Handy hints for toddler travel

Travelling with a toddler is very different from travelling with a baby. While we did a bit of travel with Puddleduck when she was a baby, we realised a fully blown 2 year old was going to be an entirely different kettle of fish when it came to 2.5 hours captive on a plane. Especially when one of us hadn't slept the night before and the other was really quite unwell. We were going to need back up. And lots of it.

Step one: Food.

I know that strictly speaking food gives toddlers energy, but I firmly believe that if you fill them up enough they become a little soporific. Combine that with the hum of the plane and you just might see them drift off to sleep. Bear in mind I said might.

Step two: Supplies.

Make sure you pack plenty of supplies, Toys, books, games - basically anything that might hold their attention for more than a few minutes at a time. When you get to the airport - buy more. You can never have too much. Trust me.

Step three: Bring friends.

Toddlers like companions they can boss around. You tell them that they have to sit in their seat and strap themselves in for take off and landing and they tell their little friend the same thing. Generally this is where they will do lots of yelling at little friend to sit DOWN and stay THERE and wag their fingers in their naughty friend's face so people assume this is how you talk to your toddler. How else would they have picked up such negative parenting techniques?

Step four: Bring electronic entertainment.

The trick here is to look like you want to use it. Once the toddler gets wind you're trying to do something to amuse yourself on the flight they're onto it in a flash. It's the ants pants and bees knees all rolled into one. A guaranteed winner.

Step five: Be prepared.

Have plenty of nappies and wipes handy. You never know who might need changing. And how long that game might distract and amuse toddler.


Step six: Accept the inevitable.

They will fall asleep. The moment you land and not a second before.

Rain rain go away

I'm sure before we moved to Sydney I had heard people rave about the climate. Winters are crystal clear and perfect, summers are warm and sunny. So far though my experience has been that it rains. And rains. And rains.

Every. Single. Week. Since. We. Moved.

Not just the odd afternoon thunderstorm after a hot and balmy day, but steady, soaking rain at least twice a week for the past four months. It's starting to get a bit boring. I'm tired of pant legs getting soaked on the walk to work, I'm tired of raging about people's lack of umbrella etiquette and I am tired of, well, rain.

The odd rainy day is cathartic and restful. Summer storms are spectacular. Constant rain and drizzle is depressing. Frankly, I don't wonder why the Brits are a teensy bit unhinged. If this keeps up I will be too!

Perspective

Isn't it funny the difference a little perspective makes? I can't remember whether it was Mr Puddleduck or I who took this photo - oh no hang on, it was Mr Puddleduck, my iphone was the first victim of the evening - but at the time it symbolised the frustration of trying to dine out with a single-minded toddler who refuses to sit still unless it suits her purposes. We were trying to have dinner with old friends who were visiting from North Queensland and Puddleduck wasn't having a bar of it.

Despite having her own big girl seat and a ready-made audience she was determined to explore. I can't count the number of times the three of us climbed those stairs as Mr Puddleduck and I operated in shifts - one of us following the toddler and trying in vain to convince her to sit at the table for more than 30 seconds at a time, and the other catching up with our friends and trying not to make them regret their decision to start a family of their own.

What could have been a lovely, relaxing evening was tiring and frustrating. Neither of us felt we got to enjoy our time with friends and our thighs turned to jelly after the zillionth trip up the stairs. Throw in wait staff who seemed hell-bent on promoting a new millenium temperance society and we vowed never to try and socialise again with Puddleduck until she was at least 35.

However, after a few weeks we chalked it up to experience. Puddleduck turned out to be coming down with a nasty infection so that partly explained her contrariness (although not her boundless energy) and we realised we were expecting a little bit much of a two year old. So when I was flicking through photos tonight I saw this shot through new eyes - not the tired, grumpy eyes of a Mummy who had spent too much time following a toddler around Circular Quay, but through the eyes of someone who saw her strong, sturdy little miss taking on these step old stairs with the confidence of someone 10 times her age.

I remember her first encounters with steps as she scrambled up our steps on her hands and knees while we hovered nervously. Fearless as always, she soon mastered them and was looking for another challenge. Amazing the difference a change in perspective makes.

Restorative weekend

This weekend was exactly what the doctor ordered. After a few weeks absolutely full to the brim of travel, work and a sick toddler, Mr Puddleduck and I were about at breaking point. Mr Puddleduck was sick and exhausted after holding the fort at home with a sick, whingy and clingy toddler. I was run down and exhausted after too much travel in too short a period of time. Throw in an emergency hospital dash after stepping off a plane at 9am one Sunday morning and it was all a bit too chaotic for words.

I'm not entirely sure what it was about this weekend but it seemed blissful. Everyone was in a good mood (thank heavens for the return of our sweet-tempered little girl), everyone was happy to potter and everyone was simply delighted to be in each other's company. We played all the way upstairs - Puddleduck's favourite spot - we played downstairs and we played outside. We went for walks, we went shopping and we gardened. Even a rainy Sunday couldn't break the spell. In fact, I think the steady drizzle enhanced our ability to relax.

Even the inevitable weekend cleaning tasks didn't raise the usual resentment. All three of us simply pottered around over the course of the weekend. Puddleduck dusted and wiped, Mr Puddleduck vacuumed and tidied and I mopped and filled the house with as many flowers as I could lay my hands on.

We all woke up this morning still feeling refreshed and restored and ready to tackle the new week of work and school. Here's hoping the feeling lasts - or that next weekend is as magical as this one was.

Reading nook

We're fortunate enough to have quite a large and functional attic space in our new house - well, it will be functional as soon as we tackle all the boxes and 'junk' that has been dumped up there because there simply isn't room anywhere else for it. We're slowly de-cluttering though and this weekend I created this little reading nook next to the window. Our 'big' dining chairs don't really fit in our dining area downstairs so I have been busily repurposing them around the house so I was delighted to be able to use two of them in this little space!

With rather spectacular timing (I needed a rest) a lovely storm rolled in and I got to experience just what a beautiful little spot it is to sit and relax on a Saturday afternoon. Even with the windows flung open I was protected from the rain so I really felt part of the storm in all its glory. I think it may become my favourite nook in the house.

Birthday honours

I can't pretend I wasn't thrilled when Puddleduck announced she wanted to go to the beach for her birthday - having moved from a coastal town to a city at least two hours from the closest beach sand and salt air is a rare and much loved commodity in our household. I remember very fondly a trip to the coast at 39 weeks pregnant with Puddleduck for our sixth wedding anniversary. It was cold and windy but that only made it more beautiful.

Puddleduck hasn't been to the beach all that often in her two years but the sight of sand does send her into raptures and beaches with their seemingly endless supply of it are a little slice of heaven in her eyes.

I bought some cute paper cups for our picnic that I thought would be fun for all of us to drink out of - however, as it turns out they made for excellent sandcastle-makers! We all had a ball making random creations and Puddleduck was simply enchanted by the concept of filling them with sand and making turrets.

The best bit though? Knocking them over afterwards!!

Settling in

Phew - it's been a crazy 4 weeks but I think we can say we've settled into our new house and new city. There are still a few boxes stashed away in cupboards but for the most part everything is in its rightful place.

Of course I have to confessthat since writing those first two sentences another 4 weeks has slipped by in a blur of unpacking (ok, maybe I was a little generous when I said that 'most' things were in their rightful place), exploring and continuing our love affair with this glorious city. The weather hasn't been entirely cooperative, but it has put on some spectacular spring days - including an amazing golden day for Puddleduck's 2nd birthday - so we really can't complain on that front.

Our house, while small is surprisingly functional. I will refrain from regaling all with the stories (yes, I did mean to use the plural) of Mr Puddleduck falling down the stairs. it hasn't happened for a while so I'm just going to put it down to overexcitement about our new digs and leave it at that.

We've had our first visitors and are now planning an assault on Ikea for a suitable foldout couch to prevent repeating the Great Air Mattress Debacle of 2010. We've also realised that boxes and spare rooms really don't work terribly well when those spare rooms need to be used for guests. They don't give the space a jaunty, attic-y feel (theory Mr Puddleduck and I tossed about for a while as we tried to spin our way out of our disorganisation). They just make it hideously crowded and unpleasant.

Despite being fairly dedicated couch potatoes, we've walked to school and work pretty much every day since we moved and our walks home as a family are one of our favourite parts of the day. Puddleduck is excited to tell us about all the things she did at school and we're just generally delighted to be going home from work! I also don't think you've really lived until you've walked up Oxford St pushing a pram and singing the Alphabet song with a toddler very determined to be noticed. I dare you to try it one day. I think we're now known as "the Alphabet family".

We're going on a house hunt

Saturday number two of the Puddleduck Family house hunt began with decidedly less enthusiasm than Saturday number one did. I'm not sure whether it was the long week we had all had or whether the reality of house hunting in Sydney had sunk in and dampened our naive spirits. Whatever the reason, our approach to the day was far more prosaic than it had been just a week before.


Nevertheless we were determined to do this thing properly. We arrived for the inspection so early I am fairly sure the existing tenants thought we were casing the joint. Apparently our best "act casual" routine simply made us look like we were loitering with intent. Fortunately the agent wasn't witness to this so he was perfectly polite when we bailed him up a full fifteen minutes before the inspection time armed with our "responsible tenants' smiles and offering handshakes all around.

Puddleduck was tired and crotetchy, but thankfully distracted by lots of stairs to climb. Mr Puddleduck and I sent about filling out application forms with as much speed as we could possibly muster. You see it turns out that most agents don't accept the online application forms through Domain. Sigh. Another point to add to the list of "things I wish people would tell me about moving to Sydney instead of harping on about how expensive it is".

Anyway, an experienced looking house-hunter swaggered in about five minutes after our charm offensive began and he immediately offered a deposit. DAMMIT. Amateur mistake from us. Mr Real Estate Agent said he would give him an application form but would get back to him on the deposit. Phew-ish.

I say "ish" because people have now started swarming through the door. They're all terribly friendly and smile nicely at Puddleduck blocking their route up the stairs (I swear we didn't put her up to it). Fortunately I was able to 'help' a few people and explain that the open space at the top of the first level was the study/ third bedroom. Perfect for a couple with a toddler, not so much for a group of girls wanting to share a house close to the shopping Meccah of Oxford St.

A full half hour after we first arrived we waved goodbye to Lovely Mr Real Estate Agent having outlasted all other potential tenants. We'd both been out onto the street a few times with Puddleduck and were confident no more people were on their way so we could leave safe in the knowledge we were the first to arrive and the last to leave. That had to show commitment, right? Our wallets were also significantly lighter having proffered up a deposit on the house that Lovely Mr Real Estate Agent told us would take it off the market while he checked out our references. I wonder briefly if I should have included a reference from Mrs Anderson my Grade One teacher who really liked me. Probably not, I think she also said I didn't like sport. That's fairly unAustralian of me.

After we left we checked out the 'hood on foot for a while and then we headed to check out the next place on our list. It was, um, not so salubrious. A lovely looking facade if you ignored the giant graffiti tags on the front wall. We both immediately concluded that this would freak Grandparents out in a very serious way when they came to visit and struck it off the list.

Having put all our eggs in the gorgeous Paddington basket we decamped to Bondi for fish and chips and toddler leg-stretching. Rain threatened for our entire drive there but once we hopped out of the car the sun emerged from behind the clouds and a simply perfect Bondi afternoon emerged - so did a Police Rescue helicopter to the absolute delight of Puddleduck!

The parting of the clouds has to be a good sign, doesn't it? Not to mention the police helicopter ... I mean what's a move to Sydney without the odd police rescue in the neighbourhood?

Step One - Take Two

We're making another pilgrimage to Sydney this weekend to try and find a new home. Actually at this point we're probably also going to keep an eye out for anything that looks like it might be a half-decent place to squat. We have a friend in Brisbane who has just begun 'squatting' in chambers as he launches his career as a barrister - what a shame he's not in Sydney so the six of us could squat with him! I'm sure barristers chambers are a pretty nice place to crash.

We're more prepared this time. None of this taking applications with us to inspections - that's for amateurs. This time we're applying in advance and will use inspection to sweet talk agents. Here's hoping this approach is more successful. Oh, and I'll make sure I take a suitable container along for the ride in case Mr Puddleduck needs to pee again.

What are we leaving behind?

This is where we're leaving. The nation's capital. This building is both my office and Puddleduck's second home. She's grown from a tiny little banshee with screams capable of causing the marble walls to shake to a confident, happy toddler behind this grand facade. The security guards know her and the cafeteria staff have her babycino waiting for her at morning tea time - or at least they did before the contract changed providers, but that's a whole other story (without a happy ending).

She was a foundation member of the Parliament House childcare centre and has truly blossomed there. From the hungry banshee (I'd visit every two hours to breastfeed her) who spent sitting weeks in daycare and non-sitting weeks in the office with me to the running, jumping, leaping chatterbox who now spends four days a week with her daycare friends, she's grown up considering it her own personal playground.

Mr Puddleduck and I are both North Queenslanders through and through so the seasons completely enchant us. In Canberra it is uncanny the way the leaves turn orange smack bang on the first day of March heralding the arrival of autumn and while winter threatens all through May it's not until 1 June that it settles in.

Then there's our house. Over the five years we've lived there it's evolved into a real expression of us and what we love. Bookshelves galore, wooden floors, a wine cellar and a deck built with our own fair hands. Well, Mr Puddleduck's fair hands. Puddleduck and I offered our usual helpful suggestions and assumed 'site management' roles.

At the end of our street is a lake inhabited by all kinds of bird life and even on freezing cold winter mornings nothing gives Puddleduck greater pleasure than a walk to visit the swans and force feed them great chunks of bread. She positively dances with delight when the swans arrive with cygnets in tow.

Hmmmm. I'm beginning to wonder if we really hav taken leave of our senses to contemplate leaving all this behind?

Hoarder's horrors

It's not news to anyone who knows me that I hoard. Not in the newspapers stacked up piles all around the house sense, more in the "oh I can't throw this dress/teapot/book/pair of shoes out because it might be exactly what I'm looking for one day and besides it's really cute" way. So the arrival of a skip for our mammoth decluttering effort was met with mixed emotion.

Mr Puddleduck also greeted it with mixed emotion. Not because he doesn't like a good old-fashioned tidy out, but because he knew that the lion's share of the 'skipping' would rest with him. This is primarily his own fault as he is a little finicky (understatement of the year) when it comes to how things should be arranged in the skip. Essentially, he likes things stacked neatly whereas I adopt a more 'toss it over the side and leave it where it lands' approach. According to him my approach is simply not to be borne and therefore Mr Puddleduck is left in charge. With the odd helpful suggestion thrown in by Puddleduck and I from our peanut gallery of two.

Puddleduck greeted the arrival of the skip with unabashed glee. Until she saw some of her old and beaten up things being neatly arranged in there by Daddy. Then she launched a rescue mission (just in case there was any doubt she was her Mummy's daughter). Things went in, things came straight back out again. They went back in and with even more determination they were toddled right back out again. In the interests of family harmony and keeping his blood pressure within an acceptable range, Mr Puddleduck abandoned any further attempts until Puddleduck and I were safely packed off to swimming lessons. When we got home he thanked Puddleduck for getting me out of his hair - apparently my incessant toddling in and out of the skip rescuing her toys was terribly counterproductive!

Step One - an aside

It's a generally acknowledged fact that in order to get your own little slice of Sydney you have to part with a few vital organs even if you just plan on renting. However, it seems everyone who knows us thinks that this fact has completely passed us by. I can understand strangers or people with whom we have a passing acquaintance offering up the helpful phrase "Sydney's expensive" and even a personal anecdote about a sister's husband's cousin who lives there and rents a studio apartment for $3000 a day, in fact I almost appreciate their willingness to enlighten us should we be about to stumble into the Sydney real estate market without any forewarning.

But for those who know us and still feel the need to state the bleeding obvious ... why not tell us something useful such as 'sell your car because there's no way in the world you'll find a park within 5kms of your house even with resident's parking'? I mean we're on Domain daily sending potential properties back and forth - we've figured out that at least one of us is selling a kidney in Thailand for the bond.

I think the problem is everyone who knows us knows that we're not the slumming it types. Yet we're both totally on the same page with this move - we're happy for a total dive in the right location. It's a crying shame that no real estate agents with dives in the right area are remotely interested in responding to our emails or phone calls.

In the interim, we have both agreed to compromise on things. Mr Puddleduck no longer views a garage as essential and I no longer view a spare room as necessary and we've both concluded space is a luxury we can't afford. Whatever place we're fortunate enough to be accepted for is going to be treated as a hotel room - a place to crash. Sydney is going to be our house and the six of us are going to spend our days exploring its every crevice and then stumble home, exhausted, into our tiny little box called home. We can't wait!

Step One

Step one is find a house. I like that this one sounds so simple even if we all know it is anything but. Just saying it out loud does not cause me to start rocking back and forth and groaning in that way that other steps do (ie cleaning and decluttering our current house - truth be told I've not said that one out loud yet, just typing it makes me want to curl up into the fetal position and stay there until it is all over).

Yesterday was day one of the on the ground search - as opposed to the obsessive stalking of Domain designed to make me feel productive and organised. We left home at the crack of dawn with The Wiggles providing backing vocals for our trip. I confess I was absolutely dreading the drive as Puddleduck had been nothing short of monstrous in the car the day before and that trip only lasted about twenty minutes. However, she was an absolute trooper and made the pair of us look like road trip amateurs in comparison. In my defence she wasn't trying to be navigator for Mr Puddleduck. Enough said.

We had four properties we were really keen to inspect and just to make it all the more challenging the inspection times clashed. The Glebe property was open at the same time as the Paddington one and the Darlinghurst one was open at the same time as the Balmain one. Showing one of his occasional flashes of brilliance Mr Puddleduck had suggested we arrive early and scope them all out before deciding what ones to inspect and what ones to ditch. As opposed to my far more fatalistic approach which was to immediately force ourselves to choose favourites.

We started in Paddington and approved wholeheartedly of the outside of the property - a lovely green end terrace with a big patio. Beautiful. Off we headed to Darlinghurst where we also throughly approved of the outside of the property and the street it was in. Glebe was next on the list - the house there appeared to be big and well-loved from the pictures on Domain. We'll never know, however, as Google Maps completely failed us and we still haven't a clue where Charles St Glebe might be.

Having run out of time to make it across to Balmain before the Paddington open house we decided to head back to Paddington in plenty of time for that inspection. Just quietly we were a little pleased with ourselves and this eminently sensible plan of attack - we could find a park, fill out the applications forms and Mr Puddleduck could find somewhere to go to the toilet while I changed Puddleduck all without any need for a mad rush (the usual way we operate).

Simply brilliant theory and definitely deserving of the figurative pats on the back we gave ourselves. Shame it didn't hold up quite so well in practice. Actually, it didn't hold up at all. We left Paddington knowing exactly why Paddington-dwellers are so fit and skinny looking - they walk everywhere for fear of losing their car space - and with Mr Puddleduck still needing to go to the toilet.

On the bright side, we were on track for making the Darlinghurst inspection in plenty of time. Except that for some reason we decided to try to find the illusive Glebe house again. I know. I know, I know, I know.

Anyway, we did make it back in time - just. AND we made it back without either of us calling a family lawyer to book an appointment although it was a close run thing. On reflection, probably not as close as it was when I was trying to direct Mr Puddleduck around Paddington without Google Maps and simply relying on my innate sense of direction.

Now I know that the Sydney rental market is the stuff of legend. I know that properties are hard fought for but I did not expect the street to be swarming with quite so many potential tenants as it was. Bizarrely, we had no trouble finding a spot to park. It was even a legal carpark!

Mr Puddleduck was quite open to the potential of the property despite the fact that every spare nook and cranny had been converted into bedroom space for what seemed like close to two hundred dreadlocked existing tenants. I don't mean to imply he usually has no eye for potential, rather that he is not as romantically inclined as I am when it comes to houses and is used to nipping my romantic tendencies in the bud for all our sakes.

Getting the thumbs up from him I accosted the agent and put in our application. Accompanied by a wad of documents thicker than War and Peace. You know, proving we were who we said we were and that despite no rental history we weren't remotely dodgy and definitely people you'd want to rent to - the paper equivalent of a trustworthy and convincing smile. I threw in one of those smiles for good measure. Mr Puddleduck probably would have too if he hadn't been hopping up and down in his desperate need to pee.

We're moving

That's right, we're moving. To the Big Smoke. Faced with the reality of such a mammoth move I'm not entirely sure what possessed us. Ok, I'll be honest - what possessed me. I know what possessed my long suffering husband - the desire to see me happy and enthusiastic about work and not moping about threatening to do crazy things like become a stay at home mum. Not that that in and of itself is a crazy thing - what's crazy is me proposing to do it. It's a bit like Hulk Hogan proposing to take up ballet. Utterly deranged. I should clarify that this is not because of latent workaholic tendencies on my part - far from it - just that I am not stay at home material even if you ignore my frightening lack of domestic talents.

I digress. Mummy, Daddy, Puddleduck and her three fur-sisters (Daddy has them on notice though - any peeing on the couch between now and move day and they're getting sold with the house) are moving to Sydney. We've half made a list of everything that needs to be done between now and THE BIG DAY but frankly it frightened us almost to death so we've adopted a 'one step at a time' approach for now.