The Five Little Ducks Blog

 My husband and I have been a couple since I was in my mid-teens; he in his late teens. We married when I was 18 (no, I was not pregnant), and for the first six years of our marriage lived in a self-contained granny flat behind my parents’ house.

During that time we both obtained university degrees, Daddy Duck worked various jobs, and two children were born. I learned how to shop, cook and not let the dirty washing grow mould in the hamper.

We were sheltered by my parents; they were like an ocean rock wall, for us subduing the impact of life’s mighty waves. The rent was laughably low and our bills were limited to our mobile phones, groceries and car expenses. We were very blessed.

Halfway through last year, Daddy Duck graduated from university and was extremely fortunate to immediately land full time employment. My father told us to stay a while longer and save some money, and mum clearly enjoyed having us around. This year we felt it was time to leave the safety and protection of my parents and finally “grow up”. And what a year of growing up!

Last Christmas, as we pondered the year ahead, we knew that we wanted to move out and I planned to return to study to obtain my Master’s degree. On Boxing Day I saw my brother-in-law (Daddy Duck’s younger brother) and I asked him how his two daughters in foster care were going. He told me that their supposedly permanent placement interstate had fallen through and that they were once again living in Sydney. I made a mental note to contact FACS (Family and Community Services) after the holiday season to arrange a contact visit with our nieces.

When I phoned in late January, I was asked if we were willing to be assessed to become the girls’ permanent foster carers. My response was positive and after much prayer and discussion, Daddy Duck was on board. We hadn’t moved house yet (a one bedroom granny flat is not quite suitable for two adults and four children) so that became our focus.

Two weeks in to my university degree, I gave up. With only one of my two children attending any day-care, my time to work on assignments was limited to bedtime. By the day’s end, I was exhausted. As I imagined moving house and extra children joining the family, I could not figure out how readings, weekly tasks, essay deadlines and an exam could fit into the scenario. I figured that university will still be there in the future. The strain on my time, family and mental health was not worth it.

In April I learned that I had fallen pregnant with our third child. What a pleasant surprise! My first response when I saw the double pink lines was laughter. My husband swore when I told him. Five kids under five by Christmas?

It seemed insane but we persevered with our plan to take on the girls and by June had moved into a quaint but spacious three bedroom house, two suburbs away from my parents’ house.

Moving out was a big transition. We had to choose an internet and phone provider, an electricity and gas supplier and sign a rental contract. We still have not mastered the art of budgeting and we get overwhelmed by the cost of our many bills and expenses. We are less than faithful tithers.

This is also the year that I became determined to graduate from my Learner’s licence to a Provisional Driving licence (imagining lugging a pram, shopping and five little ducks around on public transport has that effect). I have collected over 120 hours in my log book, have one more lesson to go with professional driving instructor and in a couple of weeks I will be taking the test. Oh dear God, please let me pass!

I feel like I am a true full time mum now. While Daddy Duck was at university, he was at home more frequently than he was on campus. Once he commenced full time work, I still had the near-constant company and support of my mother and young adult sister and brother. The children often disappeared into Mum’s place for an hour or so, leaving me in peace to cook dinner or do housework. I mostly enjoyed always having someone to whom I could talk. Now my husband is gone for at least ten hours a day, five days a week, and some days I do not see or talk to another adult until Daddy Duck arrives home.

But I love my life, most of the time. I know that Daddy Duck is happier to be “master” of his own household, and I enjoy having the space of a real house. It is so much easier to keep things tidy when we are not living on top of each other. Now when I host my parents, I get to bless THEM for a change. Soon our nieces will be moving in permanently, and in less than ten weeks our baby is due, so there are many challenges that lie ahead.

Earlier this year when my mum was feeling sad about us moving out, she daydreamed about somehow renovating the granny flat to include a second level and extra bedrooms so that we could stay longer. My response was this; “these have been the happiest years of my life. But it is time for us to grow up.”