Being a work widow and living in a caravan means I get to do all the fun jobs.We got a new van last year that has a shower/toilet in it. For convenience reason we upgrade to this “flash” model of van and it has a hot water service in it. I love not having to go to the toilet block in the middle of the night. Convenience of the boys having a shower while I cook tea (instead of taking them across to the showers). 

The thing that I don’t like about this convenience of our “flash” van is the emptying of the toilet. That’s right for you non caravanning readers. The toilet has to be emptied every 5-7 days depending on how many times we use it, how much toilet paper is needed to wipe away all the poo (or played with while sitting there). So you pull out a “cassette” (plastic tub), wheel it to the dump point, empty it, hoping like hell there is no splashes especially to the face, rinse and take it back and put it back in.

I’ve had a couple of learning curves with this job since being a work widow. 

1. Always make sure last person who used it actually “flushed” it, opened trap door to let fluid into cassette. If they haven’t, fluid goes everywhere in holding cupboard, splashes over your hand (and maybe face) and goes all over ground in annexe. 

2. Make sure cassette has been put back in properly before using it, especially for number 2’s. Or else number 2’s end up in holding cupboard and trying to pull cassette out without it falling on the floor takes real skill. 

It really is a shit job but someone has to do it. All the male grey nomads keep telling me it’s a blue job not a pink job. But I guess our caravan only has purple jobs, so I have to do it til I can the colour scheme.😜
Til next time

Take care 

Xo

Today my struggles are real. Work widow life sucks!! I couldn’t even have a shower (remembering we live in caravan park so communal showers) without the boys coming over screaming, and destroying my (and everyone else who was showering) peace. The screaming and waking up the whole caravan park started at 7.25am today. I clean the camp kitchens, so I was up cleaning the one furtherest away when 1 child decided it was appropriate to dob on the other one. The other one doesn’t like been left alone so he decided to follow, screaming, at the top of his lungs. Sorry to everyone in the caravan park, we are having one of those days…no weeks. I’ve had a sick child for the week, so no down time for me. Feel like I’ve had a newborn again up every couple of hours to coughing fits. Which lead me to googling in the middle of the night, where the nearest hospital is. Which lead me wondering, are we covered for ambulance while here. Which then lead me to realise I’d have to take the other child with me. Not much sleep happening with all this (and more craziness) going through my head.

No exercise time this week either. For those of you who read my last blog, would understand how important this is for me at the moment. So yep I’m not in a good place. I’m eating shit because that’s what makes me feel better, when I’m down. Which is a vicious circle as now I feel shit because I’m putting on the weight I just worked so hard to lose.

I have no friends in the caravan park, at the moment. Not even my husband. No one to give me cuddle and tell me that I’m gonna make it. The kids are that screwed up. So my sanity is slipping more and more with each moment. 

To take back control of my sanity, I decided to take the boys out. Yep, that will do the trick. Park, fish and chips and sometime at the beach. Perfect!! 

Park consist of me telling the boys off, having to be referee, then listen to them yell at each other. Time to move on. We’ll go to the beach to see if that helps me and improves their behaviour so we can get fish and chips. Beach, playing in sand ✅, quiet ✅. Yeh sanity is starting to return. Then child falls over in wet sand. Get over it kid it’s only wet sand. Then other child has gone out a bit too deep and is now wet. Who cares. Shit happens. It’s only water…salt water. He starts sooking, the salt is sting his legs. Really. Then he says “I want to go home”. Who would’ve thought that could start a war. “But I want to stay and have fish and chips”, “But my legs are stinging from the salt”. Grrrr!! Right we are going home. And gonna get Maccas on way back.

Yep shit eating because they are sucking the life out of me with their friggin sooking and whinging. 

How many more days til hubby is back??? 16 more days!! 

Til next time

Xo

It’s been along time since I’ve written one of these. So as you can imagine a lot has changed.
I have become a work widower. A term given to me by a fellow traveller. For just over 3 weeks at a time I am what feels like a single parent. Then my darling husband returns home for 10 days, exhausted, out of touch with civilisation and tries hard to fit back into our, now, “normal” routine. Which is of course full on as when I’m there on my own it’s easier to stay busy then have my somewhat feral boys running around crazy like in our home on wheels. 

The challenge for him is real. And for us too I guess. As we are so excited to see him as his been gone for so long that we smoother him. Which of course is something he isn’t use to after being on his own for 10 hours a day, 23 days in a row. 

Then we finally find our rhythm and then he leaves again. Short and sweet. As much as we try and make the most of our time together there has to be some rest time, after all that’s what RnR stands for Rest and Recovery. Then the vicious circle starts again.

After 4 swings, 5 months of living this lifestyle it is getting somewhat easier, the routine on my own but the saying goodbye seems to be getting harder. 

We live a simple life, it really is the small things that get you through. For my husband it’s days Wednesday’s, payday, making all of this worth it, Friday’s, fish and chips day, Sunday’s, double pay rates. 

For me, and I know the people that know me well will struggle with this, it’s exercise. My mental health and keeping my shit together comes from exercising. I’ve never got this from exercising before but for some reason I now do. If I miss out on my walks along the beach I lose my shit. And I can’t afford to lose my shit anymore, I have no one here to wrap me in their arms and kiss my forehead and tell me it’s going to be ok. It’s just not the same over the phone. So I now have become obsessed with getting in my activewear and going for walk along the beach.  

 I’m by all means not complaining just purely stating that life is not always as peachy as made out. 

There is something that comes from this lifestyle that you don’t get from working anywhere else. And my friends is the reason we are doing this. Short term sacrifice for long term gain.

Another thing that has changed since I last wrote is my thought processes.
I’ve always understood that your mind is a powerful thing but until recently I have never really got it. And it has made me asking is it an age thing? Or what life throws at you? Or the friends that I’ve made on this trip that has made me understand it more?

I just seem to see how a slight change in perspective can really change how you think about things. Whether it’s actually taking the time to really contemplate what the “issue” is and looking at it from a different angle or whether someone else points out a different point of view. How easy your mind can change the way you think/feel about something. Making things better or worse. 

I do believe that the people I have meet doing this trip, have helped, and some other special influences in my life, and for that I thank you as I honestly am now content with my life and feel the best I have ever felt. The mind what a wonderful tool. I can now conquer the world. 
Til next time, take care

xo