I’m starting to feel a little like a soccer mom. The kids went back to school on Tuesday, so the past few days have been my first real “work” days. I get up at the crack of dawn so I can get Christian and Tea fed and dressed in the next two hours before school, and they milk every minute of it. Tea always wakes up with her claws out, acting and looking like a wild thing with her hair frizzed every which way, and Christian disappears to the bathroom during breakfast every morning for about a half hour, singing while he sits on the toilet, and whining, on the verge of tears, if you tell him to hurry up. My host mom Suzanne and I run around, packing lunches and backpacks while trying to get them moving. I give major props to anyone who is a parent for being able to handle the whirlwind that manifests in children. Somehow their moods completely change the second we get in the car. As soon as the radio turns on, both kids start belting out in unison every single word of every song, and I can’t help but smile and forget that they were acting like tazzy devils two seconds ago. We drive about 10 minutes to their school, St. Paul’s. All the kids there wear these cute little red and green uniforms that remind me of my days at St. Joe’s as a kid, except for I didn’t have a floppy green safari hat to match. The school is beautiful with wide-open land, and the classrooms all open up into outdoor courtyards.

Christian in his uniform with the pups, Marley and Molly

I have my days pretty much free while the kids are at school. This week I’ve just kind of been hanging out, exploring the mall and adjusting into the routine. Somehow the day flies by and before I know it, I’m back at St. Paul’s, hurrying the kids into the car so we can make it to gymnastics or swim lessons or dance classes on time. I am so impressed with these kids and their dance classes. In the past couple of days, I can’t even tell you how many hours they’ve spent at their dance school. Whenever I’m there, I feel like I’ve been thrown onto the set of Dance Moms, surrounded by mothers prodding over their daughters (and sons), doing their hair, dressing them in their tutus, making them look pretty, and trying to live vicariously through them while their competitiveness makes them act all passive-aggressive to all the other little girls and their mothers. In only two days, I’ve already gotten countless dirty glares. It would be an understatement to say I don’t look like I belong there. But every time I sneak a peak at these kids’ moves, I am incredibly impressed and proud of them, and the Dance Moms drama seems worth it.

Besides the Dance Moms, Australians are awesome people. As a whole, they are probably the nicest, friendliest people I’ve met, and that’s one of the things I love the most about living here. If I walked down the street in the middle of the city, looking completely lost, there’s no doubt that countless Aussies would notice my confusion and point me in the direction I need to go. Wandering around the mall today, I had compliments on my accent from the cashiers of every store I went into, and the people I talked to struck up conversations like they were my best friends. Even the airports are filled with friendly smiles. At home, you walk through airport security and the people glare at you as if you’re a criminal. Last weekend when I flew to Bali, all the Aussies working in the Brisbane airport actually treated us like we were people. No blank stares. Instead I got stopped and “searched” at security, but what it really felt like was some cute bloke chatting me up, debating whether or not to ask for my number. I don't think that kind of attention will ever get old. There isn't that same feeling that I get at home where everyone is extremely self-absorbed. People seem genuine, and I reckon they are. They're aware of you and interested in getting to know you, even if you're a stranger. It's something I find extremely refreshing.