Its not news that we use cloth. It was at 8 weeks old that I realised our disposable nappies were harming the planet and it was better for everyone if we switched to cloth. I placed an order with The Goodmama and within a week I had fluffy mail on my doorstep. We have loved them ever since and are our go-to night nappy.

Our very first Goodmamas

I’m very excited and feel very lucky to have had my pictures published in both the Daily Telegraph and the Port News.

My whale pictures were sent in to our local newspaper for fun. I have had a picture printed there before. Its just a little section somewhere in the middle, nothing exciting. All of a sudden, my photograph from 2 posts down is printed on the front page & I’m being called by the Sunday Telegraph. I had a phone interview and days later, a crying baby and his whale friend were featured in the first pages of the paper.

There comes and goes my 3 seconds of fame. I’m waiting on the PDF for the Telegraph.

I always wonder how much to unload on here. I wonder if anyone reads or if I have myself an open forum. Truth be told, I’m not having the greatest day and I miss my husband terribly. I haven’t picked up my camera, made our Christmas cards or written Zane’s letter I promised. I’m sitting here, I look as though I have accomplished nothing but I am mentally exhausted.

Zane is still my little peanut.

When he was born I happened across the most beautiful bear hat and I knew that my baby’s newborn portraits had to involve the hat. I ordered it off etsy and waited what seemed like an eternity (in actual fact, it may have been just a couple of weeks) for it to arrive.
Photos were taken, the birth announcement was sent out. Zane was the cutest little bear, ever.

5 months later, the hat still fits with room to spare. He has grown, his face has changed but the hat is still a favourite and it is meant for him

I still need to write his letter, I do this every month and I have done the same for Ria. I hope one day they can reflect back on it and know how much they are loved.

Today my parents, Ria, Zane and I headed out on a catamaran to go whale watching. I still have vertigo, I’m getting too old for this.

After what seemed like an eternity of bobbing around, watching them from afar they came over to play when Zane started crying. They played for the longest time, rolling over and showing off. We actually had to leave them, I could have stayed forever.

On Fridays I take the kids to see my Nan and Pop.

Pop is 88 years old, quick as a whip and runs circles around many his junior. He is an amazing man, my father & Zane are his namesake.  He was deployed to Hiroshima in world war II for 12 months. Over the years on many occasions he has come out with a little phrase in Japanese, after all these years he can still recall parts of the language. I’ve heard stories since I was a little girl but never saw pictures, I didn’t know he had any until he mentioned them this week.

This morning I packed the kids up and headed over. Nan was out the back with my uncle’s mother enjoying the sunshine and a cup of coffee. Pop was reading the newspaper. I asked him about the pictures so off he trotted to the garden shed of all places and emerged with an old tattered album bound with packing tape and stuffed neatly inside two old plastic shopping bags. He tells me that they haven’t seen the light in years, I explain that the shed is no place for pictures as important as these.

He leafs through the pages telling me a little about each photo, some fall through the pages and I wonder why I’ve not asked about them before. I hear about the places they stayed. I see Sydney harbour, his mother waving her boys off, hotels fit for a king, mountains, New Guinea and finally the devistation after the bomb hit. Nan asks if theres a photo of Pop’s red convertible, she fell in love with both the car and Pop at the same time. We comment on how handsome Pop was, and how my father looks errily like him.

Pop let me take home the album today. I have many thoughts running through my mind and I can’t wait to sit down with him when its returned to talk about each individual photograph. There are hundreds. I hope to take photos of each one so that somewhere down the line, if they become lost, they can continue to be shared.