#495 Shopping with my girl no.4

Today was a day, that could have gone either way.

I had a long moment of frustration this morning. There is an aspect of my life that I’m struggling with, that I’m unable to talk about at the moment – hopefully I’ll be able too, sometime in the future.

I walked into the bathroom about midday, and had to breathe. I didn’t physically cry, but there were tears in my eyes, I had tension all about me, and all I wanted to do was give up. Give up, give in, and let the sorrow wash over me like the crashing waves in the horizon.

But then something happened. A little voice, tiny tiny, made a noise in my head. And it was enough to snap me out of my disillusioned haze to ask “how is your day going to be?”

And in that moment, I decided my sadness was NOT going to rule. It was NOT going to be the defining moment, feeling or event, of the day.

Still, it was a bit of a Let It Go day. Elsa sings it about letting go of her powers that she’s been holding in and hiding from everyone for so long. But I was using the term to not care. To just be. To not think too much, to allow myself to over-indulge, be free, merry and stress-free.

After baby girl and I surprised Hubbie with a little visit at his work, we headed on down to Bayside for some retail therapy. I am mindful that I shouldn’t be purging the account in light of important renos that need to be made to the house soon, but still, a little focused spending was necessary.

I Let It Go when we had Maccas for lunch (I had a chicken salad, but still ‘helped out’ with her Happy Meal)

I Let It Go when she got yet another toy, a doll that she was so happy to hold and hug (wait for it…)

and finally, I Let It Go when we sat down for coffee and a babycino, and instead of just coffee, I also got cake mofos:

Yep, that’s her new doll, Rapunzel. By the way, I forgot to mention that I Let Her Go, and leave the house in costume, Rapunzel-style herself. Because when else in life do you get to leave the house as a princess? I totally would have done Wonder Woman today if it were at all acceptable.

So yes. A bit of food, a bit of drink, a bit of toys, a lot of costume… and IT DID make me feel better.

But that was my attitude too. Deciding ‘we’re going to move on from this. We are.’

And WE did. For now…

#490 Walk around the ‘hood

What was meant to be a little walk to the local park and then back home, ended up in us heading that extra block to see the beach, and then winding around a couple of extra streets, to get just that bit more sunshine.

Winter, so far, has been spectacular. I know, right? In fact, the sunny and still days we have had so often, so far, has put me in a greater state of fear over how horribly the rain and wind will hit when REAL Winter comes along. According to My Climate Guide, we are actually in Win-tumn, which is false pretences Winter, and the REAL mofo Winter that will f$^k us right up, is due to hit in about 5 days.

Sigh. But we won’t worry about that now. Today was absolute bliss, walking around our ‘hood in our trakkies, and discovering the sights, sounds, scents, and seeing all the beauty that is around us… All of this, and the magnificent sun in the background, made me so, soooo grateful, that this is OUR TOWN.

IMAG4521

And with each day, I’m loving it more and MORE. Even in Winter. Can you bloody believe???

#481 The Trampoline

I mean, of course I was going to be grateful we had bought baby girl a trampoline, right?

Right???

Well….. (breaths out) let’s discuss the last week.

Firstly, last Sunday as we finished putting the ‘thing’ up over 3 hours, Hubbie said to me “I never had a trampoline as a kid,” and then proceeded to jump as high as he could in the middle of the mat while baby girl and I bounced around crazily around him.

“I know, right?” I said. “it’s like we’re fulfilling our childhood dreams through her!”

So bloody cool. When you give your kids things you never had as a child, you feel more than proud… you feel fulfilled. Special. You feel like you’ve come full circle, and now that you have a 10 foot trampoline in your backyard, you are somehow complete.

I had also thought, now that her day naps were mostly gone, that the trampoline would give me that little bit of ‘me’ time while baby girl went crazy outside, prepping herself for the most awesomest of awesome sleeps that night. I was like ‘this will be great, I can write again.’

Then on Monday, she was jumping… and wanted me to jump with her.

On Tuesday, I sent her out there on her own, and yet again – she wanted me to jump with her.

Wednesday I started work late, and sure enough, as Hubbie was checking out our gutters around the side of the house that morning, she was pleading with me: “please please!”

Now, I don’t know about you, YOU being any other person out there, or if YOU is a fellow Mum or parent, but I ALWAYS have shit to do around the house. Cleaning, food prep, washing, do this, sort that, we still have boxes here, catch up on writing, grocery shopping, and the list goes on and on and on. I don’t really have time for jumping. I wish that was all I had to worry about – how much bloody jumping I can cram into one day. But I don’t. I start with a rough list, and if I’m lucky I complete it. I don’t usually have time for much more.

Today, AGAIN. Now on all these other occasions I complied, and jumped with her for a little. I told her I was cold, sick, had to go to work, whatever. And all those times I wasn’t lying. But I also told her that she had to jump on her own – we had bought this trampoline for her to jump, not for Mummy to jump!

(Just thinking those words again makes me realise how lonely that thought is. Jumping alone).

I was going to try and sneak in some writing while she watched TV in the other room. And of course as soon as the laptop was fired up, round the corner she came, saying “Mama?”

She wanted to jump. It was after 5, and darkness was falling upon us. She only had a little bit of time left, and quite frankly I was concerned she would rope me into it.

“You can jump, BUT… Mummy is staying inside, alright? I’m not jumping. Just you’re jumping. Mummy is sick, she has a sore throat, she’s cold… ok? You understand me?”

She nodded obediently at me, just as she had every other time before eventually pleading with me to jump with her.

She headed out and I turned back to my laptop, and after a minute or so, she started to intermittently call out.

“Ma! Ma!”

It was more sing-song than anything, so I ignored it. But soon she came to the door again, knocking loudly, and opened it so I could see her.

“Jump?”

“NO!” I had had it UP TO HERE (the sky). I went over to the door and locked it behind her so she couldn’t go back out. “Baby girl you just don’t listen, you can’t always have your way!” I seriously was feeling under the weather, and besides, this girl needed to learn rules! This was not on, we couldn’t cave in every time she wanted something.

I headed back to the laptop with her throwing a tantrum behind me, yelling, and then crying in a pleading tone. As I sat back at the desk, she came from behind, and poked her head forward from the side, trying to get me to look away from the laptop.

I turned to her. These big, brown, pleading eyes, tainted with tears, a hopeful face, parted mouth, wishing and praying that Mum would not be upset, and Mum would come around and jump.

Fuck Me.

How could I say no? I followed her out and strictly told her I would stay seated on the mat while she jumped around me – I wouldn’t jump myself.

(What follows are some highly-skilled and photogenic shots baby girl and I took of each other)

And yet it was pretty fun. She jumped around me, into my lap repeatedly, and I ‘ate her up’ with kisses. We had an absolute ball, and then it turned dark, and it was time to go inside.

So in answer to my question… yes. Yes I am grateful we got her a trampoline… I just don’t know what we’ve created in the process.

A jump-a-holic, stubborn, cheeky and clever girl who will go to any lengths to get what she wants.

We’re in trouble.

 

#401 Wiggles Band-Aids

I should really be grateful for my parents and my sister coming to visit us today. It has been way too long since my parents were over, and I was so excited to show the fam around, and head out by the bay into the still and fresh air, and say “here’s home.”

But no. Instead I am grateful for freaking Wiggles Band-Aids.

Because not even 15 minutes after their arrival, baby girl decided to bolt, Usain style, around the corner of the house, for no other reason other than she is a toddler and running is as normal to her as is refusing bedtime, wanting to eat chocolate, and deciding that Mum must not shop in peace. (For any non-parents that are confused, that means all of the above are NORMAL).

She tripped and fell on the uneven path out the back (one of our 1 billion to-dos on our no-existing to-do list) and scraped both her palms, so much so that skin was now missing. It didn’t look too bad – sure there was blood – but still, knowing that the skin had ripped off, even if ever so slightly, I knew it would be stinging.

And then there was the crying. Sure, she is a dramatic one, but she is also a trooper. She is tougher than some boys, and will normally get up after a fall, dusting herself off. That is how we raised her – ‘no fuss, up you go.’

But she would NOT stop.

I don’t think she was use to the constant stinging pain. Nothing would help, yet eventually after screaming the house down, we tried washing her hands, and also, applying Band-Aids.

She has never to this day, allowed Band-Aids on her. Which has made my life hard at times, because when I want to help cover a wound she’s gotten, she will scream “no!” ’til red in the face, and continue to wail. And cry. And moan. And scream.

While I rip my hair out trying to figure out how to help a girl that doesn’t want help.

But, after the application and removal of 8 Wiggles Band-Aids (this was due to the fact that as soon as they were on, they had to come off), we succeeded. Her last pair went on about midday, and thank God they’re still on. She’s napping with them.

Thank F&^% for themed Band-Aids. I don’t know what I would have done without them today.

#385 Sharing the (food) love

I’m a huge, huge, HUGE lover of carbs. Bread, potatoes, rice, pasta, pastries…

Nom nom nom.

But while I love the food group, it is also in return loving me… in particularly my tummy.

:/

It’s because of this reason, and also the fact that I am aware and listening to my body as it tells me it needs a break, that I’m trying to take special precaution to just, scale it back a bit.

Today I made my Nigella cinnamon plums with French toast. Delicious, but following that brekkie we were all feeling really full. After a coffee out at the Main street, and then trying to squeeze in a quick lunch before my late work shift, I was faced with a conundrum.

When I have bread for breakfast, I avoid it for lunch. When I have cereal for breakfast, I usually then have bread for lunch. One or the other.

Today in haste, I threw together what I could, what I had that wasn’t bread. Whip up some couscous, throw in a can of tuna and voila – lunch done.

However, what I have just learnt via some google discovering, and also what I should have realised via my body screaming ‘no!’ at the couscous thought, is that couscous isn’t actually all that nutritious, and there are far better low-carb options out there.

I mean, my body was telling me so, anyway. Sitting in front of this bowl of couscous and tuna, I felt sooo uninspired. As I began to eat, forcing myself to eat something, anything, yet feeling like this was not making me feel any better, convincing myself that I had to eat something before work began or else I would really feel flat, Hubbie brought his lunch over to the table and sat opposite me. In his bowl, was also tuna… but mixed up in that was a selection of freshly cut lettuce, capsicum, carrots, tomatoes and onion.

What a sight for sore eyes. Those colours lifted me up, and I HAD to have a bite.

But when I did, I was so, so sad.

I wanted his meal. So, so bad.

I told him so. And he laughed. He thought it was hilarious. “Why didn’t you offer to make me that?” I whined. “I can’t eat this, I feel so blah. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

I picked at my couscous and tuna, feeling deflated. I did the only thing I thought to do. The thing I never do – put myself first.

“Can I have yours, please?” I actually pleaded with him. He thought I was joking, but after a few more whines, he put his bowl in front of me, took mine, and then went to the kitchen to spice up my meal, for him.

My mouth came alive with his salad and tuna bowl! It was simple, and yet the refreshing change from the couscous made me feel so much lighter. Hubbie came back with my reinvented bowl now, laughing, and I finished his meal, happily.

It was only while driving to work that I really thought about what had transpired. And I was immediately grateful.

Because true love, has many definitions. Devotion. Honesty. Affection. Happiness. Laughter.

And I added one to the list, which I’m sure has been the realisation of many out there, of true love…

If your partner is willing to share, or even better, GIVE you their meal, well…

No one can deny the presence of the deepest, most affectionate, caring and honest, passionate love there is.

This man must fucking love me. He gave me his tuna salad after all.

😉

#381 ‘Snap the f*&k out of it’

Is what Hubbie said to me as I was having a whine as we were bathing baby girl.

Or something to that effect.

I deserved it though. Whole-heartedly. I was still wretched when he said it, but I know I deserved it.

To sum it up simply, I was upset about my tummy. And a little about my arms. I had started workout sessions a few weeks ago, but because after a particular session I later developed quite concentrated lower back pain, I had to stop.

Then I felt unwell for a few days, and I’ve just been hanging around the house, all woe is me. Feeling sorry for myself.

It’s hard when you notice you don’t look the way you want to look. When your body is different, and you want to change it, and don’t know how, or where to start, and then when you do find the motivation and courage to put yourself out there –

Ow. ‘Ow,’ ‘ouch’ and ‘ooh’ happens.

My tummy is not how I want it to be, and even though I was proactive about fixing it, developing an exercise-related injury made me feel like ‘What!? What do I do now?’

Whinging, moaning.

I know. Like a little bitch.

So he started “I’m just gonna put it in perspective for you here.”

And suddenly, I read his mind. I knew what he was gonna say, and where he was gonna go, and immediately, my negativity sobered up. I let him say it anyway.

He told me how he was feeling flat at work today, getting out of his car, and then he saw a man across the road in an electric wheelchair. That man’s only mode of transport was that chair, and that was the way he was going to spend his life. His only life. In a wheelchair.

But wait, he continued. He wasn’t done sobering me up yet. I listened as he recalled the story someone had told him recently, of an adult woman, who wears a nappy, and basically has her shit cleaned up by a family member, every day.

She is not well, this woman. Which is why she has to wear a nappy. And if it weren’t for her family, looking out for her and tending to her, she wouldn’t even have a clean bum.

Is she ever going to ever have a boyfriend, Hubbie asked?

Will she ever have sex?

Will she ever get married?

Will she ever have kids?

No, no, no, no. No to all counts and so many more. The one life she has been given, is this one. And this is how she has to live, this life. Will she come back in another lifetime as a supermodel? Does it even matter, if the above answers are no? How does it matter, if this life is the way, it is, spent in a nappy?

I then took the move to agree with him, and added that I’d read the startling fact recently that the majority of the world, is poor. So anyone getting by half-decently, like us, had hit the jackpot. Basically, we were incredibly rich compared to many folk doing it tough out in the world.

And I was shitty about my stomach. Post-baby. And my arms.

For fuck’s sake.

I then felt, awfully bad, for feeling the way I had. For being so ungrateful. Because I know this shit! Gratefulness, is my bread and butter. And I had completely forgotten to use any of it, instead wallowing in selfish pity.

So, this story serves two purposes. A grateful thank you to Hubbie for being so blunt and reminding me how lucky I am, for so, so, so many reasons.

And also to serve as a reminder, to anyone else wallowing in self-pity out there, that life isn’t all that bad. It’s actually pretty freaking awesome. You too, should snap out of it.

And he will kick my butt in basketball by the way. He’s promised me that. And my stomach too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#297 Madonna’s Billboard acceptance speech

There is really nothing more I can say than to simply post the above link for everyone to see. If you haven’t heard or watched it already, Madonna says plenty in her Billboard Woman of the Year speech. She says it ALL, with more honesty and poignancy, humour and candour, and sincerity and laughs, than anyone can ever say.

She is, of course, Madonna.

I love her. I think she is ahead of her time, and people just don’t know how to deal with her. They want to put her in their little box, but hold on… she doesn’t fit into this box, or that box, and this box is too triangular…

What do we do then? We abuse her. We intimidate her. We talk down on her. We make fun of her. We make a mockery of her because that is easy, and asking ourselves why she unsettles us and our way of thinking is too difficult to even ponder, so let’s just be dicks.

People are often scared and intimidated, unsure of what to do with people who rebel against the norm, who do not conform with what is ‘given,’ and who speak their mind and express their views about everything, so openly.

She is only doing what many men in entertainment out there were doing. Are doing. And yet it is unacceptable, for her, to do so as well. Not just her. But any woman who openly expresses her mind without fear or shame or inhibition.

Stay shy. Stay timid. Be quiet. Stick to the straight and narrow. Sit on the fence. As a woman, doing that, YOU WILL DO JUST FINE.

Fuck that shit.

You can watch it and see for yourself. But I think the most clear, defining moment for me of this video, the moment that speaks volumes, because maybe it’s the Universe’s silent message to me in watching this, is when Madonna thanks all the naysayers for pushing her beyond what she thought was possible of her. She thanks them with utmost sincerity.

I frankly think that those naysayers should just go and shove one up their arse, to be honest. I mean, if we’re going to be honest here. Just go and give yourself one if you can’t handle it.

But no. Maybe we all take a page from Madonna’s book. Never give up. Stay strong in your beliefs, and your vision. Don’t let them belittle you. Rise about it all.

And then thank the fuckers for making you the brilliant, successful, and amazing person that you are.

Because Bitch, she’s Madonna. And I’m grateful for this icon in the world.

(I do not own the rights to this video).