Five go away together
I hate the thought of people reading what I am about to write in their homes and thinking it sounds silly. People who dream of travelling in Europe, who long for beautiful views and gorgeous climates and new experiences. But my reality is my story and I feel the need to write the words that go with how I’m feeling now. If you choose to read along I hope you understand that I’m not ungrateful, just a bit tired and emotional.
We’ve been on the road for two months now and somewhere along the way I’ve forgotten the meaning behind this trip.
We’re sitting here, all five of us, at a long wooden dining table in an old stone house in Tuscany. Bren is sewing up Big Ted’s newest holes, the girls are writing articles advertising Florence to the world and I’m wondering what I need to do to get that creative buzz that will lift me out of this flat place I’ve fallen into.
I’m also trying not to tap too loudly so I won’t disturb the girls, and I’m trying to block out the music and chatting from next door. I’m trying to forget for a moment that my mum just texted me and told me she had a difficult day with her dad. I’m trying to ignore the fly that is buzzing around my head, and I’m trying to stop myself from putting a stop to this whole session and suggesting a visit to the pool instead.
So what are we doing here anyway?
Are we showing the girls the big wide world? Are we spending time exploring as a family while the girls still can and want to? Are we collecting inspiration for our own home? Are we getting as far away from our home as possible so we can see it with fresh eyes? Are we just simply tasting, smelling and walking our way around bits of Europe? Are we setting our girls up to be so far behind in school that they lose confidence? Or are we taking our girls out of the system and allowing them to be part of the School of the World? Are we spending money that would otherwise be used to fix up our house? Are we filling the girls up with different cultures and memories? Are we making the most of an opportunity? Are we making choices and taking risks? Are we just simply just escaping another dreary, dark Daylesford winter?
Travelling with three children is intense and wonderful and exhausting.
Watching our children’s little faces as they turn the corner of a street and are confronted with the most incredible church is priceless. Listening to their little voices pointing things out to each other, and thinking about the way that they seem to gobble up the history and culture is extraordinary.
But then having to deal with the meltdown at the other end is exhausting. Having to make decisions that will please everyone is not always possible. And making a plan that will keep those three children of three very different age groups engaged and involved is a challenge.
Which brings us to our week in Tuscany. Our first week out of a city in what feels like weeks.
Our plan for this week is to slow down, to discover the countryside, to catch up on some reading and writing, to make a plan for our last few weeks on the road, to stay a bit still and to work out how we are all feeling, what we all need and how we can arrange that.
But it seems that a terrible night of no sleep, on a mattress that has already been replaced, combined with our first morning off in I don’t know how long, has filled me with more questions that solutions.
At least the girls have some great pieces of Florence writing in their journals and Big Ted is all stitched up.
Ugh! Enough! Pool time.
PS. Yesterday I saw a snake.
PPS. I’m pre-menstrual as you may have guessed.
PPS. Blogger and flickr are giving me such a hard time with the spacing on this post and the hosting of my photos that I've decided just to give in and let them win this time. Ugh!
PPS. Blogger and flickr are giving me such a hard time with the spacing on this post and the hosting of my photos that I've decided just to give in and let them win this time. Ugh!