#636 Extra music time in the car

Sometimes you need to try really, really hard to find something to be grateful for.

Like today. The sun was AMAY-ZING. The weather was perfect, it was a beautiful Saturday morning… and then I had to pop into my car to drive off to work.

But no! I consoled myself. I would have my music:

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There is nothing better than being alone in your car, blasting YOUR songs as loud as they can possibly go, with this joy becoming even more appreciated, ever since I had baby girl. Me time, me music, me anything, is NOT as abundant as it used to be.

So when it is just me, and my car, you can be assured MY music comes on.

My gratitude went to next-level-difficulty though, when I jumped on the freeway still close to home, and soon after came to an abrupt stop… What? We are doing 100kms/h peeps, why then are we not moving and there is a traffic jam as long as the Nile stretching out in front of me?

I already have an hour-long trip to get to work, as it is. This was then extended by a further 30 minutes, as I c-r-a-w-l-e-d slowly down the freeway. Something had clearly happened. It was an accident, for sure. I saw tow trucks, crane trucks, SES trucks, fire trucks, police cars, and all manner of emergency vehicles drive on by me in the emergency lane, so they could jump to the front of the pack and sort out what had happened to cause such a delay.

Sure, something had happened. Something big. I consoled myself. Sure, I would be late to work. But quite possibly, someone else at the front of the pack was in trouble, seriously injured, or worse.

I kept on listening to my music, thankful that I was stuck in traffic, and here, not there.

But then, as we inched ever so closer to the incident site, every driver of every car taking their sweet-ass time to check out the scene in front of them, I realised, with a heavy sense of betrayal, that NOT ALL WAS WHAT IT SEEMED.

There was a vehicle flat on its side, and with it, a theme park amusement ride/game/something, spread out across the left lane.

A freaking clown was grinning.

So the dude didn’t secure his load? And now we were all going to be late to EVREYWHERE because theme park equipment fell onto the freeway?

Not funny.

I amped up the music, and with it amped up my gratitude game too, saying to myself –

“at least I got to listen to more of my music.”

And that’s how gratitude works my friends. In all of the smallest of ways.

 

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#616 Chaddy shopping day no.4

Today wasn’t just another Chaddy shopping day…

It was the BEST Chaddy shopping day!

:):):)

You know, last Spring/Summer, I think I bought one item of clothing. One. A pair of shoes had already been bought before we moved, but that was it.

One. Single. Item.

You see, not only is it hard buying clothes, or anything personal for yourself when you have a young child, but it all becomes equally harder when you move into a WIP house that suddenly needs not just renovations and fix-me-ups, but ALL the renovations and ALL the fix-me-ups.

Money goes right out the window, door, down the toilet and gets lost in every house crevice imaginable in an ongoing project like that.

So naturally, YOU become last on the list of priorities.

However, in the last couple of weeks, I saw we were going to have some cash left over soon. This coincided with a couple of days of staring into my wardrobe and sighing “I actually have nothing!”

Cue TODAY.

I had the most enormous run of luck while shopping, that even I AM STILL REELING.

I actually felt horribly guilty for Hubbie, who only bought one top. It’s a nice top, but still…

ONE TOP.

I even trumped baby girl, who ALWAYS trumps us. She got a small toy, we got her a small Christmas tree (watch this space!) and some storage baskets for her toys…

I got SO MUCH MORE (tee hee hee!)

5 items of clothing, modelled amateurly by yours truly

(Left to right: Flowy pants, Top, Top)

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(Dress)

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(Jacket)

Oops! Here’s baby girl with her Frozen thongs, the cheeky thing snuck in but I still have more…

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… The piece de resistance.

THE BAG.

It’s the Campomaggi bag I’ve been eyeing off for months, the bag I mentioned casually in this earlier post, and the bag that after online research and video tutorials on how to clean the bag once I own it, I finally went in today and bought it.

The protective bag it came in

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And the bag, front and back itself

My love 🙂

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I am giddy with excitement. I feel brand new. :):):)

 

#597 A well-read break in the afternoon sun

I had many options.

1, I could wash those growing stacks of dishes that had accumulated in the sink throughout the day.

B.  I could write, in any of my writing projects – just pick an avenue: book review, journaling, updating my SmikG page… I would not be bored.

c) I had emails to send, and phone calls to make, regarding our upcoming kitchen reno project.

8: There were also messages to be sent out, to various professionals and also close friends.

Z – I could even dedicate some learning time to baby girl, or break out the sports bra and Zumba away.

But I chose to do NONE of those things.

I looked out at the GLORIOUS day, as Macklemore sings it, and also, baby girl’s new favourite song to sing…

…and I thought, how could I possibly stay inside on a day like today? I had to shirk all my responsibilities and to-dos, and do something else…

I don’t just love coffee. And aside from baby girl, my family, and shopping, and heading outdoors, and looking at sunsets and dancing in the kitchen, there is something else I love, that I don’t get to do as much as I wish to, but it will always and forever remain an intense, deep, reliable, faithful LOVE of mine.

Reading.

I took a new book from the bookshelf that I hadn’t yet opened, and sat outside on our bench, the afternoon sun warming me right up as I turned a couple of dozen pages.

Baby girl found me and brought out a sticker book, sitting on the concrete before me and getting to work.

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Sure, she interrupted my reading every 30 seconds. Sure, at the beginning I got up more than I was sitting down and enjoying the moment, either to help her or get ourselves some sunnies and hats for protection.

Sure, it wasn’t ALL peace and quiet.

But sitting there with my girl at my side, the sparkling water before us, and with Spring putting on a quite stunning show, I felt so relaxed. So at ease. And so ‘me’ again.

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#564 Spa ‘me’ day

I have had the most splurgiest of splurgee splurge sessions today.

I went to the Peninsula Hot Springs.

For anyone that doesn’t know what the Peninsula Hot Springs are, they are a collection of thermal mineral waters that flow into pools and private baths in the Fingal location on the Peninsula, that make it the prime real estate of bathing, and other luxurious treatments such as massages.

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I not only bathed today. But I massaged. AND I ate.

It all started with the voucher I received from Hubbie for my birthday… last year. Yep, I am continuing my wait-’til-the-last-possible-second tradition of fulfilling a gift voucher by waiting until the last day possible to use it. And today I used it before its expiry date of tomorrow, so at least I’m being consistent.

Not due to lack of want, NO. I love the Peninsula Hot Springs. I’ve been there once before many many years ago, and now that we are locals and an approximate 30 minute drive away, I’d love to make this as common a luxurious tradition as humanly (and monetarily) possible.

For me it’s always been about the TIME. Finding time to do something for myself, and making sure baby girl is occupied or there is someone to look after her, and simultaneously trying to find ‘me’ time outside of ‘family’ time, because DON’T GET ME STARTED on Mum guilt…

So today I put Hubbie’s voucher to good use. I followed a lovely lady into a hut within the trees occupying this forest oasis, and had an hour-long Peninsula vine massage…

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Followed by a lunch in the Bath House café, where I sat unapologetically in my white robe, with only a pair of disposable knickers underneath, true story.

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Because nothing says relaxation like not removing your terry white robe to eat a very distinguished lunch menu. Tee hee hee.

And then I had about an hour to spare before kinder pick-up, so I went through the Bath House pools, intimate bathing spaces for those only 16+, and tried out some steaming hot baths, one of which was a mere 40-42 degrees Celsius.

Thin branching leaves and trees enveloped the entire Bath House area, so that it felt like a little private piece of watery heaven.

I had been all on my own, and it had been a day for me. I left feeling clear, fresh, rejuvenated, and seriously, those minerals had really changed me. They had done something to me internally, and I felt lighter for it.

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I felt all brand-new. And that is certainly something to be grateful for.

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#552 The facial

I can easily refer to it as ‘the,’ rather than ‘a’ facial, since the duration between facials has been so long, I almost forgot WHAT IT WAS.

I think I had a series of treatments before I got married, you know, to get my face all ‘getting married ready.’

That was over 8 years ago.

I received a voucher for a beauty salon from my beautiful cousins a year ago for my birthday, and today I was finally able to redeem it, one day before it expired.

Actually, the fact that the salon is not even open tomorrow, means I actually got in at the last day.

There are so many excuses as to why it took me so long to get there, and furthermore, why I don’t do facials anymore: lack of time, attention elsewhere (more ‘important’ things), Motherhood, WIFE-hood, both a.k.a putting myself last, and the worst of it all, the guilt that I should be doing more worthy things, rather than splurging on myself.

All a bunch of bull.

As I lay there in the darkened room, moisturiser getting lathered and massaged into my face and neck and shoulders, I vowed to myself I had to do this more often. I had to put myself first, look after my own body and mind and wellbeing, and then when I did, I would come back to my family all –

Rejuvenated. Fresh. Alive. Ready to take on the world. And with a restored sense of calm.

And isn’t that the best way to be with your family? The best person you can be? I, and YOU, owe it not just to yourself, but to them.

So honestly, I need to get a facial every couple of months, for them. Good point, good point… 😉

#522 Kinder days no. 4

“Hooray!” shouted every single parent that existed, at the beginning of this week as term 3 commenced. “Hooray!”

I was one of them. I love baby girl, yet I also love my ‘me time,’ and was looking forward to spending time on my own-some once again.

It was terribly biting and windy, but THAT DIDN’T STOP ME this morning. I walked up and down the Main street, going into shops here and there and getting bits and pieces, as well as a bit of sticky-nose and research that was required.

Look for keep cup in tea/coffee shop – nope not in that one.

Check out pants for baby girl – not Wintery thick enough.

Check out possible cake at The Cheesecake Shop, for baby girl’s upcoming birthday – TBC…

Buy a tattslotto ticket

Go into party shop, ask about balloon deliveries.

Go into herb shop, and come out with brazil nuts at $50 a kilo (no really, there is a shortage and the Unicorn teeth are in at an impressive $59.95 a kilo!)

Take out $$$

Ask Vinnies if they want toy donations – yes they most definitely do.

Bread, groceries…

And ahh, the best moment in my everywhere-morning… THIS:

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For under $10, I got a sensational chai latte and nutty/seedy bar at a nearby cafe, both of which were delicious and filling, and kept me going for even more of the morning, well up until lunchtime. Again I was at the Corner Counter, where I had my first proper chai latte in Mornington a while ago, and so it made sense that I should go there again.

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The sun was shining brightly as I positioned myself by the window, read the daily paper, indulged in some delightful café fare, and totally catered to myself. Catering to oneself, when oneself is also a ‘Mum,’ is more than an indulgence – its almost a necessity, something that must be done time and time again, to fill up ones reserves. Ones dealing with every life and crap and annoyances and jobs and chores and responsibilities and drama and stressed and everything reserves.

It was bliss, and I look forward to more fill up reserve days 🙂

 

#512 Bullshit stories to feed to your child…

…or as some like to call them, little white lies.

Up until a little earlier, I had no inspirational, sunshine-y, happy-go-lucky or renewed vigour for life post to mention here in this little gratitude blog of mine.

But then, as all the other nights before it, the bedtime routine happened.

And as I stood there, counting slowly, breathing deeply, and making occasional bribes to baby girl that all her toys would be gone in the morning, in between warning her that my angry face was going to turn on soon, something suddenly occurred to me.

Just like the sun rising from the dark horizon to fill the world with light, so too did an incredible thought emerge from my fury, giving me Hope that I could remove myself from this shithole.

A bullshit story.

I’ve mentioned this here before. You know, those stories we as parents tell our kids, to get, I don’t know, anywhere?

To get them to listen.

To get them to comply.

To stop them crying.

To shop them whinging.

To distract them.

Hell, to make life easier.

“We have to leave the beach now, because it closes at lunch time. It actually closes.”

“Yes the park is also closing for lunch, everyone is going home to eat.”

“You can’t leave the house without brushing your teeth. The shop people won’t let you buy a kinder egg if your teeth are yucky.”

“Paw Patrol will wait until you’ve had a nap, and then they will come on TV.”

“You have to wear a jacket on the trampoline (in 11 degree weather). It’s the Rule.”

And we get away with it because we can.

Why do we do it? Well as you can see from the above list, sometimes it’s for their sake – cleanliness or health. Sometimes it’s for convenience.

Sometimes it’s for OUR sanity.

And tonight once again it was the latter. Because for some reason, baby girl’s room was too dark. In amidst stalling with a variety of ways to not sleep, she kept pulling this nifty excuse out of her bag of tricks. And all I wanted to do was rest, and have some kind of ‘me time.’

She has two lamps in her room, albeit battery-operated ones, so perhaps the room was getting dimmer from the gradual battery strength lessening. However when I was getting her to finally lie down, and again she complained too dark, I just ripped out –

“We can’t have too many lights, you know why? The bugs will catch us. The bugs and spiders will find us because there are too many lights. So we can’t have too many lights. Goodnight!”

And you know what I got in return?

“Goodnight!”

Thank Fuck. I love Motherhood, but I also love that she is at an age to still buy these stories…