‘What do you think about the idea of doing Beach Mission as a family?’ Dave asked.

It wasn’t exactly a new idea. We had toyed with the option of heading off to Tidal River with some family friends the year prior, but it hadn’t quite fallen into place. Having participated enthusiastically in three Beach Missions at Portarlington in my late teens, I was open to giving it a go.

The only problem was, it was right over Hudson’s birthday.

Hudson was not impressed. ‘I’m not even going to know any of these people,’ he complained. ‘It’s going to be the worst birthday ever.’ For one not usually prone to bouts of negativity, it wasn’t a great start, but we tried to talk up the experience.

‘You are going to love it,’ we promised. ‘Just wait!’

But it’s difficult to convey the reality of Beach Mission to those who haven’t been on one. For the unitnitiated, or for those who have been away for a while, simply staring at the jam-packed daily schedule is enough to feel exhausted.

‘We have to get up and have breakfast… when?!” I spluttered. ‘7 am!? With duties at 6:50? This is not even close to a holiday.’

The kids took a while to warm up to the idea and the experience. On the first day, they reluctantly helped us set up the family camper trailer while also finding plenty of excuses to disappear and explore the camp site and Balnarring. Eli – ever the independent one – had his own tent and forged his own schedule as he was not quite young enough to be ‘one of the kids’ but not old or mature enough to be a leader. Needless to say, I don’t think he attended one breakfast during the entire ten day stay.

The teenagers and young adults were incredible. Dave and I were constantly in awe of their resilience, optimism, maturity and good humour. They forged relationships with our kids instantly and easily. Before long, Harvey went from hiding behind me at meal times, to confidently taking his laden plate off to sit with his favourite young adults – delighting in their jokes and banter.

Hudson took a little longer, and as his birthday loomed – only a few days into the Mission, I wondered whether he would forgive us for ‘forcing’ him to spend the special day away from friends and family.

Our New Year’s baby entered the world with a bang and his celebrations ever since have involved some form of fireworks. This time, the team threw a party for the final day of 2024 in the church before heading off to the beach to usher in the New Year together. I stayed behind with Ivy, who couldn’t quite manage to keep her eyes open for the late night, and heard about the experience the next morning. Hudson couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. They had sung ‘Happy Birthday’ to him right after the countdown and he was so pleased.

We dug out the presesnts we had strategically hidden in the camper and presented them to him with a flourish. The day was Team Day Off – which meant a much more relaxed pace, with a beach trip and pizza for dinner.

One of the Directors came over just as we were about to return to camp and asked if we could delay Hudson’s return a little because she had something special planned. Dave took Hudson to the shops for a bit and I walked back into the hall to find the most wonderful sight. Balloons, party poppers, fairy lights, streamers and his favourite chocoloate cake, all set up ready for the surprise entrance. Hudson couldn’t believe his eyes when he returned with Dave, to be greeted by all the whoops and hollers. Afterwards he agreed it was one of his best birthdays ever.

Of course, it would be naive of me to think that this momentous event would replace the need for us to throw him a party with his friends. Somehow over the years I have set up an expectation that each child will get to have a party every single year and I’m not quite sure how that happened. We missed the boat for celebrating contemporaneously with his actual birthday, and Hudson was quick to remind us that we told him he could have a party in the first term holidays.

This was fine as a general plan, but when the first term holidays came, we soon realised we had created an impossible burden for ourselves. After all, Ivy’s January birthday had also rolled around in need of a celebration and Harvey was not to be denied his April gathering. We ended up booking three parties within six days – a feat that I would not recommend to any sane people out there.

Somerville Recreation Centre must have thought we’d gone completely mad, but gamely went along with our plans to host three spirited groups of young people in quick succession. Hudson’s was, quite rightly, the first, and featured a basketball theme (just for something different). Dave promised to handle all the games and suggested that I aim for simplicity with the food (given I was still in the depths of my uni semester, with plenty of assignments on the go). I decided to bake a mudcake rather than buy one, given the ever-decreasing sizes and ever-increasing prices of the storebought versions. The rest of the food was, in my mind, simple – hot dogs, sausage rolls, party pies, pizza and loads of chips and lollies.

Somehow we ended up attending the HMAS Cerberus Navy Open Day hours before the party was due to start, which was equal parts interesting and exhausting, and arrived at the function centre only minutes before the guests did. Thankfully this didn’t have any impact given the straightforward nature of these kinds of parties. The function room was ready to go and we simply filled it with balloons and food, the energetic boys and girls immediately getting into the sport. Dave ran the games like a champion and there were prizes for the grinning winners. The food promptly disappeared and the cake was served. Before long it was time to head home with happy hearts and tired feet. The birthday boy was, thankfully, happy and grateful for the conclusion of his festive activities.

Hudson’s 12th year of life was both eventful and predictable. He weathered a house move and got through Grade 5 with minimal fuss on the whole. Out of all the kids, Hudson has the cleanest room and is very good at keeping his things in order. It took a while for him to add any personality touches to his space, unlike the others who overloaded theirs instantly, but his minimalist style is refreshing. He continues to play basketball and gravitates towards Facebook Marketplace just to browse shoes at any opportunity and loves to wear T-shirts to death. It’s crazy to think he only has one more year of primary school left!

It’s been a wild ride, from the nine long days it took Hudson to arrive after his due date, to the health issues and detours we’ve been on along the way, but our lives are much richer and more interesting for having Hudson in them!

…

Dear Hudson,

You are a paradox of being – both predictable and puzzling, ordered and chaotic, a whirlwind and a calm stream. We shake our head in exasperation at you at times, but also regard you with wonder. Your resilience and stoicism is beyond compare. The mountains you have climbed would be beyond the ability of most, yet you shoulder burdens with ease and a shrug, not letting anything get you down.

I don’t always react with patience or guide you with calm wisdom, yet at times it seems that you have much to teach me. I’m thankful to God for your presence – the lessons your existence has triggered have been deep, rich and ego-shattering (in the best possible way).

May you always know how much you are loved. God designed you and knit you together with purpose and fervour. He has a plan for you that will exceed even your wildest expectations. Lean into His direction and hang on for the ride. Great things are sure to come.

I’m ever appreciative of your ordered room, your love of cooking, the calm sense of discipline you exhude. May you continue to embrace life with both hands, be cautious with your words and lift up those around you with kindness and optimistic energy. (And be ever more restrained around soft drink!).

We celebrate you, Hudson. We are in your corner and will fight for you every step of the way. May your paths be ever straight and blessed.

Love always,

Mum.