The Art Of Racing The Rain

Here's a little secret that very few American expats seem to have known before moving to Sydney, including myself: It rains A LOT. There's not a "rainy season" unless you're referring to all seasons here. There are a lot of nice days. Gorgeous really, and they make you forget the ugly days. My husband likes to flatter the Aussies by telling them the weather here is better than Orange County, Ca. But I beg to differ. He is sitting in an office and I am the one traveling by bus, ferry and most of all on foot with the stroller. In the summer, you can see the clouds rolling in, and I know usually before leaving the house that  it's only a matter of time before I'm drenched. But the hard part is finding that perfect window of time between naps and feeding and making that coincide with a moment of no rain. For my first "window" today, we were fine. We desperately needed groceries and so I filled up the stroller and got the essentials taken care of with little rain. But I still needed to pick up a package from the Post and had no space in the first outing. In our neighborhood, they drop off at about 7:15am so if you miss it, you have to go wait in line and pick it up. So once Avery woke up from the afternoon nap, I made a run for it. I saw the clouds but the Post would close soon. We lost the race today but didn't get too wet. Maybe by the time we leave, I will have mastered the skill of timing everything perfectly. Somehow I doubt it though.