{This is life} Radio Silence

So, the battery in my car died this week. I don’t know how it happened as I refuse to admit loudly to the hubs that he was correct in assuming that I left the lights on AGAIN.

So I am awaiting the installation of a new car battery in the next few days, it has been a frustrating experience, from making sure each time I park my car the nose is pointing in the right direction in case I need a jump start through to the petrol I am using by leaving my car running for fear of it dying again! The most infuriating problem however has been the fact that the auto security on my radio has kicked in and I need a code to restart it. So, because I told the hubs I knew EXACTLY where the car book was and refuse again to admit my failings in all things car-manual-organisation I have been living in silence. Radio silence. headphones

These are the things I have learnt in a week of radio silence.

I can hear fights before they happen.

This one surprised me. Seriously. All of a sudden because I am not distracted in co-song harmony with my gal pal Taylor Swift I can hear the nigglings of a fight between the natives before it even happens. An example was the one time I heard this “Nope, nope, nope. Tis mines piglet”. This was the undeniable rumbling of fisty-cuffs in the back seat. Due to my lack of audio interference I bounced my voice through the cabin and told the kid to return the piglet to the toddler. Problem solved even before it really began.

List it.

On my morning drive to work I have been making lists in my head of all the things and jobs and stuff that I have to get done. Due to the quiet inside the car I have had time to think about paying the phone bill, cancelling the kid’s doctor’s appointment and planning what we will have for dinner. It’s funny how the background radio sound cancels out the ability to think clearly about the mundane.


In the silence I have been compiling a list of things I am grateful for. The silence has given me the ability for mindfulness. Good health, a hard working and loving husband, kids that aren’t arseholes all of the time.

Pelvic time.

When I stop at the red lights or roundabouts I now have nothing better to do than my pelvic floor exercises. I mean 3.5 kids did exactly nothing good for that situation that I look for opportunities when I can.


I call all those people I haven’t had a chance to speak with lately. For some reason my radio won’t play music but will let me utilise the Bluetooth to call. So hello grandparents, long lost friends and doctor appointments. It’s totes multitasking.

So, while it may not be ideal it certainly has made me aware that sometimes radio silence is exactly what the doctor ordered.


{This is Life} Why I chose to take my husband’s name

No two people are the same. I understand that.

Every single relationship is different.

I recently read this article, Why I Didn’t Take My Husband’s Last Name in Marie Claire and I found it really interesting.

It made me think, how much has the tradition of marriage changed and is it now common place for women to get married and not to take their husband’s name? weddingMy husband and I were married in Port Douglas on 7 July 2009 and it was wonderful. To be honest, short of the occasional shit-stirring expedition I never really considered not changing my name. My husband felt quite strongly about his desires for me to change my name. Having said that, I am sure he still would have married me if I chose not to, but it was his opinion that together in front of our family and friends we would be choosing one name for our own new little family.

I think in extension of that, we both knew we wanted to have children one day and while we wished them to have their own sense of identity we definitely wanted that unity of the same family surname to embrace them.

On the flip side, in my career it would have definitely been easier to keep my maiden name. This is because my father is well-known in the same industry that I work in and has made quite a ‘name’ for himself. Without a doubt the opportunity to grab onto those coat-tails was definitely enticing, but, what would that have shown my future daughters? I need to show them that you can make your own name (even if you have chosen to take someone elses!).

It is such a complex idea, so much of your identity is wrapped up in your name. It was who I had been known as for most of my life but here I was choosing to change my name for the love of another.

I guess it is a personal choice. I know that if one of my daughters does not want to change her name when/if she marries then that is entirely her choice and I will support her either way but for me it was something I wanted to do.

I know that having the same name as my husband does not make our relationship any better or stronger than those who choose to maintain their own name, but for me somehow it makes a difference.

So now, almost six years later I am still me but a little different version of me. I am a wife, a mother, a student, a writer, a procrastinator, an average cook, a reader, a clerk, a friend, a sister, a daughter. Not much of that relies on what my surname is. I am me.

Did you change your name?


{Raising Little People} Is being a good mother making you a bad wife?


There is no one that will argue against the fact that being a parent is sometimes a stressful, difficult and hard job. Quite possibly the toughest gig in the world.

The little humans require so much from you, feeding, cleaning, entertainment. But most of all, time.

What happens to your relationship though? Is the ongoing strive to be a good mother making you a bad wife/partner?

Do you put your relationship second, even if unintentionally?  Then this article is for you – Kate Parlin’s – ‘Being a good mom is making me a bad wife’

How do you keep your relationship a priority? Or are you just content in the tomato-sauce-stained-tee-and-please-fix-the-lightbulb stage of your relationship? We would love to hear from you.

Happy reading Nesters xo