Coming Home.

I flew all the way back home to Australia.

To these guys.

Their new iPad has been put on a time-out twice already. The fancy orange Anthropologie kitchen timer bought to designate "turns" is already broken. I knelt down and brushed Rocco's teeth for him and it was the best most important thing I've done in weeks. Max is a long jump champion at school. I cleaned his bedroom because it was a pigsty, and didn't mind one bit.

I feel terrified and low. Dave's mum was minding the boys when we were away but she needed to be hospitalised and almost died. She won't be the same again. Our dog Mischka is still dead, buried near the veggie garden and my mind keeps thinking about the stages of her decomposition. I thought Jim was standing at airport arrivals on Monday, to pick us up. I see him everywhere.

Dave has shoulder surgery today, a cancer checkup next week ... and there's about seventeen other hard unbloggable things happening right now.

Life is bullshit.

I love the feedback and reception of my last blog post. Thank you - and a huge thanks to my husband Dave for taking all of the photos and giving me pep-talks before I approached people. What struck us the most was how much people WANTED to tell us their stories .... their relief and gratitude when we asked them about themselves.

So many people just want to be heard.

The past few weeks I've been lucky enough to cross the globe and broaden my outlook, again. Travel changes a person. I saw the top of the Empire State, the dancefloor of Sparklecorn, the eyes of the homeless, the best burgers in town.

And then? The plane didn't burst into flames and spiral into the ocean on the way back.

So I got to come home and watch a boy drink his milk.

I'm so lucky. So lucky.

::

Thanks again to Maybelline NY for the opportunity to attend BlogHer12 .. gave myself a makeover in the airplane toilet on the way back and came out looking markedly different than when I went in. MARKEDLY.