#708 Trolley hopping

It wasn’t a ground-breaking or huge a-ha! moment that had me leaning toward the gratitude path today…

But rather, it occurred as it has, many times before, at the grocery store.

It was such a simple realisation. Baby girl was sitting in the carriage part of the trolley as I pushed along, getting bits here, and bits there, to take home. She was making sure I knew the trolley rules: give her the item, before she would then lay it down in the trolley beside her.

And as we headed out of the cereal aisle, in the midst of my pointed shopping list thoughts, I caught a glimpse of her – sitting so casually, with a pleasant smile, looking about her and just generally in a happy demeanour.

And I realised, how much she had grown. How grown up she was this year, compared to last. And how big her life was about to grow. Because her routine was going to step up a decent notch this year, and soon she would be at kinder, more often than she would be in the shopping trolley with me as I shopped for groceries.

And then I felt a little sad. Both our routines were going to change so much, and suddenly it felt like it was all going too quick.

“Baby girl… hey, baby girl?”

She turned to me.

“I love you.”

She gave me a broad smile, and I pushed onwards.

#376 Observation while packing a bag of potatoes…

If anyone can find the above title anywhere on the world wide web, well I’ll… I’ll eat a whole bag of potatoes.

When an older woman, or one that has long-since passed the toddler stage, says that a moment I’m sharing with baby girl, that is oblivious to me, is actually a lovely moment, I take note. I just know, automatically, without doubt, SHE IS RIGHT. I don’t question her one bit. I stopped that, a long time ago.

Today a woman noticed I was having a sweet moment with baby girl.

To me, it was just a normal moment.

I was grocery shopping with baby girl. Often, she likes to help pack the plastic bags with whatever fruit/vegetable we need. We had already put about 8 apples in one bag; now we were on to the potatoes.

I took the bag, holding it open, and passed her a potato of my choice from the high display, to her hand below.

“Here you go.”

She took the potato from my hand and plopped it in the bag.

“Here’s another one.”

Again, she took the potato from my hand, adding this one to the bag.

This continued until we had about 7 potatoes. I lay the bag in the trolley as I tied it up, looking up to see a woman standing by, waiting to access the area I was blocking off.

“Sorry!” I said, moving forward and pushing the trolley onwards.

“That’s ok,” she replied with a smile. “It’s actually quite nice to watch.”

She nodded towards baby girl, and I smiled.

“Thank you, that’s very sweet of you.”

I moved off, feeling proud as punch. What an awesome Mum I was.

She was also there when a moment later baby girl had a hissy fit because I placed her kinder surprise incorrectly in the trolley: it was a millimetre away from the bag of capsicums, instead of being directly aside the bag of capsicums.

Sorry baby girl, I was a whole millimetre off.


So today, a woman noticed I was having a sweet moment with baby girl.

To me, it was just a normal moment.

But from now on, I will never pack potatoes the same way again.

Gratitude in my heart, always ūüôā




#333 Bunnings

I never thought Bunnings could be a place that women could enjoy, until I had a house of my own.

I mean, what did I need to do with nails? Other than paint them?

Electrical appliances were only for the kitchen and bathroom, NOT the garage.

And ladders were only good for when I needed to climb up and get that other pair of pants.

However, over the years I’ve gained a newfound appreciation of the renovation giant, and only until we recently moved did I realise that I’ve really come to enjoy our Bunnings visits.

It may, or may not have to do with the fact that our house needs a massive makeover, and every time I walk into the store, just the vision of how our house could be like gets me all excited. Just saying.

It’s not like I’m any kind of handy-woman. But as I just walk there, like a¬†project manager, pointing to things while Hubbie picks them up and baby girl puts them in her tiny trolley, well it is FUN.

There is so much that you can do to a house, I think even experienced handymen would find it overwhelming at times when venturing into a Bunnings store, what with all the choices on offer. It’s just amazing what you can find. I find myself getting inspiration for future projects while there, and also find myself realising we need to renovate things in our house that I didn’t yet EVEN KNOW we had to renovate.

Because Hubbie ends up with the task of actually doing all the home improvements, I walk around beside him as a kind of cheerleader, urging him on and creating all kinds of wonderful visions for our future home.

“Give me a doorstop!”

“Give me some cement nails!”

“Give me a hose stand!”

“Give me some hallway sensors!”

Meanwhile baby girl careens around dangerously with her little trolley, Bunnings balloon in one hand, only allowing us to put into “her” trolley what she finds acceptable. We end up with tiny objects in her trolley, while Hubbie and I walk around with arms full of stuff.

Today in particular, my cheerleading tune was like this:

“Give me a tent!”

“Give me some lightbulbs!”

“Give me a shower head!”

“Give me a plunger!”

(The plunger is a ‘in case of emergency’ item… don’t ask how the motivation to buy it came about).

And although we buy these items a lot faster than it takes to actually implement and integrate them into our home (those doorstops we bought over a month ago are still in the laundry), the fact of the matter is we feel we are doing something, and eventually, we will get to everything. But hopefully, the plunger is never, EVER used. Ever.





#272 Random $2 kindness at shops

Baby girl was the recipient of¬†a very little, yet very significant act of kindess today. I immediately saw the “pay it forward” in the action and thanked the lady, even though it wasn’t directed at me… but kind of, it was, because I am baby girl’s Mum.

I had just popped a dollar into a trolley while baby girl had run to a nearby shopping centre¬†amusement ride, this one a pirate ship. I knew it would be hard to tear her away – she loves these rides, and being a pirate ship, when it is her current obsession what with her love of Captain Feathersword, it was to be almost impossible. Not only did I have a bit of shopping to do, but I had put my last gold coin into the trolley. As I tried to explain this logic to baby girl (always to no avail but I still try) she just sat there pressing the buttons in front of her, while two women walked to the neighbouring ‘Claw game’ (you know the game where you try to manoeuvre the claw to pick up a stuffed toy or lolly?)

One of the women looked over as I tried to convince baby girl to leave, and then holding out a $2¬†coin, she said “do you mind?”

She popped the coin into the¬†Pirate ride.¬†I was surprised and gave a combination of “really?” and “wow thanks,” before encouraging baby girl to say “ta” too, which she did before eagerly turning back to her ride.

The woman walked off seconds later with her partner who was done with the claw game, saying “enjoy your day!” while I reciprocated and gave many more thanks. I saw what she had done, and she had done it well, the proper way: without hesitation, without expectation of anything in return, and with happiness. Baby girl was temporarily appreciative while on the ride, while my appreciation has lengthened and deepened over the course of the day, with acknowledgment that this is what I used to do on occasion, this is what I NEED to do again, and this is what the world needs more of.

I will definitely pay it forward, in more ways than one. Thank you kind lady ūüôā

#191 That I have a daughter

I know, that many, many months ago, one of my early gratitude blog posts had me grateful to my daughter. I mean, I’m always grateful to her, for a multitude of reasons: her cheeky laugh; her addictive personality; the way she looks up at you through her lashes because she knows she will get away with whatever she has just done; her clever character. I love it all. I love all of her.

But today, this is slightly different. I am grateful that I have a daughter, full stop. A daughter, in and of itself. A daughter that will care for me and look after me when I’m older, a daughter that will worry when I’m not okay, and a daughter that will try and make it all better.

I know that to be true, because already, at the beautiful age of 3, tonight she was tending to me.

For some unknown reason, my back did this weird thing today. I was pushing a trolley at the shops, and my back kind of spasm’d. And continued to throughout the day. I was pushing her in this trolley, actually groaning out loud, saying “what is happening?” It was all so random, and the spasms would actually make me tremor. It has since slightly¬†settled, but still tonight, doing certain things, bending over or leaning a certain way, made that sudden achy sensation come back.

I really needed a break. I told Hubbie to change her into her pjs, something I do every night. She didn’t like this: she wanted Mum to do it, as per usual.

I sat sighing on the couch: “Mama is bo.” We use ‘bo’ as an expression to mean hurt. She looked at me, sussing out my face¬†all wide-eyed, climbed up beside me and planted a big kiss on my face. Then, a huge arm-enveloping hug.


Then later again. She came up to me and hugged and kissed me repeatedly, studying me in the face quite seriously as I assured her I was alright: “Mama just needs a break.”

But, it was priceless. Seeing her care, her concern, her love…. awwww.

Just ‘awww.’

I feel very lucky and blessed (and grateful) to have a daughter like her. I’m grateful I have a daughter. I felt it the first night I held her in my arms, and I still feel it more than ever now.

#166 The scent of a coffee

Pushing a trolley half-filled with groceries alongside an antsy, soon-to-be-climbing-the-sides baby girl, I caught the aroma as I sped past a café. The dizzying heights of addictive caffeine hit me in an instant, inflating my nostrils with the heavenly scent, travelling deep into the depths of passionate refuge.

“At home you’re going to have a nap, while Mummy is going to have a rest,” is what I murmured to baby girl. Only by rest, I actually meant fix myself a well-deserved coffee.

An hour later, as the coffee dripped into my World’s Best Mum mug, I did something I don’t usually do, inspired by the strong scent I had come across earlier.

I leaned into the coffee drip and inhaled deeply as golden brown liquid seeped out.

Do I need to actually spell out that I’m grateful for that? The awakening and uplifting properties of caffeine, its aroma enough to spur anyone into greatness? The smell that reads to you like a book: telling you of its warmth, its depth, its personality, its charisma, yet also its spellbinding and enigmatic persona?

Well I am.



#90 Kind old lady advice

Today I was doing the weekly grocery shop with baby girl in tow. Or should I say ‘in tow,’ most of the time. ‘In tow,’ only eventuates after repeated repeated repeated repeated instruction, pleading, bribes, and threats.

“Baby girl, come and follow Mummy, come on.”

“Baby girl, please come on be a good girl for Mummy, come on.”

“Baby girl, if you sit in the trolley I’ll give you a biscuit.”

“Baby girl! No Thomas train ride for you!”

So, you know, the usual.

I’m trying to get her to follow me into¬†Woolies and to stay close to me, away from the wayside walkers and treacherous trolleys in abundance everywhere. As I’m manoeuvring the trolley and trying my damn best to keep her beside me, she suddenly darts to the right and off to those merry-go-round ride things in shopping centres¬†that all parents despise. Even if you do pop in $2 for a minutes ride, you’ll still spend another 5 minutes at least begging to get them off it after it’s stopped, and if you just pick them up and walk off, you’ll have to contend with endless whinging and screaming and crying. So, it’s a lose-lose situation.

As she runs off to that thing, I notice an older lady behind me also pushing a trolley, who’s now pulled to a stop because I have. I pull over to the side near a chicken shop, saying “sorry!”

As I watch baby girl clamber over the ride from a distance, the lady comes to pass me but stops, and as we’re side by side, she leans in and says “you should never apologise for kids. They’re children.”

I smile as she starts to move on. “I know,” I add, “but some people…”

I don’t have to continue. She shrugs, as if she understands, and adds something about¬† them learning.

We exchange something else, and laugh, and I thank her and go towards baby girl.

That’s some damn good advice. I know that baby girl is learning. I know that she doesn’t mean to be rude when she cuts someone’s path because she’s just seen a Peppa Pig ride. I appreciate this woman’s words, and man I wish there were more understanding people like her. I’m sure there are, but I wish they would speak up more too.

I’m just trying my best to teach this girl of mine manners. I know I’ll be repeating myself endlessly ’til the cows come home… but I hope one day it’ll just ‘click.’

Also, I’m fearful of that stereotype, the ‘don’t give a shit’ Mum. I know I’m not one, but¬†I know how people feel about Mums who let their kids do whatever, wherever and whenever they like. Hell, I know what I think of those Mums. I don’t want anyone to ever mistake me for one of them.

My reasons for pulling her in line are part teaching manners, part avoiding judgment. Which is shit, I know. But it’s how it is.

But that woman today… her words hit the nail on the head. I loved it. Not just her words, but her understanding. She really struck a cord with me. Sage words lady. Sage words.