#758 Her encouraging nature


See that light? You can see the setting sun creating a circle, a halo, far on the water of Port Phillip Bay.

There is a reason why I say that.

Today I did the usual at kinder drop off. I hung around while baby girl settled in, watching her paint, observing the kids around her, looking around while parents came, kissed their little ones goodbye, and then left.

Still, I stayed behind.

A boy saw baby girl painting, and decided he too would paint at the easel next to her. On the smock went, and he reached over to grab a paintbrush sticking out of a cup of blue paint.

He painted somewhat haphazardly, not really sure of what he was doing, glancing over at baby girl, while also distractedly looking around the classroom to see what else was happening. A few minutes passed, and while baby girl was carefully painting with her fourth colour, he took off his smock, and walked off, leaving his painting hanging there.

Baby girl, suddenly noticing his absence, leant over to his easel. (It was a plain piece of paper, with a few streaks of blue. I know kinder art is very preliminary, but this didn’t resemble much of anything).

And viewing his artwork, she said happily “oh, he did a great job!”

My heart SOARED. No, my daughter was not misguided. She was not ignorant in her paintings. She was not daft, and didn’t know the difference between what was good, and what was not.

She had compassion. She held encouragement in her soul.

It was something that lacked in others. It was something that lacked in a similar girl her age, who had seen baby girl drawing a picture at a party, and said to her out loud, in front of me, after I had complimented baby girl on her “great work!” –

“I don’t like it, that doesn’t look nice.”

You see, it’s not about the artwork. Rather it is about the character. For me, it is not whether baby girl turns out to be a Picasso or not. For me, it is about whether she has a heart or not.

I was initially worried when baby girl received that negative comment from that girl. I was worried that the girl’s negativity, rudeness, and mean manners, would rub off on baby girl, and turn her usual bright happy and smiley soul, into a cranky, angry, and negative one.

But then when she said about that boys picture, with the same encouragement as those she looks up to “great job!” I knew we had done something right.

Like a light, encouraging Hope, amidst the darkness.

And here, for arts sake, baby girl against the sunset. Hubbie reckons the power lines kill the photo. But I know what makes it 🙂



#754 5 out of 6 ain’t too bad

I have already driven 5 hours today.

Off to the other side of town with baby girl for an appointment: 1 hour 20 minutes

Then to my parents place for a few hours: 20 minutes

Back in the car to drive back home (now through Long Weekend traffic, general bullshit inefficient drivers, and car accidents where rubberneckers couldn’t help but slow down to look at a collision that WASN’T in their way): 2 hours and 20 minutes

Back in the car after a 5 minute stopover at home, now to drive to work: 1 hour and 20 minutes


And that’s not even ALL of it. Because I still have to drive an hour home later on… at the terrific-ly beautiful time of 3-4am.

Yep. All you Aussie peeps will be dreaming your sweet little eyelashes off, and I will be driving down the freeways, getting home as late as possibly 5am.

YAY! for me (not sarcastic, at all).

Seriously though, what the hell have I got to be grateful for here?


  1. One hard day like this is almost down, with only one to go
  2. I am in a good mood despite racking up so many k’s todays
  3. And I have driven 5, out of 6 hours. I’m almost there.

So close.

I am happy, so very happy, despite all of this, and being happy while at work, amidst busy days, and so so so so SO much driving….???

It makes me even more happy. And grateful. 🙂



#710 Secret good news


Photo by Ben White on Unsplash

My gratitude today comes from the happiness of another.

Because you see, someone pulled me over this afternoon, and said with a broad wave of their hands “I’m pregnant!”

And I stared at her in shock and awe, and ultimate critique, trying to work out if what she was saying was actually true.

“Are you serious?” I squinted at her.


“You’re not joking?” I asked solemnly.


“You’re pregnant?” I was now incredulous.


I gasped in disbelief and happiness, giving her a big hug and proceeding to say “oh my God,” and “you’ve blown me away” about 100 times through hurried, intense and excited conversation, for the next 10 minutes.

I was in absolute shock and wonder, the epitome of a babbling idiot as I wrangled with my thoughts amongst it all.


Because this wasn’t only pregnancy news…

Not only was this friend, pregnant…

But she was a friend, who I didn’t think was trying to get pregnant.

Also, she was a friend, who was in a serious relationship, yet I hadn’t thought pregnancy was in the immediate future for them.

She was a friend, who was also, a work colleague.

And this work colleague, was in a relationship with a man that not many people knew about…

This work colleague and her partner had kept their relationship under wraps, especially at work…

Because her partner, worked with her. With us!


I couldn’t take it! I was dying. Can you understand why I was dying?! I had already known about the relationship early on, as she has confided in me many things, just as I have to her over the years, and she was one of the first at work who I told that I was pregnant, all those years ago… and now, she was telling ME.

That she was pregnant. Oh my God.

I was over the moon for her. She deserved it.

No, really. She deserved it.

She really, truly deserved this amazing blessing, because in recent years she had had a few very hard spells.

I had felt for her on so many an occasion, but didn’t know how to help. All I could do, was listen, and try to lend some advice.

And as all good friends do, bitch and whinge and moan with her.

My faith in Karma and life, is further cemented by this news. I don’t know why bad things happen. I don’t know why there are bullies, and aggressors; subsequently I don’t know why there are people who are harassed and victimised. And I certainly don’t understand how when someone turns to you for help, you can turn to the side of evil, and ignore their plea, instead going with the majority, with the laugher, with the mockers and the sheep and the boring old FLOCK.

But this news today… it is a LONG time coming.

My work colleague has been through so much. And this news is just proof to me, that eventually, your deeds catch up to you, whether they be good, or bad.

Her good deeds have paid her dividends. She got herself the guy, and now she got herself a baby 🙂

And for the ‘others?’ There is no greater revenge than success and achievement.

Did she go out to seek retribution, no. But the beautiful thing is, the Universe evened it ALL out for her.



#675 Helping Hubbie no.2

I was rushing around the house 20 minutes before leaving for work, trying to organise some Christmas treats to bring in.

Usually I bake gingerbread men and spread the Christmas cheer. I still had tradies in the kitchen yesterday, so freshly baked gingerbread was NOT going to happen.

I got baby girl popping in chocolates in little bags for me, while I started writing on the little cards for each of my work colleagues.


15 minutes now. Crap. I still had to eat.

A pleading look, a sweet question, and one fast Hubbie later, and I was eating this:


He looks out for me and I love him so much for it. I asked him to make me a cheese and tomato sandwich, and he threw in some cucumber and ham and sprinkled salt and pepper all Masterchef-style, and bam! lunch done.

I drove off 5 minutes late with a bag full of individually-wrapped and personalised Christmas chocolates, but I didn’t care because my belly was happy.


And on a side note… I (well baby girl) wrapped 13 lots of choc for my work buddies… though I really would have wanted to do less. And why? Because Christmas. Though there are people I am closer to than others, and some that I feel are NOT deserving of treats as are others… I just couldn’t omit certain people simply because of our work relationship or what I think about them most of the time.

And so then I thought, ‘if I can ignore the crap for one festive day, how about we ignore it for the other 364 days of the year?’


Food for thought…



#671 My daughter’s nature, compared to ‘theirs’

I am going to say something a bit controversial.

I’m going to say it, after manic deliberation driving home tonight, the blood in my body bubbling like a hot rakija on the stove, promising to boil up and overflow at any moment if a close eye is not kept on it.

I’m also going to say it, after considerate thought, while I was sitting next to baby girl in bed just earlier, settling her, soothing her tired and frustrated face, and thinking back on the events of the day in complete calm and quiet.

I am not saying this carelessly.

I am not saying this casually.

I am not saying this with malice – I am only stating the cold, hard facts.

Some children, are absolute moles.

They are arrogant, rude, inconsiderate, bossy, and mean little MOLES.

And unfortunately baby girl was the brunt of their mole-ness today.

Every parent is biased, I know.

Every parent thinks their child is the best. The most smartest. The most beautiful. The most funniest. The most entertaining. The most amazing being in the entire world.

And you know what? Every parent is right.

Simultaneously, all our children can be a bit difficult at times, to put it mildly.

They can be obnoxious. Throw tantrums. Break things for attention. Yell and scream ’til they get what they want.

It’s really annoying, sure. But they are learning. And we are teaching them through this thing called ‘Life.’ They all have their moments, and they all test us parents in different ways.

Baby girl gets upset when she doesn’t get what she wants. She does get IT a lot of the time. But often I say no, just to prove a point, and I tell her above her crying protests

“life isn’t fair honey, get used to it.”

Baby girl will also be stubborn. Like I am not allowed to walk this way through the house, but that way. Just because.

I am not allowed to hold her Anna doll this way, but that way.

I can’t buckle her up in the car until she is seated and has properly prepared herself in it (another OCD contender anyone?)

She has these funny and weird routines and if we don’t comply, she will cross her arms, stamp her foot once, and say it a low cross tone “me very upset with you right now, hrmph.”

It is actually kind of totally adorable.

You know what is not adorable though? Yelling. Screaming. Snatching. Telling someone to go away. To not play with them. Telling someone they can’t join in. Screaming at them not to touch their toys. Teasing them. Making fun of them. Stirring them up. Belittling them.

Bullying them.

This is what baby girl endured today. All she wanted to do was play, and what she got in return was a big pile of mole-play.

And after all of that she still wanted to hug mole-child goodbye, and was refused it… and when asking if mole-child would visit her at our house, got a prompt “no.”

I can’t begin to describe the intense anger and frustration coupled with deep-seated emotion that ravaged loose inside of me when all this was happening. Baby girl was crying out, literally, for play, for friendship, for fun, and all she got was a whole lot of shit in return. She so much wanted to make a connection, and to see my happy and carefree girl so upset, frustrated, confused and sad, broke me up into a million pieces inside.

Without parenting, or telling off mole-child whose parents were absent, I did what I could only do… give a few choice words of my own – “that is not very nice, would you like it if someone did that to you?” – and told baby girl to “leave the rude kids alone.”

But I was furious. And later, thinking of the events that had transpired, it led me to one big realisation.

Baby girl, actually is, THE BEST.

She is an angel. Sure she is sometimes possessive of her toys. But she eventually shares, and loves playing with others happily for hours on end.

Sure she is a typical 4 year-old and wants things her way. But she will never yell at another, and would rather follow the other child’s game than stamp her foot down (kids are the exception!) and miss out on play.

Sure she sometimes plays up and deliberately goes against the grain just to grind you. But she has a kind, generous and compassionate heart, and just wants to get along.

She is not angry, mean, or rude. She is a friendly, happy-go-lucky child who just wants to engage, jump, laugh a lot and have fun.

When someone yells, she stands back in confusion. And tonight, so did I.

Because my daughter, is not a mole-child. And I am so grateful for that.


#654 Mills Beach Love… and the ‘true story’ behind the photos

There is a whole other side to the sweet, loving and idyllic photos that people post so often on social media.

And that definitely includes MINE.

I generally do post more happy stuff… I used to sometimes rant about something that might annoy me, and only after reading other rants on facebook, did I realise it was really unnecessary, and negative-drawing. I didn’t really feel much better about myself, my life, or that person when I read such quotes, and it made me realise that stuff like that was not needed online.

Not to confuse a day-to-day ‘I’m so pissed at the traffic today’ rant with a serious issue that needs attention and addressing. No that is fine, pull ALL the support and help from ALL the social media outlets, and gather the troops around as much as you need with your furious words. We need your PASSION.

So, I do post occasionally about our day-to-day lives, more so when we are doing something fun – I mean, does anyone wanna see us sitting on the couch in our pjs eating breakfast and watching Shimmer and Shine? Yeah I thought not.

shimmer and shine

But the story behind the photo often runs so much deeper, it travels something like an episode of Mr. Bean, it can be that frustratingly hilarious and stupid.

Take TODAY. Perfect example.

It was hot, and we went to the beach. I posted a photo of Hubbie and baby girl… for certain reasons I will not repeat that photo here, but instead here is another:


You get my drift. Relaxation, fun in the sun, blue waters, chilling in the shade as I watch my family in the water…

Good times…

??? Or not?

Here is the REAL story. Because yes I am grateful we went to one of our favourite beaches today as a family on one of our few days off together, but seriously… we were ALL nearly crying at various stages.

Firstly, we got there late. 3:30pm, and this was after we stopped at Baker’s for some bread rolls, and Hubbie got a cheap knife from Woolies (more on that later) because he had forgotten to bring one from home, and then because he had a couple of beers for himself, he was ever so kind, through the 30+ degree heat of the day, to head over to the nearby Dan Murphy’s to get me some kind of mixed drink.

Hubbie and I hadn’t had lunch. Baby girl was the only fed one.

Arriving at the hottest time of the day with several bags, 3 beach chairs, a folded up tent, towels, and walking about in the hot sand when we were hungry and starving, is trying enough.

But we did it. We set up the tent, almost stuffing it up (but we made it!) and then I just launched into the water where baby girl was already playing, sitting down immediately it was that bloody beautifully warm.

So, all good. I headed back to the tent where Hubbie was getting some stuff ready, applying sunscreen for himself, etc etc… I went to get the drink Hubbie got for me.

Rekorderlig is not paying me but I won’t say no if they come knocking. 

So I found this cider and I was like “yes!” as it’s been ages since I had one. I went to open it up, looking at him questioningly as I said “screw top?”

“Yeah,” he replied casually, at the same time looking over to the bottle in my hand and his face dropping. Because he just realised that it is in fact NOT a screw top, and it required a bottle opener.


I sighed. I hadn’t eaten, Hubbie was getting crankier by the second, I could just feel the waves of irritation blowing off of him, and now we had no opener.

I wanted a bloody drink.

“We have one in the car,” he said, and I relaxed somewhat.

The way I am obsessed about tissue boxes being in every part of the house, scissors and nail clippers and nail filers being both upstairs and downstairs, he is a total fuss-pot and needs to have bottle openers scattered everywhere, house, car and probably his pants, because, IN CASE.

“Can you put some sunscreen on my back?” I asked him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Is that before or after you want me to get the bottle opener and make your lunch?”

I ignored him and smiled. “Yes now.” But we were already getting to that point.

So he went and got the bottle opener. I had a drink, and took the above photo. Fine. I joined him and baby girl in the shallow waters, and we splashed about. Also good. And then he went back to the tent to make my lunch.

Now, I didn’t tell him to make my lunch. We had previously decided on grabbing some of those spinach and cheese/pizza rolls at Baker’s as it was a quick and easy bite especially when we were at the beach. I would have made a pasta salad and brought it with us if our stove was connected – our house and kitchen area is still a mess. So this is what I was thinking, this is what we even said out loud to each other… but then this dude of mine, somehow decided that it would be easier, to buy plain rolls at Baker’s, and then fill them… himself…

You know what he brought with him? Tuna, feta, and tomato. On a 34 degree day amidst SAND.

MORE on that debacle later.

Meanwhile, baby girl and I were in the water. It was amazing, and we were having a ball. I kept asking her, “do you have to go pee?” because I was just getting this vibe off her, I know her so well. She was saying no, so I would let the topic go, but then she’d pipe up “I don’t have to go pee.”

When she says she doesn’t have to go pee, I KNOW she HAS to go and pee.

I finally convinced her to go and pee before coming back. “I promise honey, we are coming back, I wouldn’t lie to you.” She took my hand and off we went.

Now, this is a purely female thing, and I say this because I told Hubbie and he had no idea… but after being in the water for a bit, when us chicks have to pee later, sometimes the urine comes out warm. I know, I’m sorry, using words like URINE and all, bad enough I’m saying PEE. I think it has something to do with our nether-regions being all cold, and our urine isn’t actually warm, it’s our parts that our cold, therefore our urine feels warm.

Enough explanation, if anyone actually knows, please advise in the comments below.

I sat baby girl on the toilet seat, and waited. She immediately yelled “ouch!” and started to whinge/cry. I ascertained that it was her pee, as she has reacted a bit like that before, but not so strongly. I was telling her, comforting her and saying “it’s just a bit warm, everything is ok, it’s not that bad,” but then she suddenly wasn’t peeing – she was holding on – and I was getting worried/upset. Worried because it is not good to hold in your pee (being a Mum shit like this scares you as kids can easily develop infections) but also upset because it is NOT THAT BAD AND SHE IS BEING A DRAMA QUEEN.

For at least 5 minutes I stayed with her in the loo as she got upset at not peeing/holding it in. I tried to console her, then I played bad cop and was like “we’ll go home if you don’t go toilet, you have to go!” But she was STILL upset and said “go home.”

Go home? This girl LOVES the water! Something must not have been right if she was happy to go home.

I got her out of there, REALLY mad. I stomped/limped across the hot sand, baby girl limping too behind me, as we got to Hubbie…

slaving away in the tent.

“I am not happy!” I told him, proceeding to go on about how she wouldn’t ‘go,’ but she had to ‘go,’ but she was holding it in. I told him that we were going home. You know… reverse psychology?

And he went “yeah let’s go… it’s been a shit day.”


He continued. “I’m never doing this again!” He had his newly-bought $3 knife, wrappers, a plastic bag as a rubbish bin, food and tins and all kinds of crumbs all around him, and he was SWEATING. “I’m here making YOUR sandwich, it’s a mess, I’m hot, it’s at least 10 degrees hotter in this tent…”

Meanwhile, I was trying SO damn hard to keep my cool. I ended up convincing baby girl to try and pee in the grass behind the beach boxes, as maybe the novelty would help her relax.

Nope. Instead I ended up with something that resembled a small leech on my leg that wouldn’t come off until I scratched it off, and off we went back to the tent, MORE MAD/SAD.

I pretty much ordered her to stay in there, and not move until she went to the loo first. She resigned herself to this, and I sat down to eat this God-damn roll Hubbie had prepared for me, as he sooked and moaned. He pushed the side of the tent away from him as a sudden strong breeze blew the tent wall against him, swearing loudly, and a nearby girl looked over at us as she heard it.

We are European-descendants people. We don’t swear/argue in public. How EMBARRASSMENT. I unleashed.

“Can you fix your f*&king attitude? Honestly all day today, can you just look at yourself? Did I ask you to make me a bloody sandwich, NO, I don’t know what is wrong with you, who brings tuna and feta and a tomato they have to cut at the beach?! There is sand everywhere!”

Like, what the actual fuck.

He went quiet, as I went quiet, chomping on this odd combo of tuna/feta/tomato that somehow worked in a seriously strange way which I would NEVER TELL HIM, picking out the chilli piece in the tuna that he FORGOT TO REMOVE.

Baby girl chomped on a bread roll, Hubbie just sat, and in a few minutes I was back in the water, trying to make her all jelly that she wasn’t allowed to go in. Mean parental tactics maybe, but I was trying to prevent an infection damn it!

In the end, this stubborn girl (wonder where she gets that from?) won. Hubbie ‘let’ her come down to the water, and though I contested it at first, I let it go.

Just like Elsa. LET IT GO.



Which leads me to this next pic.


Don’t they look serene? Isn’t the water just so sparkling and magical? Oh the joy to go to the beach with your family? Oh, WHAT LOVE! ♥♥


You see? You see the shit we had to go through? Hubbie swearing against the tent, the beach, the weather, the sand, about ALL MANNER OF SHIT, baby girl refusing to take a shit or anything else for that matter, and then me, trying to hold the insanity together, and trying so damn hard to ‘think positive.’



Not f*&king easy! :):):)

Yes, we did end up having a really great day, eventually… we were kind of like an overseas commercial at one stage, the one promoting the family having an awesome time on a beach getaway as they all go crazy splashing each other and laughing like mad. We were so Hawaii.  But don’t get too jelly, because when we got home, we were tired and cranky, ate dinner late, Hubbie was a yo-yo as his mood swung from relieved to cranky to funny to shitty, and I was there like


Both my babes are sleeping now so I love them sooo much. But before.


Just a reminder that not all things are as they appear in the photos. I still love Mills Beach. I loved our day together. But I think I could have done without the Mr. Bean dramas…

And closure for those keeping score. I realised once we were much happier later on in the afternoon that there is an opening at the back of the tent that can be zipped open, allowing cool air to waft through, keeping it at the same temp as outside. Hear that Hubbie?

And baby girl held her pee in until she got home… and then went normally.

So I actually don’t know what was wrong earlier, or what in fact happened. Much like ALL OF MOTHERHOOD.







#559 Done and Dusted Saturday

People all over the schooling/working world LOVE Saturdays. It is perhaps one of the most celebrated days of the week.

And yet for me, this glass half-full and gratitude gal, I couldn’t wait for it to be over.

And now that it is, I am now, finally grateful.

I worked. It was one of those days. And then stomach cramps and spasms thrown on top of it definitely didn’t help. But for me, my weekend begins sometime tomorrow, and after a good long sleep in, I know I will feel better.

Sometimes we just need to go to bed, and start again. So I am grateful for that. The end today, means a new beginning tomorrow…