Harrison Saves The World...

IMAGE : MORGUEFILE.COM | Harrison Saves The World

I watched The Voice Australia finale last night and I grinned like an idiot all the way through. I grinned, I said "bless" more than once and I teared up at the end when Seal gave his proud fatherly speech to his newly adopted fifth child, Harrison Craig. Let it be said that tearing up during a reality TV program is not something I usually do, nor easily admit to, but COME ON! It was Harrison, with his little stutter, constant smile of gratitude and his big voice! After such the ridiculous cacophony of bad behaviour displayed mostly by men this week wasn't it nice to see such a lovely, humble, courteous little fella from Melbourne who adores his Mum and Brother take out the prize? C'mon, say it with me. Bless!

To Hell In A Hand Basket : A Week In The Politics Of Being A Woman

IMAGE : MORGUEFILE.COM | To Hell In A Hand Basket

Let's just agree now that political commentary is not my thing. It's not something that I usually have strong opinions about (despite the fact that I do quite enjoy 'Q and A' on the ABC and feel VERY grown up when I watch it). So while I won't be making a habit of sharing my views pre-2013 federal election, I do want to acknowledge this particularly grotesque chapter in our political history which has seen one portion of the population celebrating the fact that we have our first female Prime Minister while the other portion works tirelessly to embarrass and humiliate her at every opportunity,  usually using her gender as their vehicle. I don't write this to attract anyone's views on Julia Gillard as a Prime Minister - if that's your response then either I haven't been concise or perhaps you've missed the point entirely. I simply wish to state that this week in particular, Australia has taken a turn for the worst and although I feel proud of the country I live in, I feel a huge sense of disappointment and faithlessness in the people who are meant to call themselves prospective leaders, or objective media messengers.

Overthinkers Anonymous - Meeting In Progress

IMAGE : PINTEREST | Overthinkers Anon.

I have recently come to realise that I'm a chronic overthinker.

I think, then I worry, then I stress, then I internalise. I hang onto things for as long as I possibly can, wringing every troublesome detail out of my initial thought. Mostly I do my worrying at night.  Sometimes, when there are many trivial thoughts to process, I finally get a little sleep just as the birds start to make their 5.00am noises alerting the 'normal' people that it's time to arise from their blissful, non-thinking slumber. (This actually goes a long way in explaining my unconditional love of morning caffeine). It often begins with one little thing that happened that day. How did my day go? How did I treat other people generally or how was I perceived? Perhaps I said something to someone which could somehow possibly be misconstrued? Did I overstep a boundary? Or perhaps I've forgotten some minor detail about an up and coming school project or dance rehearsal? God forbid.

Your Natural Calling (A Tale Of Career Confusion)..

IMAGE : MORGUEFILE.COM | Your Natural Calling (Career Confusion)

Do you ever feel as though you've missed your natural calling? Is the career that you're in, something you kinda fell into, seemed to be pretty good at, but not necessarily the thing that lights your fire? Do you often have the 'what if' conversation with yourself about the choices you made when you were at the beginning of the career crossroad? I do. Since having kids, I've given a great deal of thought to this because quite a bit of re-assessment happens if or when you decide to return to work as a parent.

A Good Lesson Learned..

IMAGE : ADELAIDE NOW | A Good Lesson Learned

It's very easy being "white", isn't it? Seriously! Give it some thought because really, we don't usually need to. We drift ignorantly through our lives never truly giving any thought to how our God - given features are perceived by the outside world on a daily basis. I was fortunate enough to switch TV channels at the perfect moment last Friday night - just in time to witness the devastated reaction of indigenous Australian AFL player Adam Goodes when a young female spectator hurled the word "ape..." at him as he neared the boundary line. I say fortunate because in that split second I felt something a little life - changing. I felt that (like Adam Goodes) I too had been hit by a bolt of lightning. I watched as he turned and pointed an accusatory finger directly at the young female culprit (equally as shocked by her youthful demeanour as all of us) in order to have her removed. Then I watched him deflate like a man - sized balloon suddenly jabbed violently by a giant needle. I felt the humiliation and a lifetime of discrimination come to head in a moment. And I watched despondently as Adam promptly left the ground, unable to celebrate a win at the final siren.

Friday Thoughts From A Random Mind

IMAGE : THE MOTHER LOAD

Miss A this morning: "Mum....do you feel a lot like yourself today?"
Me: "Well, yes actually I do. Do you?"
Miss A: "Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

*looks at me like I've gone mad then skips away*

Um - what just happened? .....

The "Ugly" Baby Sealed It For Me.....

OK. Over the years, I've managed to tolerate and largely ignore the stupid, childish, often misogynistic rubbish spewing from the various male dominated sports shows currently broadcast on Australian commercial TV. I don't like them, but I can usually roll my eyes and simply scoff at the rants of certain boneheaded ex- football players because my partner often tunes in (admittedly more for the sport discussion). But tolerating these shows is getting harder, and this week I think they've just turned me from a reluctantly tolerant female viewer to a ranting, raving oestrogen - dominated hater.

39.98....

IMAGE : MORGUEFILE.COM | 39.98

As I enjoy my last few days of my thirties, I'm reflecting upon the many things that have changed within me over the past decade, which I'm sure will go down in my history as my most significant, life-changing and challenging era. If only we had the chance to go back to our younger selves and tell them some home truths about the wisdom you gain as the years peel away. So, in the spirit of being a 39.98 year old, my open letter to myself reads as follows:

My Private Freedom Of Choice - We Chose Private Schooling

IMAGE : MORGUEFILE.COM | My Private Freedom Of Choice

There is a debate raging in many online forums and TV panel programs currently which tends to get me a little worked up. Although I'm not an expert in the field of its data analysis or the indeed the official pros and cons, I feel very strongly that I'm in a slightly judged group; I've often considered public comment in the past (usually in response to comments made by the Jane Caro audience), but I've never followed through due to the inevitable backlash I'm sure I'd receive. Instead I've done the cowardly thing and 'unfollowed' Jane in social media, not at all because I dislike her (I quite like her in actual fact), but because of the narrow - minded comments from some of her virtual audience members that usually accompany her campaign messages. 

Sunday Thoughts From a Random Mind

IMAGE : THE MOTHER LOAD

Miss A slid into bed with me this morning and announced that she'd had a lovely dream about eating spaghetti (food often features rather heavily in her consciousness). Before I had time to answer, she asked me the following:

"Mummy, did you have a dream about picking up a friendly worm?"

"Or did you dream about a giant broccoli tree that you needed lots of stools to reach the top?"

Um, no I didn't. But I like the way you think.

Tales Of Public Humiliation (Parenting 101)

IMAGE : THE MOTHER LOAD | Tales Of Public Humiliation

I was reading an article recently about the most embarrassing moments people have experienced with their kids and the more I read, the more I found myself scoffing at the stories, knowing that if there had been a competition my four year old would have won in outstanding fashion. 

And That's All I'll Say About That...

IMAGE : THE MOTHER LOAD| And That's All I'll Say

Today, I feel a strange sense of calm and reflective finality. It's like that feeling when you close the final page on a life-changing book that is full of highs and lows but doesn't necessarily have a fairytale ending. I feel as though we're closing a door on cancer for the first time in years. I must note that no one in my house has it and for that I'm incredibly grateful (particularly given I've observed the kind of bravery one requires to navigate its journey and I'm convinced it's not in me) but I've lived relatively closely with it for years, on and off.

Yesterday we said goodbye to one of our dear family members, aged 46, mother of two beloved teenage boys who fought the bravest of battles for twelve years. In February, we said goodbye to my dear friend, aged 41, mother of three beloved children who I was lucky enough to share a wonderful five year friendship with as she battled so galantly. Both had cancer, both were incredibly positive and brave mothers, and both left us with many important life lessons while they were here; lessons that mean even more to us now that they're gone.

So perhaps it's time for cancer to just sod off and give everyone some health and happiness for a while, eh? We need to now focus on the healing of our friends and loved ones who remain, instead of living with the impending grey cloud of sadness, the roller coaster ride of test results, and the private dread that comes with observing (or living with) a terminal illness.

And that is all I'll say about that. Much love to the two special people in my world who are now at peace. Always with us, remembered with love, never forgotten. 

www.bcna.org.au

The Lingering Lessons From Great Ormond Street

IMAGE: MORGUEFILE.COM | Lingering Lessons Of Great Ormond

Wow. Has anyone watched the BBC documentary, Great Ormond Street? It follows the day to day ups and downs of a children's hospital in Britain and it's enthralling and heart - wrenching all at once. If you ever need to re-group and find that sense of appreciation for the fortunate life you lead (if indeed like me, child illness is not a part of your world), this is the program to watch (complete with the aloe vera tissues - you'll need 'em). 

The Legacy Of My Friend, The Warrior Woman

IMAGE: THE MOTHER LOAD | The Legacy Of My Friend, The Warrior Woman

Although I don't feel the usual upbeat sense of creativity and enthusiastic desire to pour words onto the page for the sake of good therapy, I feel it's important to make a note of this time, this strange time I'm living where my dear friend is gone. The house is quiet, there are no random phone calls, emails or text messages containing the usual enjoyable nothingness of our everyday life. There is a void now which was always filled by our wonderful female 'friendship-py' things. And it's that I'm having such trouble getting used to. The quiet. The absence of our daily, often very personal conversations. 

Are We There Yet?!! My School Holiday Mantra

IMAGE: THE MOTHER LOAD | Are We There Yet?

Okay - need some serious, urgent school holiday therapy. STAT. Breathe in and out with me. Repeat. A little better, until someone comes and asks me for the 23rd time if they can have a chocolate biscuit. Nonetheless, breathe again.

My kids are officially driving me NUTS. It's mid January and we have exactly 19 days left before the school routine kicks back in.  We're having some nice lazy days at home, getting good rest, sometimes swimming, eating and supposedly enjoying each other's company. While it sounds good in theory, something's wrong - GET ME OUTTA HERE! Who are these noisy, lecherous, demanding creatures who require loud, inane conversation with me at every possibly moment of the day??! A moment's peace - PLEASE!

Back Away From The Mirror (And Other 2013 Resolutions)

IMAGE: THE MOTHER LOAD | Back Away From The Mirror

Happy 2013! Our little family has had such a Christmas break this year. It's been so nice spending time at home for a change enjoying a quiet, almost empty city while everyone else is seemingly doing battle in the car park of their favourite beach side destination *wink*. Having a backyard swimming pool for the first time ever made for some lovely, lazy days with good friends, happy children, gallons of sunscreen and most importantly, copious amounts of leftovers. Which gets me to my next point. Given that the New Year is in its infancy, the term 'resolution' is still fresh in my mind and I still feel I have a fighting chance of fulfilling mine despite my continuous attempts to sabotage myself at every turn. This year, I went with the old female favourite: 

"Lose weight, get some exercise and eat less.". 

Employment, Child Care And The Ultimate In Mother Guilt

IMAGE: THE MOTHER LOAD | Employment And Childcare

 I was chatting to a girlfriend recently who is the Mum of an eighteen month old little boy and she mentioned that she was toying with the idea of returning to work, under the right circumstances. It made me remember what it was like making similar decisions 8 years ago when Miss O was the same age. For me, the decision was like solving one of those annoying puzzle tile things where you have to shift each tile around the box in order to reveal the big picture. 

Unmarried With Kids and the 2010 Judgement List

IMAGE: MORGUEFILE.COM | Unmarried With Kids

Recently I was contacted to be interviewed in a leading parenting mag about our choice to be unmarried with kids. The article ended up being a nice, objective view of both sides of the fence if you will. It got me thinking though - do people REALLY care whether or not we're married? To be honest, I figured most people didn't even know, let alone care. After reading the other side of the argument though, I'm really curious to know if people regard us differently for the choice we've made.Our families have never expressed any opinion either way - I was born out of wedlock in the early 70's so I can't imagine my parents having any kind of objection to our choice. These days however, my perception is that the right to choose marriage (or not) is yours and is no longer at the top of what I refer to as the Judgement List (cultural differences aside).

So what makes up the 2010 Judgement List? (Insert drumroll here). Yet again - parenting! And in particular motherhood and the individual choices us mothers make. Never in my life have I felt more judged, intimidated, and incompetent than when my children were first born. Roll that up with the euphoric emotions that accompany the birth of a new baby and recovery from the most physical walloping of your life and WHAM! No wonder people refer to you during that period as 'hormonal' (or was that just me?). Breast vs. bottle, disposable vs. cloth, routine vs. free-for-all, co-sleeping vs. own room, the list is endless. And even the most previously unopinionated woman will have something to say on each subject in defence of themselves or as an attack on another. Mark my words and guilty as charged. Even if I never said it - I silently judged many times (particularly when I witnessed a baby drinking COKE from its bottle - you know who you are).

So to all those mothers out there - particularly the new ones. Follow your instincts, not someone else's. Believe it or not, it's inbuilt. You know what's going to work for you - it's a tough job and you need to formulate your own plan to do it well. Take all the advice, then kick it to the curb if it doesn't suit.

That's my advice.

School Tomorrow! I survived!

IMAGE : THE MOTHER LOAD

Yep - I think I may have just come out the other end of the school holidays with all my faculties relatively intact! I'm lovingly gazing at a fully stacked school bag and freshly pressed uniform, silently celebrating the fact that she becomes someone else's responsibility between the hours of 8.30am and 3.20pm each day! Is that bad? Yes, I know. 

But since day one of the school hols (which seem to have begun around the turn of this century - was it really only 7 weeks ago??) she has literally been counting the days until school returns. Either the 'Entertainment Director' in our family needs to be sacked (me), or she just LOVES school THAT much - I suspect, and I sincerely hope it's the latter! So it's a fond farewell to the severely slack bedtime routine, the sleep ins, the trips to the beach, the chocolate frogs and more often than not average snack/ meal choices and hello to Grade One, complete with two new front teeth. Oh and the appallingly contact-covered text books - how in God's name does one become skilled at using contact? Just how many hours do you need to log before there are no bubbles or creases???? At least now I know that contact CAN in fact be delicately removed if need be. A worthy skill I would say, and one I will continue to use on an annual basis.

In The Beginning....

IMAGE : THE MOTHER LOAD | In The Beginning

I have a theory that the art of motherhood is a skill best shared between others for the sake of its own betterment. That being said, I certainly don't profess that it's a skill I've even come close to perfecting, despite my continuing best efforts! 

Miss O is six and actually thinks she's fourteen. That's our problem number one and the reason for much of the stuff I will clumsily spill onto this blog in the coming posts! Miss A is eighteen months - what a joyous age. I'd forgotten how much they love you at this age - you can do NO wrong and I'm now keely aware that the pedestal you're on soon decreases in size! But for now, I'm lapping it up.