#1183 My Thank You on Mother’s Day

The day started with baby girl and I in bed.

It ended with baby girl and I in bed.

The beds were different.

And much of the in-between, was frustrating and crap.

Yes. I know it was Mother’s Day.

I have one. I am one. I have the best ones, around me.

But things have just been too hard lately.

Too frustrating. Too sad. I got mad/frustrated/sad umpteen billion times today. I cried about the same amount, and said “you are f&%king kidding me” another 57 times.

There was definitely good in the day. I had really great moments, with my whole family, and tried to pay the most amount of gratitude and appreciation to my own Mum, with all she has done for me and my family in my life…

While still having, this really crappy day.

The morning started off with baby girl coming upstairs to where I was sleeping. Hubbie had already gotten up. I had instructed her clearly yesterday, several times, “do not wake me up early tomorrow, I am sleeping in… it is Mother’s day.”

She came up, and coming over to my side of the bed, tapped my shoulder (I was pretending to still be asleep) and whispered “Mama… I just wanted to wish you a Happy Mother’s Day…” before placing a gentle kiss on my cheek.

She climbed into bed with me, and it was now 8:50am. I told her to sleep. Of course we didn’t sleep.

We found ourselves soon sitting up in bed and chatting. And that was my lovely start to the day. ♥♥

Because this is a gratitude journal, I will just say –

<INSERT CRAPPY PARTS OF THE DAY HERE>

And come back to the end of the day. This time, her bed. We had literally just had an argument within the last half hour. She knew, that I was pissed. I sat on the bed as she snuggled inside the covers, but sat up when she saw my face.

I was just staring at her.

“Mama… what you wanna say?”

I sighed.

“I want to say… that no matter what happened today, Mummy has a very big thing to tell you.”

“What?”

Tears started welling up, and she was probably thinking I was going to lose it for the 1001th time that day.

“I want to thank you soooo much, for making me a Mummy.”

We hugged, and suddenly, she was crying too. She was crying because I was crying. We were both there crying and I was telling her it’s okay, and then Hubbie heard us and wanted to join the party, entering and giving us a big bear hug as we sat there, enveloped in a hug and crying into each other’s arms, but of course he was not crying, he was LAUGHING.

Typical Dad.

And that is it. If only life were as simple as the good moments, right?

But life cannot be simply reduced to just the best and happiest moments of our day.

But as I try again and again here, they can be something we try our best to focus on, the most. ♥♥♥♥

#1171 Lovely in the sun

I found myself a bit overwhelmed by life this morning. So much so that when baby girl had a fairly decent ‘moment,’ that seemingly appeared out of nowhere and had me wiping away her tears in front of her class, before walking away when she was settled and then wiping away my own… well let’s just say that problematic thoughts kind of took over.

I had so much to do, things were upsetting me, I was trying to stay in control… it was too much. I looked out to sea as I drove along the Esplanade, thinking how much I wanted to get out and stare at the water.

“Do it,” a voice whispered.

But I have so much to do… I told myself. And now I’m sad.

Still, I faltered. I pondered my options, as if I were hopping from one foot to the next, and when I got to the familiar clearing amongst trees and saw there were no cars approaching, I spontaneously turned in.

Grabbed my phone and keys. Left my bag in the car. Walked with my not-appropriate for gravel/sand boots over to the table and bench that was free.

Waiting for me.

And I sat, and I stared.

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It was post 9am and sunny in April, so people were taking advantage. They were out and about. I dared not turn as I heard runners crunching on the gravel behind me. To and fro they moved, some silent, some making quiet conversation to their partner, when suddenly…

“Morning!” A voice clearly directed at me startled my Bay-stare, and I turned quickly, compelled to answer immediately.

“Morning!” I replied. He smiled, this short, yet fit 50-something man, charging happily on his lonesome past me. “Lovely in the sun?!”

“Yep it sure is lovely,” I replied. I smiled as he walked off, grateful that someone had snapped me out of my listless watching.

Lovely in the sun… had it been a fact, or a question? A friendly greeting, or a check in to see if I was ok?

Yes it was lovely in the sun… the sun allowed light to bathe us and take us out of darkness, but sometimes that light failed to penetrate deep to our thoughts…

Thank God for words. Thank God for people.

#1137 Something, anything…

What do I write about?

What do I choose to post gratitude about?

Or rather the question should be, what can I post gratitude about?

What good ‘thing’ can I find, in a day where…

I have experienced a long-awaited rejection…

I have felt unnecessary wrath from delusional folk…

I have cried tears I didn’t know were there…

I have discovered my constant emotions, being flat, unwavering and in a state of chronic stress…

I have listened and listened and wondered, when will someone listen to me…

I have become overwhelmed by the complexity of life… it is all too much… there is too much happening… it will never be my turn.

HOW DO I FIND GRATITUDE IN THAT?

Let me at least, try.

I have experienced a long-awaited rejection… failure is the path to success.

I have felt unnecessary wrath from delusional folk… they are delusional and just, let them be mad.

I have cried tears I didn’t know were there… better out than in.

I have discovered my constant emotions, being flat, unwavering and in a state of chronic stress… I am now aware and can act to rectify my physical and emotional state.

I have listened and listened and wondered, when will someone listen to me… I need to make them listen.

I have become overwhelmed by the complexity of life… it is all too much… there is too much happening… it will never be my turn.

Just breathe… it is the end of a long day… don’t over-analyse… tomorrow will be here soon.

Every one gets their turn.

And just like that. Though I’m not completely transformed… I think I just found my somethings…

 

 

#1081 The first day

Oh man. What a day.

Such anticipation.

Such excitement.

Such hesitation.

Such nerves.

Such anxiety.

Such BIG FAT TEARS.

And it was ALL me.

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Why does our mind play tricks on us? Play silly games, and make us want to sob even harder when all I am trying to do is pull a very-watery poker face?

Watching her walk into the classroom with the other students, it asks me “look how she has grown. She used to be sooo small.”

Sob.

Walking away from the school. Regret. “It went too fast… you didn’t get to take a photo with her there.”

Sob.

Drowning my bittersweet sorrows with Hubbie over strong coffee. Our eyes are glistening. I verbalise my thoughts.

“Remember when she was born, and how she entered the world all curious, looking around the room?”

I then looked up to the bright blue sky, and proceeded to –

SOB SOB SOB.

It has been a day of the pendulum swinging one way, and thenveryquickly swinging back again.

And I have to say, with this emotional roller coaster, I am so glad the first day jitters are over.

For both of us.

When we picked her up, she saw us and ran forward excitedly.

And in that moment I realised that my silly fears were unjustified. Sure she would grow. Sure she would learn and develop, change, as every person on this planet continues to as we go through life.

But she will always be our beautiful, caring, happy, loving girl.

She will forever be, our baby girl. ♥♥♥

#1080 The day before prep

I didn’t think I would be too bad. We even bought school shoes this morning and everything, and yet no overwhelming emotion struck me at what the next day held…

I thought, ‘I am going to be ok.’

It didn’t hit me, until I was at the Coles check out.

Baby girl started to squirm and bounce around a little, and before I verbalised the feared signs I knew so well, she told me she needed the loo.

I had just unloaded all our shopping onto the conveyor belt. There was a lady being served in front of me, but she was with her elderly mother who was in a wheelchair, and had groceries of her own she was paying for, and was then divvying up her mother’s groceries, so that it was taking some time for the check out guy to work it all out.

I hesitated. For a moment, I questioned…

‘Should I let her go to the toilets alone?’

It was a mini shopping centre we frequented weekly, if not more often. Baby girl knew where they were. She wouldn’t get lost, surely.

But there were so many people that day. It was packed, being the last day of holidays for so many… Mums and Dads and kids and grannies and grandads, all milling around like chains and locks were going to be wrapped around the shopping centre’s entrance the next day.

I pondered it, for a few moments. I even asked baby girl how she felt about going on her own.

But then I realised, strongly. HELL NO. She was 5. Regardless of that… I could not let her go.

I explained to the check out guy I had to take baby girl to the toilets, and amazingly we were back in time as the two ladies finished up and he started setting up my reusable bags.

But the grocery shopping, or the toilets, wasn’t EVEN the point.

I was suddenly filled with anxiety, dread, fear and paranoia, all at once.

I could not let her go… but I had to.

I saw that the contemplation of letting her go a couple hundred metres on her own, had filled me with such unease, but it was a situation that was completely unavoidable.

Because at one stage or another, I had to let her go. And suddenly, my time was up.

Because tomorrow is the start of prep.

Most of the day has been spent preparing for it. In between ironing on labels to her school clothes, I’ve spent the other moments just staring at her with a frozen smile, willing her face at that time into my memory forever.

Setting up her lunchbox and bag, and then playing with her, letting her drag it out for another minute, then another minute…

Telling her how proud we are of her…

And then bursting into tears the next minute.

Get a grip! I told myself. You are picking her up at 12:30! After the half-days, you will still be together from 3:30!

But I can’t kid myself. It’s not just the time. It’s the beautiful moments shared. The slow wake-ups together, the kisses and cuddles in bed… her asking me what the plans are for the day, and me surprising her with promises of babycino café visits or the beach.

It’s all the little moments. It’s not even anything momentous or eventful. It’s the everyday occurrences, which will be replaced by routine, and order, and responsibility…

And she will be exposed to people, environments, and things that I can not control.

It scares me.

I am excited by what is to come for her, for us… really I am.

But I am so afraid, that the innocence in her that I have loved, and nurtured, and seen thrive… will be lost.

Will she change? Will she be the same?

What will this new life stage bring?

So much happiness has come before us, and I am terrified it will end.

Friendships might change her.

Harsh truths will be learnt.

Tears will be shed.

And I am freaking out about it all.

I don’t even know how this is a gratitude post, other than to say this day before prep, was a beautiful one. Telling each other how much we love one another… and now the tears won’t stop rolling, so I think it’s time I go.

Wish me her luck.

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#1026 Kinder photos from the past year

It’s an early post for me today, but sometimes you know in your heart of hearts, what you will think about for days, weeks, even months later, when you look back at a certain day.

And I know what I will think of when I look back on today.

It was the most beautiful day at baby girl’s kinder for her informal graduation ceremony, and Christmas family day. It was an early one this year, because the kindergarten teacher will be off overseas soon, and so they held the party today.

Never mind I am already having kinder withdrawals with 2 weeks to go. Not only will I miss the place terribly, the innocent culture, the amazing teachers, the kids, the community vibe… but I will miss their greenery.

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After the kids sang some very sweet songs and Christmas songs to the parents, and were presented individually with a group photo congratulating them on their kindergarten participation, we took a couple of graduation hat photos, before heading off home with all her Christmas presents and goodies from the day.

I went through one of the bags at home. She had received book upon book upon book. I instructed her to put them under the Christmas tree, and she promptly did so, as I came upon an envelope…

I peered inside.

There were photos.

As I started to pull them out, I gasped, and burst into tears.

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It was tears of happiness. Tears of gratitude. Giant, sobbing, shoulder-heaving tears. I went through the photos, only half a dozen, but photos that showed my daughter playing at kinder. Interacting with others. Playing with her friends. Mucking about on the slide. Posing in capes.

I tearfully went through each one, pouring over it enthusiastically while trying to gain an inside glimpse of her kindergarten life from the brief snapshots I had.

They were soooo valuable to me… because baby girl rarely tells me what happens at kinder.

She will tell me dribs and drabs. Who she sat next to for lunch. Whether she had a turn on the spiderweb swing or not. How many times she went to the loo. She seems persistent to not tell me much at all, and though I try to find ways to ease the information out of her, and the teachers put up photos of their various activities week in and week out, I still don’t get the feedback I so crave.

Which is why I figuratively clutched the photos to my heart when I saw them.

It was a build up of everything. How far she had come. How far she had grown. Where she had started when she started there last year, to today, standing front row during the  songs and singing loudly “there’s a reindeer on my roof!”

I am so happy today. So proud. Time goes on, and sometimes it goes slow, yet sometimes it goes fast…

And it’s on days like today, these brief glimpses within our lives, where we look back and say “wow. Here we are.”

Here we are. ♥

#1005 Grateful for all the shitty things

When death happens in the day, it’s hard to talk about anything else.

Death. Life. Death and Life, Life and Death. Both things trump pretty much everything else, yet we go on about the bullshit of day to day, the annoyances, grievances and grudges we hold like they actually matter.

They don’t. Like I said – Life and Death trumps all.

I heard of a death today. I didn’t even know the boy. Boy. That in itself speaks volumes. Not only was it a death, but a sudden, cruel and early exit.

But you don’t really need to know the person to feel sad, do you? Death in itself is scary and terrifying enough, but when it comes on so suddenly, and takes away someone that still has years and years and years ahead… it becomes so very heartbreaking.

It seems so very unfair.

There are about a million and one ways that we could die. Quite literally. Study biology and you will start to learn all of the diseases and bodily faults that can lead to our early demise. It is actually terrifying.

An accident, or an unlucky brush with the grim reaper, could be waiting for us at ANY TURN. Apart from hoping to God you stay healthy, you should also hope to God you don’t get hit by a car, a bookcase doesn’t fall on you, a tram runs into you, a flesh-eating bug eats away at your limbs and you eventually rot to death, a champagne cork pops in your direction and hits your temple, and, AND…

All the ways we can die are actually mind-numbingly baffling.

And yet, so many of us are LIVING. Day in, and day out.

We are in a sense, the lucky ones. The ones managing to escape death. That we are still alive today, and have managed to avoid disease and misfortune, and all the various ways in which our life could end, well that is a miracle. A true, unimaginable miracle.

We might be left behind, to cry, grieve, suffer as we experience deep loss, and wonder

“what is the point of it all?”

But still: We are the Lucky ones.

So today, on this day where I can’t think of much else but this fact, these are the things I am grateful for:

I am grateful I swept the floors.

I am grateful I mopped the floors.

I am grateful I changed the bed.

I am grateful I cleaned the toilet.

I am grateful that baby girl gave me attitude after kindergarten.

I am grateful we argued and she stormed off, slamming the door on me.

I am grateful, that harsh words were spoken to me.

I am grateful, that I spoke harsh words.

I am grateful, that I shook my head in disbelief.

I am grateful, that I sobbed.

I am grateful, that my heart broke just a little.

I am grateful for ALL of these things, all of these shitty, annoying, boring and fleeting things… because it means I’m ALIVE.

Because it means, I’m one of the LUCKY ONES.

And if you’re reading this, that means you are too.

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Photo by Sydney Sims on Unsplash