its a little bit personal..

Intimacy is a very important part of a relationship, a kiss to say i love you, a hug to say i care, a wink to say lets go and some sex, well thats sometimes an effort isn't it.
It seems like sex has to be put on a calendar these days to remind myself its probably time to make an effort  for my husbands chance at sanity.  After realising recently i am not as adventurous as i used to be, it made me sad to think how easily things can get awkward if you don't keep up your intimacy in a relationship.  I needed to scratch my nose the whole time, my back and hips were hurting and my husbands knees were cracking and creaking like two old people trying to release their young spirits again.  Im 24 year old and i feel like i should be thinking about a walking frame and hand rails in the bathroom.  
My husband recently had a shoulder reconstruction and i found out the other day i need to go in for hip surgery in the very near future.  I feel like my young spirit is slowly being drowned by the heavy weight of life and its disappointments, struggles and curve balls.  At the ripe young age of 24 i should be able to have sex doing cartwheels and back it up with a game of tennis.
Im so young and there is so much future ahead of me and so many achievements still to be had.  I feel like my body and sometimes my mind lets me down and gets the better of me.  Perhaps my husband may have to think up some sex position for a walking frame or one of those beds that changed position by the push of a button.  What ever is may be, intimacy should always be important to feel the love between two souls, it ignites the flame and should make you both set your house on fire with all the heat you should be making.  OK so maybe thats a bit extreme, it doesn't have to be sex, but a kiss and a cuddle can show more love then the words 'i love you'.
PS.  Creaking bones, 25 or 50, sex or no sex, i LOVE my husband <3 oh and guess what... i can get a purple walking frame, watch out grannys!!

A good start to my holiday

The sound of half the plane gasping at me like i was some horrific mother was enough to make anyone want to curl up into a ball and want to roll away forever.  Taking a 16 month old by yourself on a plane is not only difficult but one very stupid thing to do.  

Every time i think my stress levels could not get any higher my daughter proves me wrong.  While flying home to visit my parents recently we had a little accident while the plane was landing.  The 2 hour flight was already enough to make me want to cry why wouldn't she try and push it that little bit further and see what she could achieve.  

While i was sitting next to another mother with her 10 month old pretty little angel sitting on her lap like she was ever so perfect, i was trying to control my ever not so gracious daughter as she lashed around throwing her head back and screeching like a cat fight down an ally.  Over the loud speaker the signal sound to please put your seat belts on as we are preparing for landing.  My ever so elegant daughter undoes her seat belt, throws herself forward and lands with a thud smacking her head against the chair across the isle.

In-between the gasps from half the plane and the screams of pain i casually pick up monster, dust her off and try to convince her to stop crying.  Meanwhile im holding back tears and the urge to curse everyone on the plane and blame them for my daughters accident.  It's not like anyone else in the world hasn't had their child fall off a bed, out a cot, out a pram or some other form of accident.  My daughter just does her's in style and class and likes to make it a huge scene so her mother nearly has child services after her.

For about 4 days after that she proudly got to wear a nice black eye and bump on her forehead, im just fortunate she can't talk yet to tell people how she got the ever so impressive bruise.  

The moral of this story is... If your going to take a holiday... take it without your kids!

Im lost in this world with no direction

You are my guidance and give no protection

I battle through life with nothing in hand

I march to the sound of a silent band

My mind is a race and forever thinking

Im  a ship lost at sea and I'm quickly sinking

Hold onto my hand and drag me to shore

Im struggling to breath and cant do it any more

The screams in my head are like murderous cries

I need to be found before inside of me dies

Tick tock my time has nearly come

Stop the clock now before i go completely numb

Stop talking like somebody is there

Outside these walls nobody cares

Growing up hurts

So many times when i want to express myself i start to write and let out all my inner demons, thoughts and feelings.  There are moments though that i have to stop myself incase i make more of explosion inside my head, a bit like a domino effect.  Lately i have wanted to have the biggest 'i feel sorry for myself moment' but i stopped myself and processed exactly what i was feeling and the reasons why.
Last week my sister gave birth to a gorgeous little Boy.  He was her first boy and actually the first boy for our family so there was buzz and excitement in the air and a feeling of a new chapter in everyones lives.  Unfortunately in all my joy and excitement there was also major jealousy and a bit of resentment towards the whole situation.  I started to go through my reasonings behind the way i was feeling and i could only place my finger on a couple of firm reasons.
I couldn't be jealous of a new born baby could i... maybe i could.  Maybe it wasn't the innocent, helpless and amazing miracle of life i was jealous of, maybe it was my sister.  Maybe it was the fact that my baby was no longer a baby, and i felt like this new little treasure was trying to take her place at being the young precious, fussed on baby.  It seems so heartless for someone to be jealous of such stupid things and very immature and spiteful.
I started to think back at when Gracie was born.  I always felt like maybe she would be compared with her cousins and maybe even not as loved.  I remember the feeling of giving birth and the exhaustion and exhilaration all in a matter of moments.  To hold life in my arms that was made with love.  To see into the eyes of a new soul, to feel the beating heart, going at a million miles an hour.  To feel love in a second and at that very moment of connection between a mother and child, a force and a bond, bound together in so many ways.
All i wanted to do (if i wasn't bed ridden) was stand up on the highest mountain and shout with joy, or better yet, i wanted to have a lion king moment and hold my precious gift above everyone with joyous music and the beating of drums celebrating a gift i gave this world.  Instead i lay there thinking, oh shit, whats next.
At the moment of thinking back i realise what my jealousy is all about... Family.  My sister, she had the blessing of having Mum and Dad there all the time, through every child she birthed, the waiting room was always blessed to have her very closest friends and family to welcome the arrival of her blessings.  It broke my heart to not be able to hug my Mum and have my Dad tell me how proud he was of me and how beautiful and amazing my daughter was.
I was jealous that my sister had access to Mum and Dad 24/7, not through a phone call either.  She could drive 2 minutes if she was having a weak moment and could feel the protection, security and love from our Mum and Dad.  The mum and dad that i feel so far away from, she has them whenever she wants.  I think with the birth of my nephew it has brought back the feelings of distance and separation between me and my family.  I want to hug my sister and tell her how proud i am of her and how gorgeous all 3 of her children are.  I want hug my mum and ask if she could get me a biscuit as i sit on my butt.  I want to hug my Dad and ask if he could please take us all to the ice cream shop.
Growing up is such a painful process.  At this very point in time i just want to be a baby back in the safe presence of my mum and the protection of my Dad.  I want to punch my sister in the army because she wont get me a drink.  I want to be apart of the family im now so far away from, so distanced and so alone.
Back to reality and time to come to the conclusion.  Everyone has to grow up and become someone or something.  My process of growing up has taken me away from my family.  Perhaps the reason being, so i can grow and nurture my own family and become a strong and independent person.  Im not jealous anymore because iv'e realised its not what my sister has, its what im missing... my Family.

stretched to the limit

We all have fat days, ugly days or in my case it has lasted a couple of years now and it really drags you down.  Me and self-esteem have always had disagreements and recently self-esteem keeps knocking me out in the first round.  Today i actually had a moment of 'wow you look slightly smaller today' when i looked in the mirror and it actually gave me 5 minutes of relief from my old friend esteem.  Unfortunately that didn't last long as i cooked cupcakes and licked the bowl clean from any cake batter.  

After my daughter had fed every hole on her face other then her mouth i decided to take her for a quick shower.  My daughter is about the only person i feel comfortable getting undressed in-front of, considering i feel like she is about the only person who doesn't realise how south my body parts have gone.    I really dont mind having a bit of extra loving on my body and i think im safe to say either does my husband.  Its something else that i struggle with... the dreaded STRETCH MARKS.  

When my daughter was growing inside me i think she made every single part of my body grow with her.  I was always aware of stretch marks and i knew i was destined to get them but i dont think any one can be prepared for the unattractive signs of pregnancy.  Pregnancy is beautiful blah blah, its a gift and yes all that good stuff, but please , you can not tell me stretch marks are beautiful and in anyway a good thing.

I looked down at my young naked body only to feel angry and upset with what i saw.  I have stretched every way possible.  I have never had big boobs (i'm sure some would say thats a blessing) but now i have small saggy boobs with stretch marks.  My thighs are like melting jelly, and my belly like a cat has attacked me, scratches telling a story.  

The faint white lines are to me as obvious as a black sheep in a paddock full white sheep.  I have to look at the positives in life and be thankful that my stretch marks, the scars that have started taking over my once innocent body, today are their to tell a story of giving life.  Im thankful the scares are not from tragedy or a horrific accident.  Although they bring me down, im lucky to have a husband who loves me and appreciates me as i was before and loves me even more after our child.  

My body gave life, my body will never be the same, but i am still me and forever will be.  Beautiful inside and out, my body tells a story and for as long as i live that story will be told.  Take that self-esteem.. KAPOWWW.  

To my special friend..

Im blessed to have many friends and even more blessed to a handful of WONDERFUL friends.  Today after a phone call from one of my best friends, she left me a note that made me realise how important friends are.  I've never been miss popular but the friends i have, certainly make me think i'm a lot luckier then popular people anyway.  It's amazing how fast time does fly when your having fun, or in our case, having a good old bitch about anything and everything.
There is also those people that you will walk on the otherside of the road just to ignore, or quickly put your head down and walk faster just to escape their glimpse.  If you are unfortunate to get stuck talking to them, its awkward, fake and feels like 5 lifetimes by the time you manage to escape their grip.  Some people just shit me.  Im sure they are lovely people and mean so well but please put me on Mars just to be anywhere else but in their presence.
I don't feel the need to have lots of friends or to try and make lots of friends.  I think friends come into your lives in the most random and unexpected ways, some stay and others just sort of fade away with time.  There is also the friends that you haven't seen in years and years and the moment you talk to them its like mud pies and dolls all over again.  Some friends are hard work and others are easy.  Friends come in all shapes and sizes and we just have to appreciate them for what they are and who they are.
Friends are like panning for gold.  So many times you are caught off guard by fools gold, only to be later disappointed by your finding.  When you find real gold or true friends you should shout to the roof tops EUREKA.  They should be kept on the top shelf with all your best spirits, or in a safe with your most prized possessions.  A shoulder to cry on or an ear to chew, friends are important and should be treated like gems.

More precious then diamonds, rarer then gold, protect them like treasure because true friends are forever.

One to many..

I am awoken this morning at about ten past 6 to the usual murmurs of my daughter that eventually turn into a frustrated whinge or if she could talk 'GET ME THE HELL OUT OF THIS COT WOMAN'.  Im waiting patiently for the day when i get a gorgeous sound of a little angelic voice calling out for her Mumma.  After letting her go for about 5 minutes i decide to drag my butt out of bed and go to her aid and begin our usual adventurous day.  

As i walk into her room i'm over powered by the smell of vomit leaching from every corner and inch of her room.  I rush and pick her up only to find she seemed fine, other then the fact her hair was stiff as cardboard and layered with chunky bits of pasta from last nights attempt at dinner.  I turn on the light and realise that she had slept the whole night in her own pool of vomit.

I call for my husband to carry out the usual morning routine of bottle and breakfast while i attempt to salvage and save her teddy's from sure death by vomit smell.  Last night she didn't wake up, she didn't cry, she didn't even make a hint of any sort that she had been sick.  I just thought she was actually deciding to have a good nights sleep.... with out the vomit.

After the beginning to our morning i decide to declare today to be already a disastrous day and begin to tread carefully and watch out for any other mishaps or miseries.  

Another thing happened this morning that had a huge impact on not only me but the rest of Australia.  While watching my favourite morning show 'Sunrise' we had breaking news come through of yet another Soldier killed in action during a fire fight in Afghanistan.  As a wife to a soldier and an ex-soldier myself no words can express the sadness and sorrow we feel for the friends and family of the fallen.  

My husband and i are both very lucky to have never been deployed overseas and i thank God i never will.  As for my husband he is preparing to go next year, something i am still coming to terms with and terrified about the thought of him being anywhere near such a messed up place.

A million tears will fall for 1 fallen soldier and a million hearts broken for one beating heart that has stopped.  Forever they will be known as a hero to their nation and forever known as a brave soul who fought for peace and love between all.  To the children who lost their father, the wife that lost their lover and best friend and a mother and father who lost their son who they raised to be such a brave and significant person.. we love you and give you a piece of our hearts and cry tears in remembrance and say a prayer for those who are suffering and those who are still on this mission and please come home safely.

They give their lives for their country and as a country we give them our respect.  Least we forget.