New Year’s Eve 2023

We could’ve just stayed at home and watched the spectacle from our upstairs bedroom window. Instead, we chose to drive down to Dandenong Park to watch the fireworks bursting in colors of red, blue, and white… from behind a tree.

It was up close, yes. But from where I stood, let’s just say it lost much of its audience impact.

But that was the first time we ever celebrated New Year’s Eve as a family, though. Just the three of us — with hundreds of other people, sure, but somehow it still felt intimate. Maybe not as intimate as our little family selfie later that night on my writing desk mirror with my candles and my intentions but, close enough.

To be honest, I couldn’t care less about the fireworks. Watching Jeff and Raven from behind was all the joyful sparks I needed to uplift my spirit well into the next new year and all the new years to come.

My daughter’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I swear to God. I know it sounds so cliche and that line has been used and abused to death but, yeah, it’s an honour to be her mom. It’s quite a responsibility, too, but that comes with the territory, I suppose. You really do need to parent yourself in order to parent your child. Self-knowledge is king and I still have a long way to go but I’m trying my best. I’m far from being the perfect mom but we’re growing up together, let’s just put it at that.

It was a council-run event. Apart from the program proper where you couldn’t really hear shit or if you did, you’d have to turn up your hearing aids all the way up because the sound system was about as clear as an AM reception, they had performers roaming around the venue in stilts and tight bodysuits.

The hula hoop girl was my inspiration for my next career move. But it takes a lot of guts to perform in front of an open crowd though so if it’s not hula hooping, my next bet is pole dancing.

As for my dear daughter, she’ll be the gymnast. The one who does cartwheels and contortions that I’m too chicken to try no matter how much she tries to teach me. I can barely even bend down to touch my toes, how much more bending over backwards while crawling on all fours. Stunts she copies from Youtube.

Jeff will be the unicycle/rollerblades guy. AKA The Butler. The one we call to do our bidding. The one who swelters in the heat as he lines up for us to order us barbecue while we are entertained by a roving juggler. The same one who walks all the way back to the car in order to get us a picnic blanket we can comfortably sit on.

Told you we’d make a good circus family.

*Raven at 6 years old

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