Falling into range.

Body mass index. Name a more feared set of words when it comes to the weight loss world. I’ll wait… (although I would accept that ‘gimme fifty burpees‘ may come close).

Sitting in with my doctor back in January for my once yearly, much detested, checkup – we started talking about weight. Partly because I’d happen to found a bit more of it than I should have over Christmas (or the whole of 2018 for that matter) and partly because there is even more reason to lose it as I age closer to my midlife crisis point.

Being the daughter of my father gave me a lot of great things in life, but in terms of hereditary gifts – the ol’ “Eddie” genes as we call them, didn’t leave me much to brag about.

My father is the third generation on the ‘Eddie’ side to have suffered a heart attack by the age of 50… and inclusive of his own brother, my uncle, one year ago… the only one to have survived. This means, I’m next in the firing line with the only advantage now being that I know it’s coming.

My doctor kindly pointed out that we had an opportunity to change the odds in our favour if I was willing to make a few new choices and give myself the best chance at seeing 50 years (oh, god!) through. Undoubtedly I wasn’t all that excited about more lettuce in my diet, but he had a good point and I’m not one for ignoring good logic.

Now, breaking every womanly instinct and manner, I’ll tell you I weighed 79.8kg as I looked down at the scales between my toes that day – which for me, is the largest I’ve ever been in my young life. The horror must have been written all over my face as I had sat back down, because my doctor smiled gently and said, “Try to look at it this way…It’s the perfect starting point”.

And while I felt a little like bursting into tears the whole drive home, something seemed to click inside me driven by a sense of determination to not be the girl who had a chance to change and didn’t. No one wants to feel large, and I really did that day.

At a height of 166cm, my increase in weight had ensured my falling out of range from the green healthy bar into alarmingly orange ‘overweight’ area. And as a side note, I truely believe the person who created the BMI charts was male, because no female would have ever named the next range up from healthy, “overweight” – it’s far too harsh. But whether I liked it or not, it was a universal truth thanks to every BMI calculator out there, and perhaps the obtusely orange overweight indicator staring me in the face was the kickstart I needed.

My doctor had said the weight loss didn’t have to be drastic, or immediate, but to just aim for 75kg at first and see what happens. According to the BMI chart, ‘Healthy’ for my body sits somewhere between 50 and 68kg apparently – which seems like a lot, because it is. And I think there has to be room in there for common sense, because when it comes to being healthy, I feel like this can never be rightly limited to a numerical boundary. There are different aspects to being healthy, and not all of them revolve around weighing in at a certain amount. While my goal is to lose weight because I do need to (doctors orders, not just mine!), more than anything else, I’m just trying to fall back into healthy – in more ways than the BMI chart dictates.

So now, in my year of ‘happy and healthy’, I’m choosing to do things a little differently than anything I’ve done before. I’m introducing five habits to my life in the aim to establish a health as the motivator, and weight loss as it’s beneficiary. The goal is to find a cohesive regime for my body that doesn’t focus on getting to a specific numeric weight, but rather editing the edges of my daily routine to change unhealthy habits into better ones, and to see that transform into a healthier body – inside, outside and love-handles included.

FIVE HABITS TO CHANGE A LIFE

  1. plan and schedule
    This is a big one for me, and perhaps simultaneously the easiest. Anyone who knows me can vouch for the fact that I am a planner. I love lists and schedules, I live daily by them and love the structure they give to my life. But being a nurse means no two weeks are the same. It can be hard to fall into a rhythm or routine when my work life is both sporadic and unpredictable, interwoven with night shifts. So sitting down every Sunday night for an hour, be it at home after dinner, or on my tea break at work, I plan my week ahead. This helps me allocate time to exercise and plan meals for the next seven days. It gives me a road map to follow, and once I have it, I find an odd comfort in having a game plan. It also works to relieve a lot of the stress I have around all the things I want to do in providing a time for them. Planning and scheduling makes me productive and accountable, and I love it.
  2. do 30 minutes of moderate exercise a day
    I think of this habit as a way of becoming a better dog-mum first and foremost. Being the owner of two golden retrievers means there is always plenty of energy in the house. From the moment I arrive home from work, Igloo and Millie are running loops around me. It’s not always easy to want to go for a walk – especially after a long day. But the reality is that I’m a better dog-mum if I do. The added bonus? It’s the extra exercise I need too. I’m starting out with something easy and achievable. Jumping into trend-led workouts has never really stuck for me, so by starting out with something that’s catered more to the little golden loves in my life makes it an easy starting point. The more intense stuff I can integrate later. And the more I do it, the more I actually find walking to be therapeutic. It’s fresh air, at sunset, with the ones I love most (my Mr. included). It’s fast becoming one of my favourite things to do.
  3. keep a food diary
    Now not to advocate for counting calories as such, but logging my meals into My Fitness Pal, has helped me to decipher what foods are actually not as good as they seem! It also has helped me work out better portion sizes and keeps me in check when it comes to meals and avoiding overeating. It’s human nature to feel better about eating a Krispy Creme when you can’t see the calories that accompany the iced-wonder, but when you have to account for it later, you start to really think about whether it’s worth it. I am loving being held accountable for what I eat, and with the gentle push the app provides, I’m making healthier choices when it comes to food. Its rewarding to be able to look back at your day and realise you gave your body the nourishment it thrives on. And it’s even more rewarding when your body starts to feel it too.
  4. get enough sleep
    I used to be notorious for not getting enough sleep. As I said before, it’s hard enough being a nurse to find routine, but sometimes finding enough hours to sleep between one shift to the other can be even harder. Then there’s errands, housework, and the weekly parental dinners – and before long, sleep becomes almost illusive (especially so when you have a racing mind like mine bursting with ideas and plans). So lately I’ve been making conscious effort to go to sleep earlier, I aim for 8 hours and feel so much better when I achieve it. The extra z’s also help with my digestion and I find myself less bloated in the mornings. The body just works better on a good night’s sleep – and although I already knew this to be a fact, feeling the difference really seals the deal.
  5. make your own meals
    Over the years, I’ve always been a fan of easy meals. Off the shelf, processed, cook for 20 minutes and voila! But often these meals provide little nutrition and altogether, turn out to only add to the waistline. A couple of months ago, I found a website called DietDoctor which is a Keto Diet based collection of recipes. And while I don’t exactly use the website for it’s intended purpose as I don’t plan on sticking to the fad diet, I do love that the recipes on there are low carb. It has been such a game changer when it comes to choosing healthier meal options, and when they taste as good as they do – there’s really no turning back to all things processed. There are ingredients in some of the recipes I’d never even think to use, and with the intended use of healthy fats over saturated ones, you barely feel like you’ve missed out on anything at all – which gets the tick of approval from my Mr. We’ve picked up a few favourites so far like Chicken Pesto Casserole, and Cheese Garlic Stuffed Chicken Breast, but with more than 50 more recipes yet to investigate, we’ve got dinner sorted for quite a while to come.

And thats my five habits! While they aren’t big changes to my everyday life, they are are giving me a good foundation to start building a healthy life upon. I can already see the changes in my thought patterns and energy levels. I’m less emotional, and more driven to make these second-nature. And this week weighing in at 76.5kg, affirms that something is working.

So here’s to healthy habits, happiness and seeing any challenge life throws at you as the perfect starting point.

d x

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#39

At this point in my life, my strengths and weakness are becoming pretty clear. And not that I like to focus on my weaknesses by any means, but this blog entry relies on one of my biggest – balance.

Since I was little, my balance has never been my strong point. I can elegantly trip over my own feet standing still, and while that sounds like a unique talent, I assure you it’s never been beneficial.

I’ve tried everything from skateboarding to surfing, but I’ve just never been able to figure it out. Perhaps I’ve never really given it enough of a go, but after watching a documentary on bones at the age of sixteen, the fear of falling with my wrists out first has ever since had me fear unbalancing the wellbeing of my radius’.

But as all things go in my life, this determined bundle of ambition I call myself can’t seem to ever give up on the hope of one day not being capable of losing balance on flat ground (or in a room full of people at Pilates).

The thing is though, if you don’t keep trying, you never will learn something new. And I’ve grown to learn that the moment you believe you can’t do something, is the moment you quite literally can’t.

I met someone the other day who told me she couldn’t snorkel because she hadn’t ever had lessons. Now I’m not sure I’ve met one person who’s ever actually had a snorkelling lesson, so I was confused by the notion at the time. Put the mask on, breathe through the tube, swim. Granted it takes some getting used to at first, but I’ve always thought the process to be pretty straight forward.

The entirety of our trip at Isla De Potipot in northern Philippines, she refused to snorkel the beautiful reefs surrounding the island because she’d already made up her mind that she couldn’t. She was scared she would fail at it, and despite us all offering to teach her how, she declined.

And the more I think about it, the more it really stands out to me as a lesson on never imprisoning yourself in accordance to what you think is not possible. She missed out on a whole under water wonderland that day, and while she had every right to make that decision – I just couldn’t understand it.

So I guess when it comes to balance, why should the fact that I have none of it mean I should corner myself in. The reality is, I’m happy to fall off, over or out, if it means experiencing something new. Sometimes you just have to give something a chance and see where it takes you. To hell with the wellbeing of my radial bones, right?

Ergo, bucket list #39. Learning to stand-up paddle board (SUP, as it will from here on be abbreviated to).

It’s always been something I’ve wanted to try. I live close to the beach, and on the ocean’s softer days, it’s home to many people aboard SUPs. To stand on the roof of the ocean, under blue skies and sunshine, had always struck me as being the dream.

On the fourth day of being at Moreton Island last year, we had woken up to a windless morning. The sea was calm, and clear. So my Mr. and I decided to hire a couple of SUPs and give it ago. The added bonus was that I figured falling off into water, would turn out to be a much softer break fall than concrete.

I must admit that while I knew my balance and lack thereof, would keep things interesting, I didn’t anticipate just how hard it would be to stand up, let alone remain upright.

In the time it had taken my Mr. to help me push my board out, head back to the beach, grab his board, head back out, stand up and paddle over the small breaking waves – I had barely accomplished kneeling on all fours.

He could barely control his laughter in between shouting encouragement my way as I put on a show that could only be likened to Bambi’s first steps. With wobbly legs and a whole degree of arm-waving, I finally stood up after far longer than I care to admit.

From there things got easier. Turns out standing up was the hardest part for me, the rest was relatively straight forward. While the occasionally lump in the ocean unsettled my balance, I never fell off. However I will admit to a fair bit of yelling, “Don’t come near me!” and some use of my oar as a jarring stick whenever my Mr. would teasingly come too close for comfort.

After we had paddled ourselves up the beach and back, we decided to spend the rest of our last hired hour laying on our boards. From the depths of the clear blue waters, we had been spotted by a pod of playful dolphins. Sitting on my sup with a smile as wide as my face plastered on, I watched them swim, dancing through the ocean as if it had been rehearsed especially just for us.

If I could SUP and swim with dolphins everyday, I would – because I’m really not sure how it ever gets any better than that, even if it does take me a small lifetime to stand up.

Balance or no balance, never let your weaknesses define what your capable of. There’s always a way if you will it. You can always do something extraordinary.

#39: Learn to Stand-up Paddleboard – Check!

d x

#66

When I was 12 years old, I broke my wrist riding a scooter down a hill. Granted that it could have been partly my fault given I had been sitting on the foot ledge rather than riding it properly, but you just couldn’t have convinced a younger me that this wouldn’t have ended in disaster at the time. Nevertheless, one fleeting 15 second ride led to a 6 hour wait in hospital and whole lot of not swimming in the middle of summer thanks to one very unfashionable cast.

When I was 13 years old, Dad let me drive the family run-around car back into the garage after we had finished washing it. It was one of those things that sounded like a good idea at the time, but later left you thinking why on earth did we do that. Because there were two things that went terribly wrong in the space of a few seconds. The first was that I forgot where the brake was; the second was that my soap-covered feet had little grip. Slipping on the accelerator was bad, crashing at a decent speed into the foundation wall of our two story house was worse, but forgetting where the brake was and plowing straight back into the wall a second time was downright priceless (in the most expensive way). This stunt also landed me in the emergency ward with a nasty gash to my forehead, and the requirement of a tetanus injection.

When I was 14 years old, I let my friend teach me how to ride her motorbike. I’d never ridden one before, nor did I really know how they worked – so naturally, this also seemed like a good idea. I actually hadn’t been doing too badly, the worst only happened when we decided to stop. You see, there’s a throttle on the handlebar and if you relax your wrist in the form of twisting down (don’t ask me how), you can find yourself tangled in a barb-wire fence pretty quickly with half a metal barb sticking out of your ankle, and a rather large third degree burn curtesy of the exhaust. Back to the hospital, and eight weekly burn dressings later – I never touched another motorbike.

When I was 15 years old, I let a boy push me down a grass hill in a shopping trolley. Was I sober? Yes. Was I smart? Not that day. Hitting a rock halfway down caused the trolley to capsize to the left crushing my elbow under both the trolley and myself. The stomach-turning crunch of my poor bones landed me a return trip to hospital, this time for a surgery and nine months of rehab. I still can’t look at shopping trolleys without cringing.

The point of these three stories is to show you that things with wheels and me, well we’ve never really gotten along. I purposely have never taken on a skateboard for obviously reasons, and have more than a few misfortunes to tell when it comes to my cars. The reality is, there would be less havoc in my life if the wheel had never been invented. But the greater good prevails, and as it turns out, they’re pretty useful in anyone else’s opinion.

But despite having sworn off wheels for the most part, there has always been one more set of wheels I’ve always wanted to try…

At #66 on the bucket list was to ride an adventure ATV, and call me crazy, but despite my unfortunate history with all things round – I’ve always been mentally prepared for the injury I would surely entailed completing this bucket list item.

When planning our trip to Moreton Island last year in November, I stumbled across an advertisement for riding beach ATV’s through the islands notorious sand dunes. Better to stack it on a balmy sand island rather than out in a balinese jungle, I thought. So I convinced my Mr. in no time (who is most definitely pro-theinventionofwheels, and master of all of them!) and we booked it in.

In an unlikely turn of events, I can confirm I managed to ride one without injury or a hospital admission… maybe wheels have taken pity on me and my battle scars after all. In fact, in comparison to the three tourists riding in front of my Mr. and I, who undoubtedly were more of a liability than even me, I think I did quite well. And I most certainly enjoyed every second of racing through the sandy figure-eights built low into the sand dunes, and over the tops of the berms.

Moreton Island is such a beautiful part of the Australian coastline, and to see it from behind the handle-bars of an ATV was such a great experience. Zooming along the shoreline on the beach at sunset is something I will remember as being one of the most beautiful sights I’ve seen. Even with the most wonderful of descriptive words, I couldn’t out-do seeing this place in person. It’s just simply something you’ll need to add to your own bucket list.

There is video proof of my successful ATV adventure in my latest holiday vlog, so if you wanted to check it out in live motion, you can click here.

And as for my war with wheels? Well, I’d like to believe that perhaps we finally made peace in paradise.

#66 – Ride an Adventure ATV: Check!

d x

 

 

 

#64

I think when I look back, I’ve always been a water baby. Between being strongly influenced by red-headed Ariel the Little Mermaid, and being driven by a school-girl crush to reach the level 3 swimming group so I could swim with the cutest boy in third-grade – I always preferred water to land (and not just because LM was swimming in it).

Any given family holiday, you’d find my parents borderline-dragging me from the water’s edge. Wrinkled skin? Not a worry in the world. All the better to hang onto the pool floor with!

Although roughly twenty-something years later my Mr. would argue that my now chosen swimming technique leaves much to be desired, I just put it down to being a different type of swimmer, a floater if you will. A much more leisurely way of enjoying the ocean, because lets face it, I never actually made it to the level 3 swimming group, and the Butterfly Stroke was never meant for me.

All of this aside, almost 6 months ago, I found a way to overcome my shortfalls for my love of the ocean. Its black and orange, and zips through the water like an ocean lamborghini – yes, sir. I did in fact, buy a jetski!

To buy a jetski, has been a goal of mine for quite sometime. I’m not exactly sure what appealed more to me, the thrill of soaring over the water, or just the adventure that comes with it. Maybe a bit of both? All I know, is that life got a little more fun with this new addition!

There is now a new toy to fit into the ever-shrinking garage alongside my Ryobi Builders Collection (that’s what I call it anyway, theres a dropsaw now too boot. This girl is no longer a damsel in distress!). And we have made use of it most weeks since getting it. Whether down along the river, or out in the ocean (I’m getting the hang of the ramp-like waves), we’ve started to explore around home from a different perspective.

Learning to ride a jetski is a little odd at first. For someone who hasn’t really had a whole lot to do with motorbikes or anything throttle-related (and perhaps without being of good cause), riding a jetski for the most part, was a learning curve. But it doesn’t have wheels, so judging by my history we’re safe.

Although speeding along the water at 80km sure used to feel like a death-defying dangerous feat until I got used to it, I’m learning I like being on the water much more than ever before. There’s just something about the wind grazing your face and the ocean salt spray that makes it feel liberating.

Recently, we have bought a donut tube – literally shaped and coloured like a donut with sprinkles. With a double hit of the control panel’s middle button, a little oomph with the help of ‘sports mode’, we can have you scooting round a lake as the donut hole at speed on the back of the ocean lamborghini. It makes for one hell of a day, and a whole lot of laughter, I honestly don’t know why I never invested in buying one sooner.

My Mr. and I are certainly ready for 2019, and many more Jetski adventures to come.
And if you wanted to check out one of the adventures from 2018, click here!

#64: Buy a Jetski – Check!

d x

 

#33

I’ve always had a odd fascination with crime. Not in ever committing it, just that people do and that despite all the psychologists in the world, we just really will never know truely why it happens. Call it my innate desire for justice, or just too many crime scene shows watched as a child (C.S.I was my bread and butter), I was just always intrigued with anything to do with the subject. Perhaps that’s why I’ve dabbled with the idea of becoming a lawyer, I’m not sure.

When I was in grade eight, we went to St Helena Island on the school excursion. St Helena Island is located in the Moreton Bay Region, four kilometres from the mouth of the Brisbane River and home to colonial Queensland’s foremost maximum security prisons for men in the 19th century. We had spent most of the day there touring the old ruins of the prison, imagining what it would have been like to be a prisoner there all that time ago.

I was enthralled. I always had been when it came to history, and when paired with a notorious past of crime – I was hook, line and sinker. I remember standing fearful to the soles of my feet as they talked about the Cat-of-nine-tails, struggling to believe how much times have changed.

On the way back to the bus, my school teacher at the time had made mention of another well known prison in Melbourne. And when she explained it was the prison Ned Kelly had been held captive at before his hanging – you bet it made it’s own special place on the bucket list.

Almost ten years later, I finally got to visit the notorious Melbourne Gaol, #33 on the list.

My Mr. had booked a surprise getaway to Melbourne for my birthday last year. We had stayed in a cosy little AirBnB in the heart of the CBD, and spent the week walking through the many back lanes of the busy city exploring. We had become so exceptionally good at riding the Tram be the end of the third day, we could have almost been mistaken as locals.

Nevertheless, in the home town of the Melbourne Gaol, we decided to visit.

After grabbing a coffee from a cafe on a nearby corner (with honey instead of vanilla, because apparently syrup in coffee in Melbourne is a crime all of its own…), we walked along Russell Street to the jail entrance. If there is one thing I really love about Melbourne, it’s the integration on old historic buildings amongst the new. And there on Russell Street, we found one of the oldest buildings in the city.

The Old Melbourne Gaol opened it’s first cell block in 1845, lasting 79 years until it’s closure in 1924. Famous for being the location of the hanging of Ned Kelly, the jail remains open to the public today to explore the prison, and it’s eyry past. You can climb the stairs of the prison and explore the cells. There is a multitude of information plastered to the walls, and plenty of real life memorabilia to take in. And when you reach the end of the prison block, you can even stand where Ned Kelly was finally hung and bear witness to the rope that claimed his life.

If you have a bit of time, it’s worth doing the full tour, which not to give too much away, includes being processed as prisoner and locked in a prison cell – just a little something to put you out of your comfort zone. The tour includes the city watch tower and magistrates court, before delivering you through to the prison block itself. There are plenty of tourist photo opportunities along the way (and you better believe I made use of every one of them). I thoroughly enjoyed every moment learning about the past, and the lives of some of the most notorious criminals. The tour through the Old Melbourne Gaol cost $28 per adult, and is worth every cent. I couldn’t recommend it enough.

If you’re interested, you can check out our Melbourne trip (inclusive of the old gaol!) here.

Otherwise, if you’re in Melbourne – go see for yourself, this is definitely a must do!
You can find more information about the Old Melbourne Gaol at https://www.oldmelbournegaol.com.au

#33 – Explore the prison where Ned Kelly was help captive in Melbourne: Check!

d x

 

2019: Healthy and Happy

Hello to 2019. Each of these new year’s seems to come quicker than the last. I could have sworn the last time I checked the calendar it was only March. And yet here we are, January 2019. So I guess all I can deduce from this, is that we must be having fun.

On another note, now that the chapters of 2018 are closed there are three things alarmingly clear that I am not good at sticking to: exercise regimes, diets… and blogging. I regret the first two (and so does my wardrobe), and I am sorry for the third (although, I’m also entirely sure no one was holding their breath!). But you just can’t tie this gal down.

Between the eight holidays we took last year – yes eight, and the new purchases (the first, a small golden fur ball and the second, well, we’ll get to that…). I just have managed to neglect my poor MacBook, which has done well not to die in my adventurous absence. I guess after all my goal of 2018 was to be present in each moment, and really embrace the little things – so you could say that was a success, because I feel the hiatus from my tiny blogging world speaks volumes about how life took over last year in the best possible way. I truely loved 2018.

When payroll had insisted I use up all 392 annual leave hours delicately stored for a rainy day, I must admit I was a little upset at the thought. For a girl who doesn’t really need more time off than the few days grouped together every couple of weeks, what on earth was I going to do with 392 hours?

I was busy trying to save money, not spend it willy-nilly on 392 days of holidays. Sure don’t get me wrong, I’m not completely crazy, holidays are always welcomed – I really wasn’t trying to complain. But my Mr. only gets a few weeks off a year between his job and university (studying to be an engineer, if I’ve never mentioned it before), and I’d just bought a puppy. Holidays just weren’t in the plan, and especially not seven more of them to squeeze in the remaining seven months from May.

But squeeze them in we did. Somehow, with a little compromise, a village of puppy-sitters and a whole lot of strategical budgeting from a small duel account, my Mr. and I found ourselves kicking back in seven beautiful destinations. There was Melbourne, South Fraser Island, North Fraser Island (two separate trips, because there really was just too much to see), Coochin Creek, Mount Mee, Somerset Lake, and Moreton Island (easily the most picturesque holiday of 2018). Paired with my trip to the Philippines, it turned out to be a pretty massive year.

And with the many beautiful sunsets I got to enjoy, and the crystal clear oceans that floated in, I began to think fondly of payroll and their sponsorship in my adventures. Because 2018 produced the most spectacular photographs, and my most favourite memories yet. And I couldn’t be more thankful someone forced me to make them, and sent me on my way in the form of a Holiday Agreement Contract (romantic or what?).

And as for the bucket list? Well I’ve been busy working away at that too. I believe the last time I put words to wordpress, was back in May. So I have a bit to catch you up on. It may take me a couple of blogs to do so, so you’ll have to bear with me as we dive back into 2018 to rescue the important bits.

But in the meantime, as we stand here knocking at the doorstep of 2019 wondering what’s behind lock and key – I’m hopeful that there are plenty more adventures in store. This year, I have goals to live a little more healthily and happily. And maybe, just maybe, 2019, diets and blogging won’t be such a lost cause! Wish me luck!

d x

 

A new set of tiny paws.

Four weeks ago, we added another tiny-pawed member to the family. Her name is Millie, and she’s Igloo’s new best friend…and our littlest golden love.

Living the busy lives we do, my Mr. and I thought it would be nice to have a friend for Igloo. Someone he could love just as much as we love him, and a furry companion between the early morning cuddles, and afternoon walks.

We searched for a long time for little Millie, requesting to be added to a very long waiting list with a breeder about an hour’s drive away from us. She hadn’t filled us with much confidence at the time stating that there were a lot of people wanting golden’s from her, and we would be added to the very bottom of the list. Nevertheless, she promised to notify us of the next litter and let us know they were planning this for November 2017.

November had come and gone, and we hadn’t heard anything. Then December, and soon after January had passed too. We started to lose hope a little, not able to find any other golden retriever puppies close-by, nor with breeding dogs as dark golden to match Igloo’s infamous coat-colour.

That was until one rainy afternoon sitting at my Mr.’s parent’s house. I had been curled up on one end of the living room couch, waiting for my Mr. and his Mum to come home after being out to pick up some furniture. As I scrolled through Instagram, my phone vibrated and a small drop-down notification boasted an email from an unfamiliar address.

Clicking on the email, I opened the message and read the first line, “We have just┬áreturned from the vet after Spice having a caesarean where she delivered 3 boys and 3 girls…“. I sat bolt upright to read the rest of the email realising this was it! This was the email we had been waiting for! Puppies!

I hesitated for a moment to ponder whether I should ring my Mr. and ask him whether we should send through a deposit, but then laughed to myself for thinking he would ever say no to that request, and sent through the money and an email without permission.

I couldn’t focus my attention on anything else while I repeatedly refreshed my Inbox, waiting for confirmation of a puppy. It was the longest 15 minutes of my life, before finally an email came through to congratulate me on the newest baby girl to join my world. I was ecstatic.

When I heard my Mr. driving back up the drive-way, I couldn’t help but run out to meet him halfway. With a stupid grin on my face, I put my hands up in the air and shouted, “We’re having a baby!”

It took him a couple of moments to realise I didn’t mean the human kind, and the fearful look on his face melted into a knowing smile. He was just as excited as me as I filled him in on the details.

On the 6th of April, we brought our newest family member home to the little white house. Igloo fell in love instantaneously, just as we had. She had melted our hearts, and it was one of my most favourite afternoons to date, spent sitting out in the backyard with my little family now of four.

Millie and Igloo are mostly inseparable, except for when Millie squeezes through the pool gate fence to adventure down the side of the house and Igloo proves too big now to fit. She has developed a deep fascination with the velcro strap of the BBQ cover, and also seems to be a huge fan of eating concrete pieces. Millie is definitely going to be the boss when she’s older that for sure, but for now she settles for being Igloo’s shadow, copying everything he does.

She’s bold and an explorer at heart, nothing seems to scare her. And unlike Igloo, she sure knows how to bark. After having gotten used to Igloo and his quiet nature, it’s definitely a whole new world to have Millie join the ranks. We’re a louder bunch now, consisting of a small bark and a whole lot of “No Millie!”. In fact, the “No Millie!” might just be our new most used phrase in general.

But I’ve come to realise that Millie was always going to look additionally naughty in comparison to Igloo, and for now that’s okay. She’ll learn, and one day she’ll be just as well-behaved as Igloo. She’s only 11 weeks old and has already mastered ‘Sit’, ‘Stay’, ‘Lie Down’ and ‘Come’. We’ve almost got the hang of ‘Shake’, but we’re in no rush.

It’s been a handful, but I wouldn’t have wished for it to be any other way. The early morning wake-up notifications in the form of a hungry whine, have just meant for more time to spend snuggling with my golden babies (after their breakfast banana’s that is!).

I love watching them grow together, and I can’t imagine my life without them. I look forward to coming home each day to see them, and the slobbery licks to the face that come as part of the packaged deal. They are my home.

Welcome to the family, Millie. I love you from your wet nose, to your tiny paws.

If you wanted the picture evidence, you can follow their golden-tailed adventures at @iglooandmilliethegoldens. I promise it will be your daily dose of happiness! All you need in life is love, and a golden (or two!).

d x