. Sadly last year we said goodbye to Eevee. My dressing gown still smells like a mix of her and Pandora, (with subtle hints of Oliver).

Pandora, Eevee, and a very pregnant me just weeks before Eevee left us.

It's funny how certain things evoke such vivid memories and can take you on such a wonderful, heart wrenching, journey down memory lane.

Our story.

Each year, on valentines we attempt to do something really thoughtful for each other. To us it's not about spending hundreds of dollars that we don't have on things we don't need, it's about bringing out the best in our relationship, you know the best days. Lets face it, we all have days where walk in the door and fall in a heap. We also have days when we leap into each others arms and smoother each other with love. On valentines day, we ensure it's the latter.

This year I made James a collage, as well as a little gift a comic.
Thanks to Frankie Magazine I was able to make a visual story for James depicting our lives together.

Our story.
Two lonely hearts, beating in sync. They entered a bar one fateful night. Little did they know where it would lead. Drink after drink, after drink after drink, they swallowed their sorrows with no knowledge of each other. One boy; destined to join the navy, leaving the weekend after next, celebrating with his friends, wanting for something more. One girl; working in a pizza shop, playing guitar just for fun, partying with her friends, thinking there must be more. A glimpse. A photo. No words. Another drink. A kiss. No response expected. A response. Another kiss. He leaves tomorrow. She's busy with friends. He calls, she answers. She doesn't normally talk on the phone, he doesn't have much time for phone calls between drills and duties.
She musters up her courage, she wants to know where she stands. It could have gone badly, she could have scared him off. But no. She's texts of course, too chickened to call. It's hard not being 15, not asking if they want to "go out." She asks, "friends or more?" He wants more. She smiles, "order up." Another Friday at work.
They continue to chat, she falls for him as he falls for her. She tells a friend that she is in love, her friend warns not to tell him, "you'll scare him off." That night he tells her that he loves her. Her heart stops, as does his. In sync once again.
Months after months they continue to fall. He is posted interstate, to Canberra, she is torn. Does she go, her friends say no but her heart says yes. He proposes, she says yes. "A long engagement", they explain, they've only been together a year and they are barely twenty. She goes interstate with him, she was always going with him. He is pleased but he knew she would, he always new she would.
They begin to build a home, their first home. Everything is so simple, but fun. Nothing like other relationships they've had before. They fight, of course they fight. But with every bad day another hundred good follow. A baby? They've been wanting one for a while and throw caution to the wind. Trying, without trying. No baby; months pass, then a year. "Next year we'll try properly, see a doctor, get an explanation." They get a dog, she fills the void. Their first baby. Pandora. A month later, the double lines; a baby.
Then a posting, a new location, a new home to build. They make a home, her belly grows, he goes to sea, her belly grows, she goes to Melbourne, her belly grows, he comes home, her belly grows, and then a baby. Their baby.
They didn't know they had more love to give, they did. So much more. To him, to each other.
Everyday a new adventure. He goes to sea again. She misses him dearly. He does not miss her any less than he once did, instead he has more longing in his heart. They survive, he comes home. This happens a few times more.
They wed in the winter, on their fourth anniversary. She takes his name, he has already taken her heart. It's relaxed, very them. No big dress, no church. But them, and most of those that they love. Perfection. Life gets easier once they are married, their relationship does not change one bit but she is trusted more as a mother by society. Easier, not different between their four walls but changes on the outside. They love being married, more than they knew they would. They love their honeymoon, best time of their life. They took their son, of course they did.
Time passes, they fall into place. She finishes uni. He works so very hard.
A new posting, a new home, their old home; Canberra, their first home together. A new adventure. This time they do not need to build a home, their home is truly built between the four of them.

I'd love for you to share your story.

6/52

A portrait of my child, once a week, every week in 2013.

03.02.2013-10.02.2013

This week you reignited your love of the bath as you swam in it for the first time, emerged yourself in bubbles, and splashed around I glee. The shower is, once again, not enough but we're more than okay with that.

• We went to the park everyday to escape the apartment.m
• You've watched more and more of your toys be packed into boxes ready for the big move.
• Your sleep has gone hay wire yet again.
• You played with other boys at the park.
• Your love of books and words continues to grow.
• You've stopped having a tantrum every time you hear the word no, but when you do OH BOY do you lose it.
• You came up to me, said Mum and gave me a hug. My heart still skips a best thinking about it.

You have become so affectionate this week, you cuddle us often and you crawl up on the couch and sit on my lap. You wiggle in between your daddy and I on the couch commanding our attention and cuddles. Your kisses are the biggest and sloppiest symbols of love I've ever experienced. You are so happy to be in our grip, which is new to us but we certainly are not letting this phase pass without enjoying every single second of it.

I love all that you are and all that you continue to become.

Love always.

Mama J

Melbourne is the town we deserve, but not the town we need right now.

If I could move home to Melbourne I would.

James and I at the Roof Top bar in Melbourne circa 2009.

In a second, in a heart beat. We'd be there; Oliver surrounded by his grandparents, our oldest and dearest friends would live just around the corner, the coffee would meet our standards- everything would be perfect.
But we can't, and I know it wouldn't be perfect. But damn I miss my home town.

I know the reality is after we'd move home we'd be doing all these things we dream of, for a while. But then it would become normal. We'd settle in, take the proximity for granted and forget what it's like to long for home.

One of my best friends and I always lived an hour plus apart. There were years that we only saw each other once or twice. Now we see each other at least four times a year, and we don't take a second for granted. Our quality of time together is much more important.
I call my parents every two to three days. I actually talk to them more now than I did when I lived there, we interact on a more personal level. I know if I went back we would chit chat and fall into old habits. I know that I could see them all the time, so I probably just wouldn't. I, again, would take it for granted.

I tell myself I'd never take it for granted again. I tell myself I'd go to Mum and Dad's every Sunday for a roast. I tell myself I'd see my friends every weekend. But the reality is we have all moved on. We are all still very close, but the demographics have changed. My place in their lives had shifted, as has theirs in mine.
Whilst I know the reality of it all, I still long for it.
Yesterday my brother had his gallbladder removed. I know it's a fairly standard procedure but I just wish I could have visited him in the hospital.
James' youngest sister turns six next week. I posted her present on Thursday. I wish we could be there to see her open it. The last time we were there to celebrate her birthday she had just turned two. That's four years of missed birthdays. She wouldn't have a birthday memory with us in it.
It's just the little things, the things that used to seem so simple, that I long for the most.

But I don't actually regret a thing. I don't ever regret packing up my life and moving interstate with James. I certainly don't regret any of the friends I have met a long the way, many of whom I know I will be friends with for years to come. And many who once again I have moved away from and will move away from. I don't regret that without this lifestyle we wouldn't be able to give our son all that he needs. That's is the navy life, with all it's pros and cons. It's just the way it is.

I know Melbourne will always be home. I grew up an hour out if the CBD, and whilst I would like to move a little closer in I know now that I am not cut out for inner city life, certainly not inner city Sydney life. I want Oliver to go to school in Victoria and we are hoping to be back there in time for him to do do. Whilst that is the dream we are not simply going to just move back, if the time is right and the feeling is right we will. But I know things will never be the same. I know we wouldn't be going back, you can never really go back.
But I'd love to go home.

Right now we are planning our next adventure back to Canberra. I'm excited to go back to many friends and an easier lifestyle. I am excited to get my husband back. I'm excited to be three hours closer to Melbourne.

Sometimes I wish we could just walk about from it all. Start again, from scratch, but at home. But then I catch up with a friend or I see James accomplish something at work and I know this is what is best for us. Maybe not forever. But for now. This is the life we chose, the paths we took have taken us here.

Whilst I wish for many things in our future I am trying to take it day by day and realising that there is no where else I'd rather be than surrounded by my loved ones. Thanks to this lifestyle I have loved ones in three different states. So if home is where the heart is, then I am a real estate expert.



nb. the title of this post is a parody of a quote take from The Dark Knight (2008), Lt. James Gordon: Because he's the hero Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs right now...