Aaaaahhhh!!! To have a day alone at home! I am very happy about this, to be honest. I get to wear no makeup or bra, I get to catch up on reading all the posts in my blog reader (it’s more like a wonderful virtual magazine, really), and I get to faff about on here with you.

There are a few posts I’d like to prepare today. I am sorry that I really haven’t had the time lately to maintain it all as much as I would like to.

As you may know, I have been busy working, socialising, and also spending time with family. That’s not to say that I don’t have any time to blog, it’s just, after working during the day, sometimes I feel that it’s more important to spend time with Dana in the evening, rather than staring at my computer screen until 1am.

Plus, I am a really shitty multi-tasker, so if I am trying to write, or edit photos, or think, or even scratch my leg, I can’t concentrate if there’s talking going on!

Anyway, today, I would like to share with you the reason I moved to Adelaide. I know I have touched on this all before, but it is really important for me that I keep reminding myself.

For my whole life I have missed my sister and my brother. When I was five, I moved away from Adelaide with my parents, and ever since then, have visited Adelaide a couple of times a year.

Every stinking time at the end of my visit, we would arrive at the departure lounge of the Adelaide airport, my sister and I would cry and snot and spit and sob and choke. Every. Single. Time. For YEARS.

I would then proceed to cry for almost all of the plane flight home, and then off and on for a few days after that.


THEN, my brother married a gorgeous woman, and had gorgeous babies, and so did my sister (except, she didn’t marry a woman – you’re not allowed to do that here in Australia. Yet. She married a man. But, she had gorgeous babies too.) And every week, I’d talk to my sister on the phone and she would tell me about this and that, and about how lovely it was to see the cousins playing together, and about how disgusting it was that Nicholas and Samuel (4 and 6 at the time) had just chased their dog around the yard whilst trying to piss on the poor helpless animal, and I would laugh.

But then after, I would just feel sad.

I didn’t really want my nephews and niece to grow up vaguely knowing that they have an auntie in Queensland. I didn’t want to miss them growing up!

I was sick of having to get re-acquainted with them every time I would visit Adelaide.

I wanted for them to be comfortable with me. I wanted to be nice to them when they cried, and to have impromptu emergency discos with them in the living room.

Living so far away, I missed out on so much.

I actually wanted to, for once, be sick of them. What a luxury!

I wanted to borrow clothes from my sisters, I wanted to have family dinners, and I wanted to be used for copious amounts of babysitting.

So, lately, that is what I have been thinking about. I realise that right now, I have exactly what I have always wanted. And, OH, how this makes me smile.

Even so much so, that occasionally, I have days that I just want everyone to go away! But, aren’t I blessed to have my family around and on top of me so much so, that I need some space.

I am so thankful for my beautiful family. They are fun, and awkward, and annoying, and just wonderful.

The other day, I got so frustrated with Nicholas, my eight year old nephew, that tears came out of my eyes, and then I ran to my bedroom, slammed the door, and sat on my bed sulking for twenty minutes. You see, he put his foot on my crumpet. The crumpet that I was going to toast for breakfast. His FOOT. And although I had instant big-sister-like rage at the time, it all really just makes me laugh.

Samuel, my six year old nephew, has a sense of smell about as freakishly accurate as mine.

Jayquin, my other eight year old nephew, despite the fact that he’ll never say ‘yes’ to being asked for a hug (rather, he runs and screams, arms flailing), actually LOVES it when you just grab him and squeeze him and cover his little round cheeks with smooches.

And Sydnee, my 1 year old niece, well, you all know a lot about her.

Dana and I live in a medium sized three bedroom, one bathroom house in Adelaide. We share it with my sister, and her two sons.

And a lot of the time, I am really freaking sick of it. This makes me so deliciously happy.

(From top – bottom: Samuel, 6yo nephew, Michelle, sister, Nicholas, 8yo nephew, ME.)


6 Responses to “Being Sick of you Makes me Happy”

  1. Kristie

    This is one of my favorite photos of yours to date….and that’s saying something, because there’s some pretty spectacularly amazing ones!

  2. Aly

    Ahaha… I remember that photo on the bed. Gosh i love your family so much. It makes me so happy when everyone is around and having a good time. Reminds me of what my family used to do till a lot of things happened and now i don’t get to see my family anymore. Im thankful everyday that im part of your family and im looking forward to spending more and more time knowing i have another family that cares :) everyday i wish i could see my auntie and uncle. I have done the whole “Crying at the airport because you didn’t want to see a love one go for a long time at 12 years old” except i didn’t get to see her ever again which is sad but every year i hope to see her again :)

  3. Michelle

    Life is so much better with you in it every day. I Love that my boys think you are my daughter, they havent quite workied out that this means you would be their sister, and who your father is… Anyway.
    Wailing in Airports is an experience I do not miss, if im lucky enough and dont hold on too tight to this experiece hopefully those dreadlful, snotty, vagina eye days are over!
    Im glad youre almost sick of us, we are clearly doing our job too well, it hasnt been that long! xxx

    • Jessica

      Michelle, I laughed out loud at your reference to vagina eyes. I fear that not many readers will understand the reference. Bahaha!

      To those of you perplexed (and most likely, repulsed) by this statement vagina eyes are when you have cried, or are tired, and your eyes get all swollen and watery and pink and bloodshot.

      Now you are not perplexed, just repulsed!!


  4. Charlene

    When I read this post I got a little teary, Jessica, because I moved to Toowoomba for the same reason: to be close to this crackpot family of mine, especially my nieces and nephew. And yes, sometimes I miss Brisbane.
    And yes, sometimes I want to bury the bodies of my family in places they won’t be found for decades.
    Mostly though, I just want to savour every freakin’ second of hugs and kisses and high fives and face pulling and silly dances and bad tennis and eating at the kids’ table and not being allowed to make decisions because the adults don’t even view me as a “responsible adult” and the kids DEFINITELY don’t view me that way – but they do tell me I’m the most fun adult they know, so I think that’s more important than being responsible (gag).
    I miss the crap out of you (that sounded better in my head), but I am so very pleased and happy and joyful for the love you’re living down in Adelaide.
    I’m voting this as your bestest blog yet, because it’s one giant heart.


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