I went to Brisbane on the weekend and visited my old suburb of Paddington. Oh my love, how I’ve missed you. The intoxicating smell of freshly ground coffee wafting from café’s, the lure of the tiny boutiques selling everything I must have, the voyeurism of people watching and the excitement of the new – new boutiques, new antique store (LOVE IT!), new cafés – there’s always something new and fabulous. And oh how I enjoyed my life there – weekends were simply mine, all mine to enjoy!!! Waking up late, meandering down to my favourite café’s for latte’s and croissants (my naughty addiction) with a delicious bout of shopping on the return trip home followed by lazily reading my favourite fashion mags in the afternoon. Night time often brought walks up to the Barracks for a movie and a bite to eat or dinner with friends round the corner.
Lazing about at our old house in Paddo
So I was thoroughly excited to be heading back to re-visit my old stomping ground and catch up with old friends – it was all planned out (not by me of course, being the non-planner!) with friends booked in, shop-openings to attend and coffees to be lingered over and enjoyed. Yipppeee! But alas life with a baby never goes to plan (see this is why I’m a non-planner – what’s the point???) and after a sleepless night on Friday night I realize Lilybelle is coming down with something. After that, nothing goes right.
I won’t bore you with the details, let’s just say my longed for weekend away was a nightmare. Not all was lost – I did get to catch up with friends, though briefly, including my old friend Paddington and it made me miss a life now gone. Don’t get me wrong, I adore being a mum and I LOVE my precious baby girl – however I would by lying if I didn’t admit to wishing for some more time of my own and just occasionally being responsible only for myself. Oh and double income – when I could spend whatever I liked on whatever I wanted! Suppressing my shopping instinct (yes, it’s an instinct and part of who I am, I swear it!!!!) is just unnatural.
So by the time we left Sunday afternoon, I was feeling rather low – missing my friends and my old life on top of no sleep, a sick bub and a sick dad (that’s another story entirely) – and even questioning whether our move to the coast was the right one. Finally, with gritty eyes blearily fighting to stay open, we turn off at our exit and drive the last leg home. That’s when I notice the trees, the green spaces that you just don’t get in the city, the lack of traffic, the salt in the air and then the ocean, glittering blue and endless. And I realise, we did make the right decision – this is where our life is now, together, with our daughter, by the beach. And I’m happy again.