seasonal envy disorder

via

Being a blogger, and an expat living in a country where the seasons are reversed, I seem to suffer from seasonal envy pretty much all year. But it gets so much worse in December! Every time December rolls around I feel like Dylan Moran talking about Ireland and the war: "What? What? There's a what on? Oh really? What I'm not dressed... Oh, oh, it's all over... oh well!"

I blame it on the weather. I find it nearly impossible to get in the spirit, and you know... buy gifts, put up a tree, decorate, bake gingerbread cookies etc, when it's 35 degrees outside and I'm heading to the beach. Christmas in Australia is, to me, as out of place as an elephant in Antarctica.

I also happen to be a Christmas baby, so this is the one time of year where all my celebrations are packed into a 12 hour period. Yet, I find myself wishing I was home listening to Sufjan Stevens Christmas carols, baking with my mom and watching the snow fall. And your blogs are not helping ;)

The funny thing is that based on your comments, I know that you have a bit of the same envy when you visit this space. I so often hear: "I wish I could go for a swim right now!" or "I want to see the sun!" So I don't really have a solution, I just felt like rambling. I suppose the solution would be to embrace Australian Christmas/my birthday for all of its quirkiness and stop wishing I was somewhere else. All I can do is try...

red & green

I just realized while putting together photos for this post, that I unwittingly spent the weekend taking photos of red and green, wherever I found it. Must be my attempt at feeling festive during an Australian December. 

This weekend we stayed close to home, only leaving to go for swims. During one of those outings, husband's mum gave us this awesome advent calender. It really is the only sign of Christmas in our home, though I'm hoping to either put up some branches with decorations like this OR this fabric from Ikea. How are you celebrating the arrival of December?

heat wave

 

We're in the middle of our first heat wave of the summer, and I'm not coping. I'm grumpy and lethargic,  and all I want to do is lie under the air conditioner eating popsicles. Other attempts at cooling off include: closing all skylights and blinds so no sunlight gets in, eating watermelon, swimming, drinking ice water, and letting the whirring of the fans lull me to sleep.

Here's hoping the cool change arrives tonight!

my life in iphone photos: round 23

my instagram username is: thislittleport

bump: 16 weeks

 The bump turned 16 weeks old on the weekend, and although you can see it in these photos, most peoples' response when I tell them how far along I am is: "Wow, you can't tell at all!" I'm actually looking forward to the stage where I look pregnant, and not just like I ate too much.

In other pregnancy news, this weekend we booked our doula as well as Calmbirth, a weekend birth preparation workshop. I feel really good about both decisions. There are so many choices to make surrounding pregnancy and birth (choices that many women don't seem to realize they have - though that's a topic for another post!) and it feels great to be ticking things off my list.

Yesterday was hot, and I felt it keenly. Even still, I pried husband away from the cricket to come to a friend's class at a new yoga studio, then cooled off with a dip at Clovelly. We took these shots after, until we, I, was too grumpy and hungry to continue. Ah hormones!

a happy list

Happiness is:

1. Buying yourself a new red lipstick on a crappy day.
2. Books that make you laugh.
3. A stack of pancakes for no reason at all.
4. Mango season!

It's been an uneventful, and slightly frustrating, week. Might as well celebrate the little things. What's making you happy today?

the yoga of closet cleaning

The weather in Sydney has been all over the place lately, but as I looked at my calendar this weekend and realized that December is less than a fortnight away, I decided to ready myself. We keep hearing that this summer is going to be hot and dry and, truth be told, I'm scared. I don't like Sydney heat in the best of times. We're already sleeping with a fan and keeping bottles of water in the fridge at all times, sure signs that summer is near.

On Saturday I packed away my wintery woollens, and pulled out crinkled summer dresses from the boxes where they've been hiding. I like the ritual of changing my closet as the seasons change. It's also nice to be reminded of how much I have, and see that I probably don't need any more (except for maybe some elastic waist shorts...). The theme of the month at Jivamukti Yoga is aparigraha, greedlessness. Yesterday one of my teachers, Keith, reminded us in class that the smaller our footprint, the more power we have. Live Simply so that others may simply live. Something to remember as Christmas draws closer...

finding inspiration

Today I'm finding inspiration in all of your interesting and insightful comments on changing your name. And in this nighttime stroll we took last night. But first, so many interesting points of view on marriage, family and the names that bind us.

I was a bit surprised to find that most of you did take your husband's last name, while just a handful took both or found a new name. The point of family solidarity came up often, as did the legal mess that double-barrelled names can cause. I totally get this, which is one of the reasons our dual citizen children should probably only have one name because their bi-continental lives will be complicated enough as it is!

Something else that came up quite a bit was using your middle name as a way of compromising. Interestingly, this is exactly what my parents did. I go by my father's last name and have my mother's last name as my middle name. I think it's likely that this is what will happen with our offspring as well.

Imogen Eve made the point that since most of us have last names passed down from our dads, isn't there something un-feminist in that? Yes, I think there is. Some Latin American readers explained that every child gets two surnames where they're from - one from their mom and one from their dad. But even in this seemingly egalitarian model, those names come from the paternal side. What's a feminist to do?

I could go on forever, but I'll cut myself off here. Me and my husband of the different last names went down to the sea last night to catch the sun going down through the clouds and take some photos. I am finding so much inspiration lately through the lens, and in this vintage dress that belongs to my mom.  Happy weekend friends!