There's almost too much to do and see around Melbourne. Covering everything is impossible. We didn't include Phillip Island in our original itinerary. We changed the plan at the end - sorry, after the cut-off time for cancellation of hotel book with refund.
Such flexibility on my part is uncommon: my survival framework has been built on the harmony of clearly written plans. For that sort of impromptu schedule change on the fly, I can't. Or won't.
It speaks to the nature of my stubborn head. But then I read the book by Daniel Siegel and Tina Payne Bryson - The Whole-Brain Child - and learned about the metaphoric river of well-being. Children are thought to float along in their canoe, with one bank representing chaos, the other being bank of rigidity. Near the bank of rigidity, the water smells stagnant and stinky. Another extreme, on the other bank, is a total lack of control. We're zigzagging back and forth between the two.
The easiest way is to integrate the two.
There's more buried treasure hidden in Phillip Island. I consoled myself with this thought: we cancelled the hotel booking at the last minute to make our trip there to see the little penguins (Eudyptula minor), the smallest ones and probably the cutest on the planet, waddling ashore at dusk. From their chaos in the rough sea and back to the comfy home.
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Tranquility
After the hotel stay next to the Royal Children's Hospital in Melbourne, we moved to an isolated and virtually traffic-free area, French Island.
The main attraction of this island is its serenity. Being two-thirds national park, French Island has a population of around 100, far outnumbered by their resident koalas.
We didn't camp this time. We stayed in an eco-friendly cabin which provided cosy dinner and basic facilities - minus hair dryer and wifi network.
So that's the bad news: you have to wait for your hair to dry. That's right. Waiting without net surfing.
Well, there are some pretty good alternatives.
Yikes.
The good news is that you can go outdoor stargazing before bedtime. Chances are you won't come back after your hair has been dry. Or even, in the blink of an eye, when it's frozen.
The main attraction of this island is its serenity. Being two-thirds national park, French Island has a population of around 100, far outnumbered by their resident koalas.
We didn't camp this time. We stayed in an eco-friendly cabin which provided cosy dinner and basic facilities - minus hair dryer and wifi network.
So that's the bad news: you have to wait for your hair to dry. That's right. Waiting without net surfing.
Well, there are some pretty good alternatives.
Yikes.
The good news is that you can go outdoor stargazing before bedtime. Chances are you won't come back after your hair has been dry. Or even, in the blink of an eye, when it's frozen.
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Heart
Living right next to a hospital always ranks low when it comes to holiday. That's what we did in Melbourne during my daughter's term break. Our hotel is right next to the Royal Children's Hospital.
When I say "next to", I mean we shared the same elevator and car park. And I mean the hospital cafeteria is an integral part of our daily life. My daughter really appreciates this special place.
The Royal Children's Hospital, I must say, is a fabulous place for kids and visitors, especially those with a kid like our family. The hospital is surrounded by the 181-hectare Royal Park, the largest of Melbourne's inner city park. With the hospital's child-centric decoration (including a more-than-real size tiger behind the story The Tiger Who Came to Tea) and innovative design (with the ward location named after animals like kookaburra instead of those boring number and alphabets), this place is a showpiece for their love for children. Everything that happens to patients - the picture they see on the corridor, the playground they visit, the books they find at the convenience store - profoundly changes the way a hospital journey is perceived. And more so for children hospital journey.
The location of our hotel didn't really get off the beaten track, but it gets us to the heart of a place.
When I say "next to", I mean we shared the same elevator and car park. And I mean the hospital cafeteria is an integral part of our daily life. My daughter really appreciates this special place.
The Royal Children's Hospital, I must say, is a fabulous place for kids and visitors, especially those with a kid like our family. The hospital is surrounded by the 181-hectare Royal Park, the largest of Melbourne's inner city park. With the hospital's child-centric decoration (including a more-than-real size tiger behind the story The Tiger Who Came to Tea) and innovative design (with the ward location named after animals like kookaburra instead of those boring number and alphabets), this place is a showpiece for their love for children. Everything that happens to patients - the picture they see on the corridor, the playground they visit, the books they find at the convenience store - profoundly changes the way a hospital journey is perceived. And more so for children hospital journey.
The location of our hotel didn't really get off the beaten track, but it gets us to the heart of a place.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Lego
Consider for a moment staying home with a child when it's all wet outside - what makes it more miserable is the strong wind and then typhoon signal.
If this sounds humdrum, that's because it is: "Borinnnnnnnnng." Any time this word boring is part of a child's whine, it's as scary as fingernails on a chalkboard.
Nothing in the parenting almanac says we have to put up with boredom like that, so we decided to unwrap a box of Lego when we were hit with heavy squally weather last weekend. That's not a small set of interlocking plastic blocks. A set of more than 800 pieces, big enough to build Christmas village with elves, reindeers, sleigh and Santa's workshop.
I didn't know I would have opened the set that early when I bought it online: the set is supposed for kids aged 12 or above. I was even more surprised at the way Jasmine was absorbed in the project. The length of her attention span amazed us by the time we looked at the watch after finishing the Lego set. Six hours.
Unbelievable.
If this sounds humdrum, that's because it is: "Borinnnnnnnnng." Any time this word boring is part of a child's whine, it's as scary as fingernails on a chalkboard.
Nothing in the parenting almanac says we have to put up with boredom like that, so we decided to unwrap a box of Lego when we were hit with heavy squally weather last weekend. That's not a small set of interlocking plastic blocks. A set of more than 800 pieces, big enough to build Christmas village with elves, reindeers, sleigh and Santa's workshop.
I didn't know I would have opened the set that early when I bought it online: the set is supposed for kids aged 12 or above. I was even more surprised at the way Jasmine was absorbed in the project. The length of her attention span amazed us by the time we looked at the watch after finishing the Lego set. Six hours.
Unbelievable.
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