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.  

Just one smile.. please

Have you ever been so overwhelmed in your own life or situation that you forget about others and what they might be going through.  It can happen a lot, i find myself so focused on my life that sometimes i forget to smile.  Sometimes i walk past strangers like they don't exist, or walk straight past those people collecting money for charity like they are beggar's begging for themselves.  

I think we forget how amazing it feels to give to someone.  If its a smile, a dollar or even a half a smile you will be shocked at how good you will feel about yourself and better yet, how good the other person feels on the receiving end.  

I watched a movie today called 'The blind side' it was one of those feel good movies that brings a tear to your eye and a smile all in the same moment.  Only a very rare few, select people are capable to do what that family has done for an almost lost soul.  Im not going to tell you about the movie but i am going to tell you to watch it.  It will make you realise the gift of giving.

Its seems to be human nature to be selfish and so focused and fixed on our selves that we let those around us slip.  The person who you think is the strongest and the most 'together' person you know may just be battling the biggest hurdle in their lives.  How are you to know if you don't genuinely ask someone 'how are you', its a question so often ask and so often replied with 'yeah good thanks'.  

Are they really good, or are they just so use to saying that, its turned into habit.  

Don't let someones exterior fool you with whats happening on their interior.  Most of us were blessed to have two hands, so why no lend one of those out and start helping people who may just need that extra hand.  Start smiling at the cranky lady behind the register.  Start asking 'how are you' with a genuine concern and interest.  Start putting your 5 cent pieces into the guide dog tin.  

We can all help someone is some small way.  We may not see the results of the good work we have done, but just knowing that you have done the right thing is already a gift to yourself.  

My Mother said to me recently 'you can't help everyone' my response was 'no but i can try'.   If you dont try then are not worth someone else's effort.  

the ocean...

We are back to square one for the hundredth time... screaming at nearly midnight for what i can see, no apparent reason.  She should have her own show she is that on time with her episodes and dramatic scenes.  I feel so angry, my temper is going from 0-100 in a matter of moments and my thoughts go back to being 'WHY'.
My melodramatic daughter is that worked up and that determined to get someone to go in and get her, she starts dry reaching.  The sounds come in waves, when they are at their peak they are like tidal waves and then their are moments of calm and peacefulness that sooth my anger and frustration ready for the next powerful wave.
I sat in her room for nearly an hour singing to her like some looney in a dark room, trying to convince her it was ok to go to bed.  Obviously it had no success other then the realisation my angelic voice could perhaps be the reason she isn't settling down.
I can imagine her little face in her cot, red and tears streaming down like a river and her throat dry like a desert.  All she wants is me, all i want is for her to go to sleep.  While the boys are sleeping, the girls are up having a battle of the bitches.
My eyes are falling out of my head, my head is throbbing from nearly drowning because of the huge tidal waves.. im a very weak swimmer, and this is only making me weaker.  Im only just floating, im only just finding the energy to keep going.  My body is exhausted my mind is weak.  I WISH MY CHILD WOULD SLEEP.

A funny thing happened..

We were fortunate enough to have a night away 4 hours down south.  To us thats just a short drive considering the huge land we live on.  For 2 international students thats driving one side of their country to the other, something they consider a huge drive.  I had been hanging out to show our international family members the amazing fauna that this country has blessed us with.  

After joking that the first Kanga they would see, would be a dead one, we soon pass a headless one laying dead on the road.  Welcome to Australia! the only country in the world that kill and eats its 2 national emblems.  The tally count on the way down south was about 50 dead - 0 alive kangas... hmm not a great start to impress them on our beautiful country.  

Driving along the dry long stretches of round we were never short of amusement or entertainment as my drop bear decided to put Maccas fries into her ears and and through her hair.  Its such a hard ask, for a 14 month old to sit still in a car for 4 hours, with only food to amuse her, and my glorious angelic voice bopping away to 'i wanna be a billionaire' (its not a lie i really do).  

Finally arriving at our destination we were exhausted but ready to socialise and have a BBQ with great people and good times.  Sitting around the table outside we were eagerly awaiting the arrival of Charlie the possum to climb down from the trees and join us with its presence.  Something our international family members had eagerly been waiting to see and better yet, feed the possum.  

After some time the shy little possum finally decided to try and creep down and steal some apple, he was amazing and very friendly.  Finally they get to see an animal thats alive...

They all gather round for photos and a feeding session for Charlie.  We bless them with stories of drop bears and hoop snakes and tell them how cuddly possums are and how they don't hurt you.  My bold and brave host son steps up to the plate and decides to give feeding Charlie a go, after all it cant be that bad since all the pretty girls can do it.  He holds out and piece of apple and Charlie takes it, he holds out another piece of apple and BAM.  Charlie has latched himself onto his finger like a starving hyaena to a dead carcass.   

As we are all in hysterics laughing with tears and all, he continues to try and salvage his finger from the tiny beasts mouth.  Charlie is refusing to let go.  My Danish host son get a reality check on Australia and our gorgeous fauna.  Cute and furry doesn't always mean cute and cuddly.  

After a good few moments, Charlie finally decides to let go.  He even drew a little blood, but better yet Charlie gave him a welcoming bite to Australia and a story to tell.  If you ask him how big the possum was, it was basically the size of a bear.  

The weekend continues and eventually we see Kanga's, Wallabies, Kookaburras and even a echidna.  It was such an amazing weekend and we got to meet amazing people.  Even the trip home with a screaming child didn't take away any fun we had.  

PS... i just found my cuddly little Australian wild beast brushing her hair with the toilet brush.  CHARMING!

Charlie latched onto his finger.

Charlie the Possum

Beautiful Kangaroo that allowed us to pat it.

Gorgeous butterfly photo my host son took.

All the north QLD STS host students!

A not so very 'good morning'

It's 8 o'clock in the morning and i get a very random knock at the door.  I freak as i look around me at the devastation from the hurricane that snuck in last night.  Worst yet I look down at the devastation and the state I myself am in, wearing my husbands flannelette pj's, my hair a disgrace and a dressing gown.  I quickly hurry to the door thinking it must be the neighbours telling me the dogs have dug out again or something easy to fix.
I get to the door and open it up quickly so it at least looks like i care, only to be horrified thats its two nicelooking workmen standing there looking at me like 'WTF'.  I would like to think it was WTF this girls fine, but no probably more like 'WTF did we just wake you up, we did ring and talk to you about this yesterday you forgetful scraggly cranky woman'.  I then replied back to them, in my head of course 'dont look at me like that, your lucky im even wearing a freaking bra... oh shit, yep sorry, i forgot to put that on too... oh and no you didn't just wake me up, i've been up since 4, so in your face you nice looking air conditioner man'.
After they fixed the problem (nearly 2 hours later) i quickly rush to the shower in an attempt to make myself semi decent.  I wash my hair, shave my legs, do a nice face scrub and im definitely feeling alot better.  I get out, quickly dry myself off, put my sidekick up on the bed to dry her, i turn around for a split second to put the towel up and guess what... she casually squats down on my nicely clean bed sheets and pee's.  What a feral child i have, why on earth does she feel the need to pee on the bed?  We were just in the shower with running water for a good 20 minutes and she saves herself for now.... on my bed?
After i was cleaned up the mess still furious and so tempted to yell and scream at her i calm down, get dressed and walk on over to the mirror.  I look into the mirror waiting for Mrs world to say hi and my breath is taken back with what i see... its the same god damn bitch who answered the door this morning.
We all have these days no matter what we do, we still find ourselves down and out about who we are and what we look like.  No matter what we attempt to do, we will not be happy, we will not see any positives about ourselves, all we will see is a down and out, exhausted Mum who just wants the old them back.  Did you forget with or with out a child we all have these days, even males get them.  You just have to pick up the pieces of the mirror that shattered when you look into it, put them in the bin and find a better mirror, one with a more positive attitude.  Dont stop looking until you find it.
We all have feral days and we will always continue to have these demons visit us.  So together in feralness we shall all unite, and hopefully tomorrow our beauty doesn't forget to stop by.

what end of the stick?

I truly and honestly believe females got the shit end of the stick.  Who on earth would make us bleed once a month, get boobs, go through birth and have to put up with males..  only a male himself would, thanks God.  When i found out that i was having a little girl i had mixed emotions... i thought, other then boobs, periods, boys and pregnancy, this is going to be wonderful.. hmmmmm thats basically half their life.
I have always had a rough time with the whole period thing, always home from school because of severe period pain and at times so bad i was sick.  Laying in the fetal position, wishing a truck would come screaming through the walls and hit me sometime soon would be the best way to describe my joys once a month.
I do have a slight blessing but also a hinderance in other ways, that i only get my slow death every 8-10 weeks.  Its definitely a blessing in the way i don't have to plug the leak as often as most people but also a hinderance trying to fall pregnant.
After having ultra sounds on my uterus to try and find out the reasons why this happens they found out i had something wrong, ovarian cysts disease, it is a common problem in females and can cause pain, discomfort and worst yet, trouble conceiving.  We were lucky enough after way to many times trying to find out we were pregnant.
I had a pretty breezy pregnancy, only one real hiccup... i started bleeding during while i was pregnant.  So after not leaking enough every month it decided to come while i was pregnant.  Gee thanks body, good way to give someone a heart attack.  It was all fine though and little did i know, very, very common in alot of pregnancies.
Now for the birth, seriously, how stupid to make a babies head the size of a rock melon come out of somewhere a rock melon should never be able to come out of.  Look at the size of what goes in (you know the male hmm hmm), and then it creates something the size of a bloody rock melon.  You can soooo tell God is male can't you.
Now how ever many stitches later and surgery 7 months later to correct it all, and put things back in place,  you would think not much else could happen to really piss you off about being a woman.   WRONG!!!
After being in stabbing pain all weekend, i finally decide to face the doctor.  Of course my nurse is male and my doctor is male, because males just like to put their noses in all the wrong places.. they discover... wait for it... i have a ruptured cyst on my ovaries.   WHYYY OH WHHYYYYY... here i was embarrassed thinking i had gas (but wondering why i seemed fine in that department) or just a tummy bug, nope, i now wish thats all i had.
There is nothing at all they can do for a cyst rupturing.  So i am sent home in the same way i arrived at the doctors surgery, sent home to continue to be in pain, continue to look after my leech, continue to be a slave in my home and continue to think males are the weaker race (at least in the pain department ;o)
Have a nice day, that is all!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ovarian_cyst

Above is some information on cysts on the ovaries.

The opposite to me..

How could anyone not want to go outside and lap up the glorious rays of the sunshine, when the sky is a perfect blue with not a cloud in the sky and a perfect 25 degrees.  Did i just hear someone say a family trip to the waterfalls..?  

Our host son comes from Denmark where today on a lovely summers day it would probably sit at around 20 degrees, and in north Queensland today is a lovely winters day sitting at around 25 degrees.  It's a hard one to explain to a 16 year old, that to us its a little cold to be swimming but we will make an exception and try our luck not to freeze.  

As we walk to our destination for this adventurous Antarctic swim that was only 400m away from the car park, i started to realise holding a 11kg lump and all the equipment to survive our adventure, that family time really is worth every pain, tear and triumph.  

We arrive at the 'rock slides' only to find the only thing sliding down these rocks is my arse as i fall head over heels just trying to navigate to a comfortable place to set up.  The water is not at its usual fast paced and full flowing rapids, but it definitely still looked amazing and worth the walk around the world just to get to it.  

Now this is where the fun begins.  Me and water have never really been friends, i prefer to walk on the other side of the road just to ignore it, but pride aside today because its 'family day'.  I put my lump on the ground so i can off load my survival kit only to find she continues to roll down the rock like a marble down a hill.  After i do a commando roll to save her from sure injury i get this sinking feeling like 'oh god what are we doing, wouldn't a park be easier'.  

Isn't it funny how a shadow is you but just different, if that makes sense.  That is me and my daughter.  She is me all over in so many ways, but she is completely different.  She loves water, it doesn't matter how she is getting to the water, but she is getting there.  Over, through or down things she WILL get to it.  

Jittering teeth and blue lips i take her for a swim, brave of me i know.  She loves it, she couldn't be happier.  Squealing, laughing and splashing the water, it was like she was made to be in the water.  Why would i be given a child who loves water and i hate it, obviously my husband has a mistake with his sperm, because i know this fault definitely didn't come from me.  

Water scares me for many reason.   Having a child it scares me mostly because of how easy drownings can occur.  They say when something or someone is taken from you, something else or someone else in some unknown way comes into your life.  In a tragic event many years ago, my husbands family went through a horrific experience of loosing their first born, a little boy.  He drowned at the age of 4, a young life lost, a life who never got to experience living.  He now twinkles in the sky and forever in his mothers eye.  

Why would i be given the opposite to me and even more, why would i be given a child who loves something that caused such a tragic moment in my husbands life?  The answer is...... i really don't know but ill embrace the fact that she loves water and make sure she knows the right thing to do in all situations.  We cant always be there for our children or make their decisions for them, but we can love them and teach them whats right and whats wrong.  

Our family day didn't involve to many tears and no scraped knees or tantrums so all in all it was a pretty successful day and definitely worth it.  

Family days are just as important as time to yourself, you need them to stay close to each other but also its just a great chance appreciate each others individuality.  It also makes you realise its a lot more fun to have a disfunctional and disorganised family!  

Mine was this big ..............

You know the story of my 'fish was this big' or in other words 'my fish is always going to be bigger then yours'.  Life as a mother has its ups and downs but i guarantee you one thing... your child to you, is always the best child in the world.   I have noticed in my short time in the profession of mother hood there is a lot of competition or comparison between mothers and their Children.
Ohhh guess what Franky did today, he basically did a backflip and he is only 1... ohh no way you will never guess what little Dora did today she basically explored the whole world and did a back flip and she is only 11 months and 29 days old.
We all do it, even if we notice or don't notice that we are doing it, we all like to think in some big or small way our child is better then another at something.  At times i think the reasons why mothers get together is to compare notes and see how big their fish is and talk about the even bigger one that got away.
It's not at all a bad thing to want a child who can do backflips and better yet explore the world but i do think what is more important is to just except your child for who they are and if anything just want the best for your child to their best ability.
I have noticed a lot people talk about having a text book baby or text book child, so in other words a child who hits all their milestones at the stated times in books etc.. so really these mothers think their child wears a halo and walks around in white... i say to all you mothers out there burn the bloody text, book because i'm rewriting the damn book.  I think mostly mothers are just to afraid to tell the truth and ask for help or admit defeat.  My textbook would probably be a lot more accurate.... NO CHILD IS PERFECT ITS IMPOSSIBLE, and if so my child is the closest to it <-------- JOKE.
Becoming a mother has definitely not been anything like i expected... you know the pretty music that plays at the right time in the movies with the smiles and giggles and the flowing hair as your child runs through the poppy fields in the pretty dress chasing after lassie.  I think my movie is a little more like ..... the scary music that plays at the right time, as this cheeky grinning not so angelic sticky face and hands child chases after you with a devilish laugh.
To finish i would just like to say......  my fish was seriously the biggest fish you have ever seen, possibly even bigger then a whale.

Can you hear that....????

Do you think that the workmen next door building a house could respect the fact that today is my one and only day off a week that i have to myself.  NO... instead they insist on building this structure and continuing to ruin my peace and quiet.  Last night i basically had a 3 hour debate with my daughter at midnight and these people insist on taking away any moments or seconds of my wanted silence.  

Is midnight when the ghosts and boogie monsters come out?  I cant remember its been a few years... Mini me seems to wake at this time of night most nights.  The only other real answer i can think of is she is transforming into a werewolf or even potentially a vampire.. its not like she already doesn't suck enough life out of me.  The good news for today is that... ITS DAYCARE DAY.  The bad news is... its always a hard day.  

Even after a hard night out of partying at midnight and screaming like a 16 year old teenager at a rock concert she still seems to wake up at her usual time, happy as a pig in mud, like nothing happened.  I wake up at the usual time in the usual manner of crankiness and unattractiveness and definitely not happiness.  Our routine continues on like usual, making a mess, causing stress and insisting on making me get wrinkles and going grey at the age of 24.  

By the time we are in the car for daycare im a tad excited at this point by the thought of potentially being able to go back to bed in approximately 30 minutes or so, depending on how quickly i can off load my package.  I get to the daycare and everything is fine, walk into daycare and everything is still fine, we say good morning to the teachers and everything is still going like gold.  Wow so far so good... hold on, this is me we are talking about, something has to go wrong.  I go to put my baby vampire down and BAM, the screams of a thousand tortured rats comes hollowing out like its life or death.  She hates daycare, i love daycare... why cant we agree on anything.  She rips my heart out throws it on the floor and continues to scream holding onto it.  

I quickly walk out, still hearing the sounds of baby vampie, get in the car and drive like a heartless, crushed mother would.  I get to the end of the street and im already bopping away to the radio like i hadn't just devastated my little blood sucker.  Some people would call that heartless, but if you remember before, i did tell you she took my heart when she ripped it out a few moments ago.  

It plays on my mind that she is so upset but i have to remember im entitled to have a moment to myself even if i do get a sense of hurt or pain i think every mother needs, her space, her time and her sanity to transform back to super Mum.  Now back to can you hear that...??  Other then the stupid workmen trying to earn a living by annoying the crap out of me... you can hear nothing, its the sound of peace and quiet, rest and recuperation.  My time, my space and the my Sharda all to myself.  

The things we do...

I had a funny moment today that made me smile and realise we do strange things in pressure situations as a mother.  My mountain moving daughter was well and truly testing her powers on me again and in a weak moment of what can i do for peace and quiet i gave her a pencil... now i know its probably not the best thing to give a 14 month old but seriously i needed something to contain the inner serpent from coming out of her and latching onto my last very moments of sanity.
It went well until i had flash backs from school where the teachers would tell you never put a pencil in your mouth because if you happen to fall this pencil is going to stab and turn into a situation of blue and red sirens.
I saw her have a little fall with the pencil hanging out of her mouth and my heart dropped and panic set in.. she was fine but i needed a quick thinking action plan of how do i salvage this pencil from the beasts mouth.  I did the whole look over there, snatch and hide trick, which im fortunate in the fact it worked.  Now the only problem was in my quick actions i put the pencil down the back of my pants.  It wasnt until later that i was wondering what the strange feeling of something poking me in the butt was when i sat down and got a painful prick that i put my hands down my pants to find the long lost pencil.  I had a chuckle and a quick thought of ohhh the things we do... i also considered it to be karma for giving her the pencil in the first place.  She gets to me even when i think she cant.
This also reminds me of the moment i was unleashing my 24 years of anger onto the Telstra man on the phone and my shadow just wouldnt leave me alone no matter what i gave her... in a desperate situation you do funny things like.... pour marsh mellows down the whole hallway knowing the fact your shadow is going to leave you and eat the trail of these tiny soft sweet squishy things while you continue to eat the telstra man alive.  Not only did it give me time to finish my meal of the telstra man, it also gave me hope for next time i need to do something and have a little peace and quiet.  


AAHHHHH THE THINGS WE DO....

Midnight feelings

Most people would say where do i start, i can start with saying where do i stop.  The thoughts that go through your head as a mother are definitely not peaches and roses, love and laughter.  

The feeling of helplessness and failure are words i would say only just start to describe the feelings i have at 12 o'clock in the evening after your child has had a massive tantrum for what ever reason that may be, with screams that would make any person stop and stare.  

Trying to recover from a low point in your life is only made weaker when you have no control over a 14 month old child who has the determination of a football team and the fans supporting them to win by a thousand points.  The strength and mindset of a 14 month old is an amazing power to bring any adult down to their knees begging and asking for help or some sort of reasoning with this child.  

The feelings of hate slither through your mind, exactly what i am hating it the part i can not completely understand.  Do i hate my child… I would hope not, Do i hate the fact that I don't have the same strength  in the mind as her…. YES.  I get huge feelings of anger and feelings of wanting to hurt a 14 month old for the reason being…. I WANT SLEEP and the feeling of having strength over her being i cant win in a mental battle.  What is more important then a child at the point of exhaustion is… Rest or sleep and a prayer for some sort of divine intervention to magically come and sort this shit out for you.  

There is this feeling you get when your completely done for answers, it builds up and comes in waves… some would call it panic or anxiety, i would call it mother hood.  A mother is this powerful person with control over another life or lives.  This power is only made worse by the fact you have these children or child who i believe actually has power over you.  Nothing else can make you love and hate with in a matter of seconds, a tear and a smile with in moments.  i would not call a child helpless or vaunerable they are words used to describe a mother who is to care for these powerful creatures called children.  

To speak the language of a child would nearly be as powerful as to find world peace, well at least a mother peace and considering women are half of the population it would certainly contribute to world peace.  I don't have any inner strength at the moments to be enjoying the ups and downs of parenthood or mostly in my case motherhood.  Where is this bliss and feelings of such a natural job.  I feel like i have the right to be angry at my child and to yell and scream and explode with helplessness but as soon as ANY other human being attempts make any nasty or anger feelings towards my child my lioness comes out to play and i protect this thing that i myself want to throttle and make world war 3 with.  

Perhaps im only talking on my behalf when it comes to my experience as a mother, maybe every other mother out there got a small portion of my bliss and happiness and my punishment for what ever reason is to have a child with mental strength that could move mountains.  

I could ask myself oh what have i done wrong or where did i go wrong, but my conclusion is that there is no wrong or right, there is just  good times and bad times, some have more of one than the other.   Its amazing how this small creature can make every other aspect of my life also look so low and dull.  My feelings of failure and worthlessness come to play into all aspects of my life when im tired and angry and just wish life was 'easy'.  

Always think,  there is worse off then yourself.  The gibberish of a 14 month old = a thousand swear words and tongue lashings right at this point.  To conclude i would just like to say to the stalk or cabbage patch or god or who ever gave me this Child… Thank you, with the strength this child has in mind and spirit, she is going to do great things in life.. im just her stepping stone to world domination i think.