#1084 Bra-less

Ohhh, it’s not what you think.

Rather it was coming home from work… getting changed into lighter clothing (do you know how cold it is at 5:30 in the morning?) and then later going… “hmmm…. I need to go even lighter.”

Put on that dress that is reserved only for home it is that baggy and old… but wait, one more thing.

Rip off the bra.

Ahhh.

It wasn’t just the removal of clothing uninhibiting my skin. It was the words that came out of me. The thoughts, feelings and emotions, fears and stresses, worries and anxieties that sprung forth once the straps were off. Once the back was unclipped. Once the material was peeled off of the skin.

So too did the negativity come undone.

And I felt freer than I ever felt. Just by removing my bra 😉

#1083 Her affectionate nature no.3

I entered the lounge room and lay on the couch. I thought baby girl wouldn’t realise – it was only moments earlier that I saw the mini chocolate bar she had been holding for at least 5 minutes was still only half-eaten. That episode of Paw Patrol must have been particularly enthralling.

But she heard the giving of the couch cushions as I settled into them. Witnessing this uncommon act as I closed my eyes, she crept quietly to me. I peered out one eye cautiously.

“Mama,” she whispered. “I’m just going to put this down a little bit for you.” She reached for the remote.

Awww.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

The volume went down and then I felt her crouch down near me. I opened my eyes again.

She was peering at me attentively, curiously, her brown eyes wide. I thought how if the song we’d heard at the cafe after dropping her off at her first day of primary school, hadn’t been Elvis’ I Can’t Help Falling In Love With You, instead Brown Eyed Girl, how I would have bawled.

She was smiling. “Mama,” she continued in her low tone. “Know I am always here for you, whenever you need me.”

Awww.

“Thank you princess.”

And then she sat on the couch arm beside my head, stroking my head and whispering I love you’s every few minutes.

💗💗💗

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#1074 Pretty little pebbles

Don’t ask me why my ‘before and afters’ of our garden bed had 3 days in between.

Just don’t. It is too early to get into.

IT IS TOO EARLY.

But for now, anyway, here are the lovely pebbles on our garden bed, which is the official ‘after,’ and which have just LIT UP the brick wall behind it…

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I love it, but I’m also so darn impatient for the plants to GROW. Grow damn it! I want to see our new garden bed all brand new and shiny and developed.

But alas. Patience is a virtue, especially to gardeners. I will need to hone that skill, and wait.

Hold on I don’t give myself enough credit. I feel like all I do in life is wait.

So I will wait some more…

 

#1057 What she said no. 12

Heartache can find you in the most unusual of places.

On a sunny day. In a crowded room. In the afternoon.

Within the waning throngs of people in a shopping centre food court.

I sat beside the fountain spurting up water beside me, with baby girl, who had insisted we sit right next to it, watching it fascinated.

Bites of sushi rolls sat before us. A plate of half-eaten rice. She was suddenly staring into my eyes, telling me she liked my eyebrows.

I couldn’t help but smile.

But then she said it again… this time though she touched her eyelashes. I corrected her, and as we sat there silently looking at each other, she leaned forward intently with her wide-eyed gaze, mouth upturned, and I suddenly had to mirror back her face.

“Mama! I can see myself in your eyes!”

The room was well-lit with hopes, dreams, never-giving-up and the post-midday sun that shone through the glass ceiling. I looked into her eyes, and reflective shiny things happily bounced off it.

“And honey, I can see myself in yours.” ♥♥♥♥

#1025 That he also had a tough day

It may seem awfully cruel and mean-spirited for me to be happy, grateful even, that today, Hubbie had a trying day with baby girl.

But you really need to see it in context.

A couple of days ago I was sitting at the dinner table, my head in my hands, telling him how I wanted to rip my hair out!

Baby girl was in a weird way lately. Talking back constantly. Arguing at my every request. Putting up a fight for any little thing possible. It was insane. I didn’t want to let her get away with it, so it meant me constantly telling her what she was saying or doing was wrong or not nice, and this in itself created more of a cycle of stress!

He chuckled to himself while watching me.

“You think this is funny? I’ll ask you on Wednesday if you think it’s so funny. GOOD LUCK.”

It wasn’t a wish. It was a challenge.

Today, Wednesday, I got home from work – LATE. I had had to make a stop on the way home, and leaving so much later meant I was on the Monash freeway later…. and I crawled, I swear, for the entire stretch of freeway. I had left the city at 5:10, and I got home before 7pm.

ARGH.

But I was happy. I was home. The sun was out. I moved towards the front door, and as I turned the corner –

swoosh! a butterfly had been hanging around on our fly screen door, and as I came closer it flew off, almost colliding with my face.

It gave me such a shock, and rattled my nerves so much, that it took me several minutes to calm the fuck down still my beating heart.

Inside, I went to give baby girl a kiss. As I leaned down to kiss her head, she went all baby girl on me, and jumped excitedly…

OUCH! Her head hit my lip, and the pain seared all over.

I stomped upstairs, to find a red bruise on my lips.

Great. Just fucking great.

I was now seriously peeved. I had come home, wanting respite from the mammoth traffic jam that had been my route home, and instead was assaulted by winged insects and young girls. I may as well have stayed at work.

Instead I sat down with Hubbie and baby girl to eat. He had made pan-fried chips with our dinner, as I had requested last night. This made me happy, as when I said it I hadn’t seriously expected him to do it – but he did. We ate in silence, as he was breathing heavily with his own shit weighing upon him, and I had my own reasons as to why I was major cranky-pants – and then there was baby girl in between us, chowing down on her pasta.

Once enough food had gone into us, we started to open up, and talk…

And he began to tell me all the ways in which she had been difficult that day.

Arguing at the park. Falling over. Crying. Having it her way – ALL DAY. Making him buy her stuff. Squirting him with water when they washed the car. Insisting she went out to ride her bike in the maximum heat of the day at 5pm.

He said he had gained 10 grey hairs just that day.

“Ha!” I exclaimed. “And you were laughing at me days ago? Now do you see why I am the way I am???”

He didn’t say a word, instead a small grin coming onto his face. He knew I was right.

“Sorry, but not sorry…. suffer in your jocks.”

And though the most juvenile thing to say, it was actually the most fitting and he took it well… after all, the hose had gone in that direction.

(And then we proceeded through all the nagging talk to still bestow upon baby girl a million kisses by bedtime 🙂 She always wins.)

#1023 Laps of calm

It was one of those days.

Everything was bugging me. I was stressed. Anxious. Biting back easily. Overly emotional.

Just feeling like a pile of shit.

I threatened cancelling baby girl’s swimming lesson several times during the day when she didn’t listen to me… but to be honest, it would have done me as much of a disservice as to her, if I had gone through with it.

That’s because, of the guaranteed peace that comes with her swimming lesson.

It’s all go-go-go up until Monday afternoon. Pick up from kinder… go through her bag… clean up… much-required coffee… more clean up… get her ready for swimming… get in the car…

GO-GO-GO.

And then.

Just like the kids jumping into the water, there is a –

WHOOSH!

of release.

And. Silence.

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I breathe. Sit back against the wall. There is commotion and voices all around me but it becomes white noise as I focus on being still.

Breathe in….. Breathe out.

My hands are collapsed on my lap. Eyes are glassy, reflecting the water in front of me. My pupils dance as the children leap and dive, splash about and swim with arms thrashing all about them.

I breathe in…. and I breathe out.

I stare blankly at the sights before me. The humidity of the room creeps into me, covering every inch of my body, seeping into every garment I am wearing, forcing the tension and stresses of the day to flee away.

I start to smile. When baby girl waves and looks at me in recognition, I nod. Hold a thumbs up. I usually look at my phone at times like this – 1 minute head down, 2 minutes head up. And on it goes, ’til the 30 minutes are up.

Breathe in… breathe out.

But this time I hold the phone, for minutes upon end. I don’t look down. I don’t need to be entertained. I don’t need to think about other things, read about other things, or even laugh about other things.

I need to centre my scattered thoughts.

Breathe.

And suddenly, like a swimming board clapping down against the water, the children are exiting the pool, and just like that my reverie is broken.

My 30 minutes of calm are up.

A dripping, overly-excited, goggle-eyed girl, stands before me, threatening to spill water all over me if I move the wrong way.

Wide-eyed. Wild expressions dance on her face, and I read the future antics in her head in a heartbeat.

My girl is back.

And my work, once again, begins.

 

#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