Hello there poppets! / L Plate Mama

 This is my year, 2 is my number.  This year was my 40th. But like so many people are experiencing, this new normal is far from .... optimal. The pandemic hangs over us like a big black cloud, casting its shadow over everything we do, making us look harder for the light. And here I am, with covid, missing festivities, drinking an ocean of tea and swapping between Silent Witness, Dead to Me, and my current read, The Sentence is Death- yes there is a theme there. This year looking on the dark side: I had a 3 week headache which completely freaked me out, had to have an MRI which freaked me out it even more.     We all got covid. Then there was the terrible head cold that I caught on the plane to the UK and promptly gave to my Dad and Step mum.  Chops got covid in London, my nephew got chicken pox and we missed out on going to Wales.   Back in Aus my best friend left the country. I had minor surgery, which didn't achieve its aim, but still required 2...

 I've been thinking lot about family, about connection, love and loss. I'm a migrant, an immigrant, with at least two homes. The pandemic has made these two homes further apart. In this Australian home over the sixteen years, I've woven a friend family; strong and nurturing - mostly female - connections. We hold each other up, pull each other out, laugh and cry and do it all again.  The week my dear dear friend is leaving me. But that's me being selfish. She's going home, home to her first home, to be surrounded by blood family and the laugher of her grandsons (possibly crying too, but that's part of the wonder of children).  We've drank an ocean of wine together, and a galaxy of coffee. A library of messages have passed between us. We've called each other in the midst of panic attacks, we've given each other advice, told each other off, looked after each other's kids. Gone on road trips, and weekends away, had sleepovers. We've baked ...

My second-born loves our annual family camping trip. He talks about all year long. He tells people we've just met about it. It's a defining feature of his year, the sparkling jewel, and once he even expressed it is better than Christmas.  January 2022, the rolling chaos of covid smashes omicron on the world. It's summer here downunder, but this winter-loving virus decided that it was going to spread in this sun-baked land anyway. We are passed lockdowns, even with tens of thousands of new cases every day. I think people in Victoria would crack into little pieces if another lockdown was announced.  So, we must individually pick and choose where and when to take the risk of catching bloody covid. Knowing that if we couldn't go camping my little one’s heart would break, I minimised my risk in the run up, cancelling my yoga classes, skipping my beloved singing lessons and avoiding shopping centres and indoor gatherings. There was a potential close contact for Moo, but...