10/52

Once a week, every week, for 52 weeks

Jessica - The most special birthday EVER! Turning 15
in Vanuatu organised by a gorgeous friend of ours.
After our own private cultural experience,
including dancing, singing, spears, and a boat ride,
the village sang Happy birthday, then Happy long life to you.
She then cut a cake, and they presented her with a birthday present.
Very emotional moment, even for a 15 year old!

Mia - On a man made boat, being rowed down a little river in Vanuatu.
Enjoying the peaceful, serene experience,
and feeling super lucky that
it was organised, just for us x

Zoe - EXCITING! Our first ever family cruise,
with Nanny, Poppy, Auntie Lis, plus our little family.
The smile on this face says it all as we cruise on in to Noumea.

9/52

Once a week, every week, for 52 weeks

Jessica - a penny for your thoughts

Mia - clothes laid out on the bed ready
to put in a suitcase to
take on our first family holiday.

Zoe - enjoying the last
official year of childhood
before the teenage year hits

8/52

Once a week, every week, for 52 weeks

Jess - On her way to dinner with her friends
as an early celebration for her 15th birthday.
"Mum - do you have real pearls I can wear?"
Love that this teenager of mine doesn't mind being different x

Mia - We decided to use our Gold Class tickets
we received as a birthday present and take the kids with us.
What a great experience.
How will we ever go to a normal theatre again?

Zoe - this child makes me laugh!
She's never had a swimming lesson, then gets age champion
at the school swimming carnival.
She even broke the backstroke record!
 

7/52

Once a week, every week, for 52 weeks

Ok - so it's already proven I'm a little bit hopeless at 'commitment'. This year was supposed to be my year of change. The year I stuck to my promises to myself. The year I was going to finish off with a big, huge Yay, Me. 

I wanted to stick to the portrait a week, every week. For me. I wanted to stick to a sensible eating plan. For me. I wanted to get earlier nights. For me. I wanted to blog. For me. I just wanted to prove to myself that I could finish what I start... for... me.

I'm not sure if being a Mum - a working Mum (which is really what every Mum should be classed as anyway) - I'm not sure whether or not being a Mum automatically means we self sabotage. I know I do. I have a huge guilt issue - everything makes me feel guilty. I need to believe that it's ok to look after myself, along with looking after everyone else. It is ok to just be. 

I've just come back from our first ever real family holiday. And the best thing was the family time we spent together. It gave us all a chance to recharge our batteries, talk, laugh, dance, eat, play - adults and kids - together. I didn't need to 'look after' everyone. I just enjoyed them. 

Since I've been back, I've caught up a little with my pic a week - and realised that there is only one week I've missed. One week isn't enough for me to say, that's it, failed again. So here I am. There will be a little overload of the last few weeks of pics coming now. I'm not going to promise that I will be here each week. But I am going to promise that I will try. And that's good enough for me.

Jessica - after years of appliances, braces
and fortnightly dentist and
orthodontist visits,
the braces are finally
OFF! 

6/52

ONCE A WEEK, EVERY WEEK, FOR 52 WEEKS

Jessica - desperate to find some Mary Jane heels, and
couldn't believe her luck when she happened to
find these in the first shop she went in to at the Direct Factory Outlet.
Even better with a $20 price tag. But don't tell anyone.  

Mia - these eyes hold it all. They really are the window
to her beautiful soul. 

Zoe - so happy and excited that she scored
age champion at the school
swimming carnival this week.
Amazing the pride and joy a
trophy and ribbons bring! 

5/52

ONCE A WEEK, EVERY WEEK, FOR 52 WEEKS

Jessica - so style aware at almost 15 and in Grade 10.

Mia - so proud of this girl.
She started her new week at high school with her
head held super high,
a positive attitude,
and a beautiful smile on her face.

Zoe - my last primary schooler.
She got out of the car,and said
"It's a bit lonely walking up the hill by myself"
So used to having her little partner in crime.
I've always said they were like twins.

The life of a super trucker

There's a whole different language when it comes to trucking, that only other truck drivers understand - and their wives.

Husband "I'm doing a dollar, you do a dollar/ten and you'll catch me"
Me "Ok, see you soon"

Husband "Flash for Cash ahead" 'Evil Keneevil" "Double Bubble" "Candy Car southbound"
Me {slows back down to the speed limit}

Husband "Hook in"
Me "I'm hurrying!"

Being the wife of a truck driver isn't always easy. Truck drivers are perceived as being yobbo cowboys.  but he's not one of those truck drivers. He works bloody hard, my boy. I often talk to him at midnight (or later), when he is pulling up to sleep on the side of the road. And I can assure you that he is a log book nazi (the fine is too big not to be, which would include a very cranky wife), but permitted driving hours are long compared to a normal day job. For over twelve years, we go through the same routine of packing a bag, updating the iPod and ignoring the stomach butterflies. I've learnt over the years, to not pay too much attention to the drop in my stomach when I see the countless truck accidents that appear on the news, and he's learnt to always answer his phone. I've also learnt that truck drivers can cop a raw deal when it comes to current affair shows, because on the other side, you see cars tempting fate with trucks who they don't always realise, need to back off eighteen gears to slow down. I also understand that a truck on my tail, on a hill, is not because he wants me to go faster, but because if he loses speed, it's pretty damn slow for him to make it to the top. I know to never pull in front of a truck driver or to sit in his blind spot. I believe that education around trucks should be compulsory when going for a licence.

And in saying that, I've also been on the other side. I remember going on a family holiday at the age of 12, and the truck coming towards our car had taken the corner much too tight and tipped, on our car. It took nine hours for the highway to be cleared from that accident, and I remember the policeman saying that particular trucking company were known as the 'upside down' trucking company. So yes, there are cowboys - but it's unfair to paint all truck drivers with the same brush.

'Without trucks, everything stops'. The bumper sticker says it all and last week proved it.

Tuesday was a normal day with Husband leaving as per normal. Storms were predicted, but there didn't seem to be panic about major flooding, or cyclones. Until Ex-Tropical Cyclone Oswald.

Heading up the highway through North Queensland, Husband came to a stop. There was no way to get through the flooding, so the depot advised him to drop the load at another depot - then turn around and come home. And that's when Ex-Tropical Cyclone hit, which meant there was no way to get through, to come home. Stuck he was. On the side of the highway. For hours. And hours. Internet had gone down, so there was nothing on his iPad other than Magic Mike, Katy Perry and I Don't Know How She Does It (which I subtly advised him to watch) Loads of prime movers drove into the nearest town to buy food - until town started running out of food (because the trucks couldn't bring loads in) fuel stations ran out of fuel, Eftpos machines were down, so there was no way to get money to buy the food that was left. For 2 1/2 days that's where he sat.

Cattle Grazing Land now under water

Once that was open, the convoy of trucks made their way down the highway to the next stop point. And stuck they were - again. This time it had become clear how much damage had been done to the roads, and they were hearing reports that they would be stuck for anything from six hours to six days. SIX DAYS. On the side of the highway. With nothing other than dirty clothes and a couple of packets of chips. There was a clear lack of communication, with police attending the barricades only briefly, with not much idea how to handle the situation - other than write three thousand dollars fines for anyone who tried to run the gauntlet. The community school bus driver drove in during the afternoons to do shuttle runs to town so the truck drivers could get some supplies - my guess, being beer, but supplies sounded good.

The start of the convoy

So what do 40 hungry, smelly truck drivers do to kill time? Other than 5 thousand phone calls to their wives, reruns of Magic Mike and Katy Perry (I wasn't supposed to tell you that) and on and off power naps? Their primal nature takes over, and they gather and hunt.

Yep - my normally quiet, reserved Husband had a new sound of excitement in his voice during the 17th phone call. "I have a star picket!" he yells "I just need wire cutters"

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask.

He goes on to tell me that his new mate, Craig, drives a refrigerated truck with pork on board. Between them, they devised a plan to make a 'spit' and cook the pork. "Great idea" I say, with relief as visions of the movie 'ALIVE' had been haunting me, and I was sure my husband would be the first one they would eat. After they hunted down the pork, they went on to find a truck with groceries on board. Hazel, the truck drivers wife, had been talked into cooking up vegetables to go with the pork. So they found a trolley to hold one side of the spit, pulled branches out with trucks to build a fire, put the pork on the star picket, and poor George sat for hours.... and hours..... turning the pork. One of the trucks became the music station and the Bruce Highway Australia Day party started.

George perfecting the spit

Hazel - the super vege cooker

Night number three in the new location saw the party repeated with the other half of the pork being cooked. Apparently it was the best crackle ever. 

The smorgasbord!

The novelty wore off and there were loads of relieved truck drivers when the highway opened. But another 100 kilometres down the highway they came to another stop. This time, he booked into a motel.

After an eventful few days of being stuck on the highway, cooking Survivor style, manning the barricades, even a visit from Warwick Capper who wondered why they couldn't open the highway for him - because after all, he IS Warwick Capper, and a long trek back home, he has never been so happy to hear the words...

Clear back that way, cob. Drive it like you stole it. Roger That..

And I was pretty happy to see him. And the other drivers said Husband looked like he would be too tough to eat anyway x