Zombie Dolls and the Kiwi Road Trip

Here it is, the last day of the school holidays, and I can safely say that THIS time I haven't allowed myself to get caught up in a fad. In the past I have:

...developed a two week passion for Reborn Dolls which led me to procure (a much nicer word than "steal") all my daughters dolls, decapitate them, gauge out their eyes, paint them purple and hide them in the top of the linen cupboard. It's like a toy graveyard in there and one can only pray that vengeful zombie dolls are all a figment of the imagination. Mind you, with all the Facebook applications I've played with, I should be ready for any zombie attack heading my way - even if I am solely responsible for it.

Then there was the Green Phase. I was on a mission to save the planet and not buy any cleaning or personal hygiene products I didn't have to, while saving thousands of dollars and paying off my mortgage within five years. That's what the inspiring magazine article said anyway. So it was baking soda for toothpaste and gelatine in my hair. The toilet needed extra scrubbing, the kids missed their McCleans and I smelled like jelly. The zombie dolls couldn't care less, since I'd pulled out most of their hair with a crochet hook.

Just call me "Earth Mother"

Then there was the new-found passion for ironing...I think I've already mentioned the ironing. I'll just slip that into the "What Was I Thinking?" file.

So these holidays I've done STUFF instead. I did a painting. Ummm...it's abstract but it's "art" because I say it is. I made myself a tunic dress. I had nothing to wear with it so I had to go out yesterday and buy myself some accessories to go with it. Having done that, it might have been cheaper to just go out and buy a dress.

One of the coolest things I've done these holidays is the great kiwi Road Trip - with NO husbands and NO KIDS!! Smiley and I headed off in the car to Wild Whangarei, a whole two hours drive away, to meet up with our long lost work buddy, Ant. We drove all the way there with the headlights on because that's what kiwis do on a Road Trip (at least, that's what I told Smiley). I packed healthy sandwiches to eat on the way, Smiley packed lollies and chocolate. We stopped off at a cafe in Wellsford and I parked more than 1 metre from the kerb because we were rebels on a road trip and that's just how we roll - it had absolutely nothing to do with it being a parallel park *cough*. We met up with Ant at a slightly seedy little motel in Whangarei where she had blinked her pretty eyelashes at the manager and promptly had us upgraded to a flasher room with a bed each, two hours free internet and extra milk. We even managed to get the use of the spa pool room after the manager's bed time (although he wasn't invited).

Cameras and steamy spa pools don't mix well. Luckily I didn't drop it in the water.

We ate at a pub and checked out the latest version of "Footloose" at the movies. We were so rebellious, we stayed up till 10:30pm and slept in till 8am! The first thing Smiley said to me on waking was "You talk in your sleep", to which I replied "You snore!" After checking out of the motel (did I detect a tear in the manager's eye?) we headed off to explore the sights of Whangarei. We were finished by lunch time.

Incidentally, if you're ever up North be sure to check out the coolest cafe I've ever been to: Eutopia, where the tea is served in bone china and the birds will eat out of your hand.

See how I cleverly disguise Smiley's true identity. The bird however, signed a release form.

This running-away-from-home-with-the-girlfriends thing has a lot going for it. We've vowed to do it all over again during the Summer holidays. I've also decided to talk my friend R into running away with me for a weekend sometime when the pressures of her job get to be more than she'd like to cope with. I reckon her pretty eyes could get us a free upgrade from a backpackers hostel to a Penthouse suite at Sky City. I just hope the zombie dolls don't follow us.

If the bunk's a rockin'...

Years back there used to be an ad on the telly with the catch phrase "Don't leave town till you've seen the country". Geography is one of my many weak points but I'm proud to say that, thanks to Beloved, I have travelled this beautiful little country of ours from Cape Rianga to the Bluff - top to bottom. Well, except for little Stewart Island. As you'll recall from a previous post, poor little Stewie tends to get left out of a lot of the action. I did actually look out across the sea from Bluff because I heard that on a clear day you can actually see little Stewie from there but my eyesight's not that great so I just saw sea and sky.

I was about 6 months pregnant with C when Beloved took us to the South Island. He's a bit of a cheapskate so we drove down in the ute with my kids vomitting in the back (he doesn't seem to believe in hourly pit-stops on a road trip). We crossed the Cook Straight on the Interisland Ferry where I learned that I'm prone to chronic sea sickness (more vomitting).

Not long after Picton, after all the public restrooms had been passed, my eldest announced that she needed a toilet stop. Beloved pulled over at the nearest rest area, which consisted of a patch of grass, a few shrubs and a rubbish bin. Eldest searched for the most discreet area and settled on squatting behind the rubbish bin. Indeed, she was well hidden from the view of all the south-bound traffic. It was just a shame that she hadn't worked out that all the tooting and cheering from the north-bound traffic meant that she'd been mooning them with her little, pink tushy. I would save that story for her 21st but she's 22 now and I forgot to tell it at her birthday dinner so now's as good a time as any.

Flitwick was living in Dunedin at that time so we dropped the kids off with their dad and went on a little tiki-tour around the South Island in the ute. Eventually we found ourselves in beautiful Queenstown. We knocked on the office door of the only backpackers' hostel with a vacancy sign (No expense shared with Beloved, eh?) and were given seperate, mixed, bunk rooms with people half our age. With a bulging uterus and swollen ankles, I found myself staring incredulously at ladder leading to the top bunk. I wondered if this was such a great idea after all and was about to consider the option of sleeping in the back of the ute... Then a nice English boy offered to trade the bottom bunk with me. Relieved and exhausted, I slipped into bed while my young roomates went off to experience the Queenstown nightlife.  I slept soundly until about 2am when my roomies stumbled in the door. I tried to ignore them but it seems that the fun was only just beginning.

I felt someone lifting my blanket and a warm body was attempting to slip in beside me! I knew this definately wasn't Beloved so either my luck was about to change or somebody was making a huge mistake. She was about 20 years old and Canadian and was a little taken aback to find that the nice English boy who occupied the bottom bunk the previous night had morphed into a middle-aged, pregnant Kiwi lady.  My voice was shaky, "Err...we swapped" I said, pointing to the the upper level. You'd think she would have been embarrassed but she just calmly slid out from the covers and climbed the ladder. Then the fun started - for them. Let me tell you, it is not easy to settle back to sleep on a bottom bunk while the whole structure is shaking amidst groans of ecstacy. I know I was pregnant at the time but I'm still quite naive at heart and could not get my head around the situation. Being prone to motion sickness I decided the safest course of action would be to slip out the door discreetly and "wait" in the lounge area for the United Nations to finish their convention. I waited for an hour-and-a-half.

I hadn't waited long enough.

I took a long shower.

They still weren't finished.

I would have been better off in the back of the ute.

I waited until morning and gave them a filthy look when they emerged. Yeah, I bet that taught them a lesson.

Meanwhile in the other room, Beloved hadn't slept so well on his hard bunk either and he had the audacity to have a migraine the next day. I gave him a filthy look too.