#723 Sick catch-up

Unfortunately for me, Hubbie did that second coat of polish today.

My cold has since progressed from just that, a ‘cold’ affecting my nose and throat region, to waking post-midnight with chills despite a comfortable overnight low of generally 17 degrees.

Today is the worst I have felt in a very LONG time.

Why me? I asked myself.

Why now? Was the second pressing question.

I didn’t have enough energy to think it through. I slept and lay for most of the day, when I wasn’t holding my head in my hands and taking Panadol.

But an idea did occur to me earlier in the day while baby girl was at kinder, and it made 90 minutes of my day that much more bearable.

You know how you always think of taking a sick day from work, just so you can catch up on stuff? TV shows, movies, reading, anything really that you would rather be doing than work?

I always have something to catch up on… in fact ‘our’ Foxtel Planner is about 99.9% full of my shows, yet to be watched… and one in particular has been sitting there for months now, just calling out my name, but its length felt too long to tackle in one go…

but not when you are SICK.

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I watched the George Michael documentary Freedom, the one he was a key figure in the production and creation of, but that he sadly didn’t get to finish before his death. It was intriguing to revisit those early Wham years and formative solo years, right up through his long Sony court case, the death of his partner Anselmo, and the succeeding album of it all, Older.

I got sucked right in and for a moment, forget I was sick at all… and I guess when you are listening to a life filled with the dreaded fear of Aids and death of friends from it, the issues of coming out to millions of fans (including your own family) and the often tumultuous side effects that can come out of being so famous from so very young an age…

Well I guess it puts it into perspective for you, doesn’t it?

Being sick on a Summer’s day (though so crappy) isn’t the worst there is, out there.

And so for that, and many other things, George, I’m grateful.

 

 

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#658 My Girl

She sensed my mood and melancholy. She followed me up the stairs eagerly.

It wasn’t until we were on the bed, that she saw my face, wet. Her face mirrored mine within moments.

I calmed her down, though I should have been calming myself down. A stray tear rolled down my cheek, and she pointed to it.

“Tear,” she said. “Mama no cry… I get tissue.”

And off she went into the bathroom, only to come back and dab at my face with it.

“Thank you honey.”

“Better?”

“A little bit,” I said with a faint smile, mimicking her common phrase.

She then proceeded to try a variety of tactics in making me ‘better.’

  1. Kissing me 100 times.
  2. Cuddling up close to me.
  3. Being silly to make me laugh.

and then the clincher:

A game started, where I said to her “you’re the best,” and she responded “you’re the best,” and we were going back and forth for ages laughing and cacking up, until I said –

“Hold on. What if we’re both the best?”

But that wouldn’t do. Suddenly her Dad was the best. We roared with laughter.

“Are you stubborn?” I cheekily asked her.

“No!”

What an answer from a stubborn girl.

Only baby girl can turn my frown upside down, my sadness into laughter, and my tears into ones of joy.

She really is the best.

#651 Life through a side mirror

I was shitty.

The day was not going to plan. It was probably self-inflicted. After all, we had been eating carbs at 1am the night before, fell asleep sometime after 3:45am, and then after a late start, the things we had planned for so strategically, just didn’t happen.

Late lunch, no coffee, a headache, and tired. Soooo cranky and tired.

I was sitting in the passenger seat as Hubbie drove, thinking of just how pissed off I was. Baby girl was behind me, her eyelashes and long brown hair whipping about in the 80km winds as her head poked partly through her open window.

Wild child.

And there I was, staring out the window with an annoyed look on my face, until my eyes came to rest on the side view mirror.

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There I was. Seriously pissed off. In that small view I saw some other things though…

My hair looked good. I observed the colour, my blow-waved hair, and made a mental note to tell the hairdresser that we should maybe keep it as is for the next appointment.

The sunnies. My old faves. I still liked them after all these years

I had pink nails. I barely get time to paint my nails, and then when I do, I consider it the greatest luxury in the world – like, if you have time to stop and paint all 10 of your fingernails, and then you have the ADDED time to wait for them to dry… you clearly are not that busy. That is my take on nails. Which is why I am so bloody pleased when they are painted a bright colour. I am sooo winning at life when that happens.

There was my engagement ring, still shining and sparkling bright. I love that ring. I love it today and with the same zest, if not more, as when it was first placed on my finger 9 years ago by my love.

And I also had on a fave summery dress of mine, the kind of dress you love so much that if it were available in 3 other colours, you would buy them ALL.

And then suddenly I realised, I was kind of pleased. Distractedly pleased. Because what I saw I was happy with. It was all material things that made me happy, but it was the recognition that I was who I had wanted to be, say, 5-10 years ago. And although it was purely materialistic, it was enough to steer my mind to something other than being a full cranky-pants for the entire day.

But then, the clincher. There baby girl was, behind me, her face out the window, smiling as she looked at me into the side view mirror.

And that was the best thing I saw in the mirror.

All of a sudden, I wasn’t so angry. I was supremely grateful.

Grateful in seeing my life differently, yet so clearly, through a side mirror.

#608 1 year on the beach

Today marked exactly one year since we moved across town to live a different life.

A more caffeinated life:

A more explorative life:

A more beach-y life:

And definitely, a more sunset-y one:

It has been an amazing year, and here’s hoping it only gets better.

It started out as a dream, progressed into a waking nightmare as we dealt with moving, unpacking, and adjusting to life in a older house, with things going wrong, no time for ourselves, and endless renovations/to-dos/life changes.

Once that spell was over (and boy was it a LONG one) things went on the improve, bit by bit.

A year later, we can never, EVER look back. We knew, even in those most difficult of days, trying of times and curse-filled moments, that we had made the best decision for US.

And aside from all of the above pros of moving, the other major one has been the closer proximity to most of our family.

So today baby girl was that touch closer in distance to her third cousin, to attend her 4th birthday:

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(Yes they are wearing the same skirt, it was totally not intended yet so cool when we realised they were twinsies. I CAN’T EVEN).

And then later we made an impromptu visit to my sister’s place , something we never used to do, but a favourite new past-time that is becoming more and more common, from both sides.

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(Baby girl and her Aunty making coffees 😉 )

And suddenly, there are so many beautiful reasons to be happy today. Happy for our move. Happy for this 1st Anniversary. Happy for Life.

Cheers 🙂

#571 First Kinder photos

I can’t begin to tell you how much it made mine and Hubbie’s day, to receive baby girl’s kinder photos today.

“Be strong,” the teacher had told me this morning as I perused the photos of my darling girl with adoration. “You don’t have to buy them all.”

Lady. I bought them ALL in my imagination before I even heard about photo day.

What made it all the more sweeter, was the knowledge that I had almost taken her home that photo day, since at the time she was going through a difficult period at kinder drop-off: not wanting to enter the class, not wanting to play with anyone/anything, and truly dreading the part where I would walk off and leave her.

The photos seriously nearly didn’t happen. She was not into photo-taking that day, AT ALL.

But then, a miracle. Or her teacher. Same same. But we both convinced her, slowly but surely, to go into the classroom and stick some string on a piece of cardboard (this was apparently novel stuff).

And then, bit by bit, she got more relaxed, until the point where she was going up to the photographer and photo bombing other’s photos.

That’s my girl.

It’s reminded us a lot of our own kinder photos, taking us back to that youthful, innocent, sweet and darling time of our lives.

And we are just stoked, to now have another album to add to the collection. What makes it even better???

She was smiling happily IN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM.

I almost can’t stand the cuteness. It is too much.

Thank God I didn’t give up and go home that day.

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Gratitude in every way.

#569 My nurse

Not only do I have a cheerleader.

Not only do I have a monkey.

Not only do I have a princess.

Not only do I have a clever cookie.

Not only do I have a mini me.

But I also have a Nurse.

I was very worse for wear, emotionally speaking, today. I had a good cry, and baby girl saw me in this state. I waver between wanting her to see me in all my facets and understand that adults get upset too, but I also worry about stressing her out and placing undue worries on her sweet head, and so I try to hide it from her at times too.

She saw me covering my face and wiping away my tears.

She wanted to make me happy. She rubbed my back. She pulled me over to her toys and got me down to play with her.

My mind was weighing on me too much. I went to lie on the couch.

Soon she found me. She got a lip balm she has recently discovered, and promptly applied it to my lips.

Then she took her flowery-framed toddler sunglasses, and put them on my face, to make me, in her sweet words, “more happy.”

Next she took the throw draped over the couch, and covered me in it. By this stage I was feeling better with all of this attention, and was starting to lap up her dedication to the cause.

She then lay down next to me under the throw, and we cuddled there on the couch, while the wild weather that has been shocking Spring, unleashed through the windows outside.

She sat up, a thoughtful look on her face. I was about to launch into a gentle spiel of how big people can also get upset sometimes, just like little people, but decided to ask her a question first.

“What are you thinking baby girl?”

A pause.

“A toy.”

I actually burst out laughing. Here I was thinking she would be scarred from seeing her Mum so upset, and instead she was thinking of a God-damn toy.

I laughed, and she laughed with me, mimicking my airy/breathless/cackly laugh.

We went to the shops soon after.

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This girl, wearing a Unicorn skirt on top of her trakkies, a Unicorn headband, sunglasses as if it were 30 degrees out (it was like, 3) and her Olaf band-aid on her forehead from where she had busted her head nicely days earlier from bashing it against a glass coffee table, got her God-damn toy.

She totally deserved it. She had literally saved me. If it weren’t for her, I would have been in that funk for a long, long, long, sad time.

She can have all the toys in the world. My nurse.

 

#568 Monday sleep-in

I love Monday sleep-ins. I love them more when the wind is howling outside and rain is splattering against the window. I also love them when I know I am somewhat happily past the waking-at-random-hours stage with baby girl, in the calm knowledge that most of the time, she sleeps ’til the same time that I do.

It’s these little things that keep my head up in the face of adversity, challenges, and other things that turn my smile, upside down. All things that have happened today.

And you just need to breathe…

and try to keep on, keeping on.