#575 Girl Power

Women who support, love, promote and encourage one another, are a beautiful, beautiful breed.

And there is no stopping us and what we can achieve, when we have this such network around us.

It’s a horrible thing then, that many women are taught from when they are as young as little girls, that the female race is the enemy. They are their competition, their opponent. They must be better than them, and fight to the death to

get that job.

get that guy.

get that attention.

get that scholarship.

get that money.

and on and on and on it goes.

It’s a sad thing. Because I’ve realised over the years, that there is more than enough

Love

Happiness

Success

Wealth

Jobs

Men

$$$

FOR EVERYONE. It is called abundance, and there are so many out there, men and women alike, who act like they’re at the fish markets and bargaining with the fish monger over who is going to get the last piece of salmon at the best possible price.

But there are tubs and tubs of fresh salmon rolling in behind them.

I decided a long time ago I was only going to surround myself with these beautiful supportive women as much as I possibly could, but MOST importantly I was going to be one of them too – I was going to be supportive and helpful, loving and nurturing, passionate and inspiring, helping them through good times and bad, and just being there, whether it was to help them be the best person they could be, be that sidekick to dance or laugh with them, or be a shoulder to cry on when things got tough.

I am really lucky, that I have such beautiful women like this in my life. And by having them, baby girl is blessed…

Because she has them too. Not only are they my sidekicks, cheerleaders and personal superheroes, but they are automatically and unequivocally, her IDOLS. Leaders. Role Models.

And they are the cream of the crop.

Today I had some of my cousins over, AKA ‘The Sisters.’ And I realised as we chatted, laughed, had some meaningful convo about life and love and choosing the right colour paint for kitchen cupboards, that not only was I lucky, but baby girl was too. She is growing up in a family of strong, courageous, passionate, confident, funny, sassy and smart women, and it brings me such joy that this positive energy has been around her from day dot.

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You know the icing on the cake? We are expecting another little one to the family soon…

Those hands are hiding a baby. A baby girl.

Go Girl Power 🙂

 

 

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#566 Messages from the Coffee cup

I have a LONG history with it.

When I was 10, the day after my sister’s wedding my parents threw a huge, informal backyard party at their place for our closest family and friends. There were a lot of people on that sunny January day, and being the excited kid (and flower girl, thank you very much) that I was, I went ape-shit.

Come the fading hours of sunlight, and my tummy was aching. It was a phase of life where if I jumped or ran about too much after eating, it all came up.

And so it all came up.

While everyone was singing and dancing into the night, the sounds of a folk accordion echoing out to me from the garage, I lay in my room feeling like absolute shit. Not only did I actually feel horrible, but I felt even worse to be missing out on ALL THE FUN.

Oh the agony.

My parents brought me a cup of black coffee. No sugar. The plan?

“Drink it. It’ll make you better, one way or another…”

Yep, it was the other. I threw up some more.

My first taste of real coffee. Coming up.

I grew acquainted with it in another way when I was 13, and on my first overseas trip with my parents. Coming from a fairly superstitious European background (and at that age being absolutely obsessed with what the future would hold) I was delighted to no end to find out that my new most favourite aunty over there, could read coffee cups.

Basically an espresso-sized coffee would be prepared for you, using really fine freshly ground coffee beans, and then it was combined with water and brought to a boiling heat before serving.

This was more pleasant. It had sugar. Sure it was bitter and very strong, but I mean, I had to know if that guy I had just met I was going to EVER SEE AGAIN, so I would have drank a sample of someone else’s saliva if necessary for that information.

My aunty would peer into the base and sides of the coffee cup once it had been turned upside down. You see, the thick syrupy part of the coffee that remained on the bottom once it had all been drank, well that was the bit you worked with. Because you would grab your all-important saucer (they have a use, yes), place it on top of your coffee cup, and then with a swift 180 degree turn flip it over and rest, allowing the thick coffee syrup to gently drip its way down the walls of your inverted coffee cup.

I loved the information I got. It was mostly what I always wanted to hear. Some favourable ‘love’ news. Oooooh! Did it come true? I’m not sure, probably not. But it made me happy, made me believe, and I never stopped asking for coffee readings.

Fast forward to today. I actually drink coffee for enjoyment, not just for the sake of knowing my future. I think it’s better that we don’t know some things… that I’ve learnt the scary way. But tonight while at my parents place, Mum made me, Hubbie and my Dad a coffee, and as I drank it, I just couldn’t help myself…

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Flip!

It’s not that I necessarily know what every sign or symbol means in coffee reading. I try to decipher them based on my own knowledge of dream symbols… I figure they might be the same. You scan the walls and base of the cup once the grounds dry, and try to make out any figures…

I immediately found a person on a motorbike. Leaning forward as if trying to get away. And closely next to it is a sweet dog’s face.

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Can you see what I’m looking at? That cluster of black near the top, that is a person leaning forward in a motorbike. And beside it near the bottom of the bike, are some dots: two perfect eyes, a nose and a mouth, and the nose is even within a darker area, representing the muzzle of the dog. The dog is smiling, which is good.

I looked it up in my parents old-school dream journal (of course they have an old-school dream journal) and I couldn’t find any mention of a motorbike or bike for that matter, but it was noted that a dog was good, and if it was at the base of the cup, it suggested a good friend in your home.

There was also a tiny heart which I was unsure of… look again to the left side of the cup, tilt the photo 90 degrees to the right, and there it is… tiny love heart.

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Also a good sign.

I like good signs.

(Can you see anything else? Let me know!)

Anyway I love it. I love what this little tradition reminds me of. Wonderful events, memorable people, and particularly, one of the best times of my life…

Why wouldn’t I want to keep returning to it?

Yes, it is all a bit of fun, but I do strongly believe that there is some truth to it too…

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See that photo? This was taken a month before I found out I was pregnant with baby girl.

A BIG HEART.

Take that as you will 🙂

#565 The look of adoration no. 2

All it takes is a look.

I had a splendid day out shopping with my girl today. And yes I am grateful that it went well. We got stuff done, ticked things off our list, she was in a fine mood, and she had even more reason to smile, as we exchanged a birthday present duplicate she had received, for yet another toy (as if she doesn’t have enough) so she was pretty pleased about it all.

She was dressed as Wonder Woman too. More reason.

We walked hand in hand through the shopping centre, feeling great. I looked down at her, and like I do so many times throughout the day, every day, I said “I love you sweetheart.”

She simply looked up at me, smiling. It was enough that she acknowledged my devotion to her. I never want her to forget, or not feel the warmth of love we feel for her every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

I looked away, and then noticed her looking up at me again. I looked down, smiling at this brown-eyed girl, all doe-y eyed at me.

And her eyes said it all.

The look of love. We smiled at each other like a Mother and Daughter in a freaking television commercial, but this was better.

Because this IS real.

 

#558 Giving a much needed hug

Today I came through on the promise I made days ago.

Today I travelled across to the other side of town, and attended the funeral of one of my closest friend’s Mum.

I gave her a huge hug, we cried, and I told her we were there for her.

And in amongst this grim day, I had done my bit. I had done what I had wanted to do for so long, and I hope my presence did something for her… not necessarily to lessen her pain – nothing can do that – but to show her that she has people around her who care.

I was grateful I had come through for her.

#557 What she said

Sleep-coma was threatening to win me over at any moment.

I was so tired as I struggled to fight the fog, reading baby girl a book in the dark of her room, against her dim Skye lamp.

But soon it was done. She wanted some face tapping, which I promptly followed with, and then she was going to do it on me, so I closed my eyes and settled in for some random and non-parallel taps from her gentle fingers all over my face.

She ended by kissing me on the forehead, just as I always do for her.

I quickly tucked her in, getting comfortable sitting on the toy box beside her as I did every night, waiting for her to fall asleep. Then –

*lip-smacking sounds!*

She wanted another kiss. I leaned in quickly – do not fight the requests, it only delays everything that much more – and we gave each other kisses. To which she then said,

“Mama best friend.”

Awww.

“You’re my best friend too,” I whispered to her giving her another kiss.

“Yeah best friend, in whole world!”

Awww. I mean, that there. I’m done.

Tick tick tick. I’ll remember that moment, these memories, and this age, forever and ever and ever.

♥♥♥

#551 What he said no.2

“I just want you to know.” He held my hand tightly as I drove, and I looked at him. “If you are ever unhappy with anything I do or say, I want you to talk to me about it. I never want it to get to the stage where you want to leave, but you never spoke to me where I could help…”

It wasn’t the most romantic thing I’ve heard from Hubbie, but tears welled in my eyes. I needed to hear that for some reason, and I didn’t even know why at first.

It followed a really crappy morning. Whinge whinge whinge, moan moan moan, sook and cry and life is crappy. All from ME. I’d been having a crappy week, holidays and all, BIRTHDAY INCLUDED, and I just felt like giving up. It was nothing major, and I was well aware that there were more important things in life to actually worry about…

But I had gotten to the advanced stage where I just wanted to vent about everything, no matter how small or insignificant it was. Trying to start the day afresh, plant a smile on my face, Hope for the best and “make the most of it!” had fallen on Deaf Universe Ears, as day after day I had been disappointed in some way. Enough to really frustrate me.

Even for a glass half-full gal as myself, I had seriously had enough. There is only so much hanging on I can take

hang-in-there-hang-on

before I say FUCK EVERYTHING. Screw it. No asterisks or exclamation marks to hide it either. *!

Of course, as the day wore on, I lightened up. Some things made me happy and not stress so much. But still as we were driving in the late afternoon, and the attention somehow drew to a couple who had since separated, he grew solemn, and gave me the above sweet words.

Why did I appreciate them? It’s because he was realistic… not about the possibility of our relationship not being – no, I don’t even want to entertain that fact. That is an idea so far from my/our reality, that the sky turning a permanent purple, UFOs landing on our roof, or a Money Tree literally growing up out of our yard, all seem more plausible than that very unattractive and sad, sad sad proposition.

He was realistic that life was hard. Relationships were hard. Marriage was hard. He was realistic and understanding that shit happened, issues would come up often, and WHEN they did, he wanted me to talk to him about them. Not necessarily about he and I. But about anything. Knowing he wouldn’t stick his head in the sand, tell me to forget about it, say I was crazy, or dismiss my genuine feelings, made me feel incredibly relieved.

He cared. He cared enough to put me, before us. And that meant that WHEN the shit-pile avalanche started its descent down the hill, he would be there in the middle of it, pushing it up and getting the brunt of it, helping me to run away from it all.

And then I would be waiting for him, with a hose. And water him off. Because we are in this occasional shit-storm of life together. So I said to him

“The same goes for me.”

The real Happily Ever After’s don’t end in the nicely dressed Prince and Princess heading off into the sunset into their white carriage and gold-chauffeured horses.

It’s a guy and a girl in trakkies, covered in poo, walking down the street. One of them has a hose, and they’re holding hands.

That’s real. That’s life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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Photo by Sebastian Pichler on Unsplash

 

#532 An injection of Pink

Pink napkins.

Pink balloons.

Pink flowers.

Pink cookies.

Pink hearts.

PINK PINK PINK.

I took home some Pink today, because I was at a dear one’s Baby Shower.

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I think it’s a beautiful thing when people get together to celebrate the future meeting of a brand new person. This little bub will be a new member of our family, another girl to have fun with, dance with, laugh with, watch grow, and be a huge part of her life.

We need to celebrate like this, much much more. A new job. A new house. A new… anything! We need to call our loved ones over, crack open some bottles, and just celebrate life and appreciate all the beautiful things in it, the things that we are so lucky to have, the things we are ultimately, blessed with beyond words.

Life can be so dark sometimes. We definitely need more Pink.

And this lovely lady with Bub, is my younger cousin, who I consider like a little sister to me. I am so excited for her and this new chapter in her life, and I only just realised a beautiful coincidence tonight…

She and I are 4 years apart. When her bub is born, baby girl and this new baby girl, will be…

4 years apart.

Ahhh. Ain’t history brilliant in its ability to recreate itself?!