#593 Stupid time-wasters…

I feel soooo guilty.

I actually don’t have all that much time to spend doing what I wanna do. I am constantly in a state of ‘must-write,’ and yet having a little girl and a part-time job, a fussy (yet so lovable) Hubbie, and constant 24 hour responsibilities OF LIFE, mean I don’t get to write as much as, or when, I’d like to.

I don’t even get to watch the TV shows I love. My Foxtel planner is currently full of 50+ unwatched Bold and the Beautiful eps, and the only reason I get to watch the current season of The Bachelorette is because I practically demand it.

I haven’t even watched any NEW movies, for about 5 years now, let alone an old fave, in soooo long. I am hanging.

Which is why, to do a totally useless thing, a completely time-wasting activity, feels so horrible, and yet at the same time, so so good…

sodapop

Hangs head in shame.

I know. I am sooo late to the party. I think this was huge 5 years ago, and yet for some reason still unknown to me, when I saw the link on my computer as I was adding up sums on my laptop calculator for ‘boring as bat-shit’ bills, I thought “is this a freebie?”

I didn’t expect it to be a full-blown game. I thought it would be ‘meh,’ and not only ‘meh,’ but it would immediately lead me to a section where I would have to go online to pay before I could gain full access to the game.

But it didn’t.

And so for nights now, after doing my obligatory writing projects (gratitude post, personal journal) I have been moving up stages in Candy Crush Soda Saga.

God Help Me. I am up to Stage 17. And even earlier today, as I had 20 minutes or so to wait until my cauliflower soup had simmered to a ready stage, instead of doing something useful online, say, like ANY writing…

I moved up 3 stages. Damn.

I am getting really addicted. I feel bad to be doing something so trivial, so useless, and so inconsequential to the progression of LIFE, but I think at the same time that is what is so appealing about it all …

Because as Women, Wives and Mothers, our lives are full to the brim with responsibility and jobs and routine and drop-offs and lunches and cooking and cleaning and bills and paperwork and work work work work work of ALL KINDS.

So although there are so many things that need constant doing…

Sometimes, not doing anything important at all, feels like the most freeing, and therefore important thing to do.

Yes, this post is about my gratitude to Candy Crush. Yes, I know. I never ever ever EVER thought…

soda pop 2

 

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#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 🙂

 

 

#550 Chaddy shopping day no.3

Today Hubbie and I had the rare luxury of heading to the shops together, without baby girl! I may sound horribly evil at the amusement of leaving her at kinder while we went to do so, but when you are a parent and have lived through the hardships of completing any shopping at all, let alone personal shopping when child/baby is in tow, well then you will understand my delight.

He bought a linen white shirt for beach days.

I bought a couple of tops.

And then I also bought these:

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I was really inspired when I picked up the Rebel Girls book. My first thought was to buy it later on, when baby girl was like 5 or 6 and could actually understand the stories more when I read them to her at bedtime, but then Hubbie was like “buy it now and just keep it!” and of course that was all the ammo I didn’t need to change my mind.

I even read a couple of entries on some of the influential and inspirational women when I got home, those of Jane Austen and the Williams sisters, and they blew ME away. I think this bedtime storybook is suitable for women of ALL AGES, not just young girls (and that’s my thoughts before I’ve even reviewed it!)

And the other book? Well it was timely that a book about things going wrong and not giving a flying f&^k when they do so, would pass before my eyes the day after I posted about birth-days not going to plan. I’m all very ‘think positive’ and ‘look at the brighter side of life,’ yet found freedom and relief in the premise of a book that was telling me to JUST NOT CARE.

I’ll let you know how I go. I’m grateful for it all, nonetheless.

 

#482 My sister’s birthday

There are some days, lo and behold, that I get as excited by as I do my own birthday – and apart from Christmas and Easter, these other days are the birthdays of my immediate family.

I mean, who doesn’t want to celebrate one of the most important people in their life, to commemorate the day they were brought onto this earth, and immediately made all things better with their presence?

The day I was so excited to commemorate today was that of my sister’s birthday.

The day was cold and crisp, but the sun was glorious in its strict denial of taking on any Winter gloom. Perfect for her. The rays shone bright on her special day, just as her vibrant and uplifting presence fills those around her with constant joy and happiness.

There were select family and friends. A medium group, but one that knew each other well. Casual combo, sometimes serious, sometimes light, sometimes banter, most times shit-stirring. Food, plenty of cake, drinks and then the few ‘shots,’ a throwback to all the parties we used to down years before we had kids, when we’d go one, after one, after one, after one…

We’ll get to that stage again, I’m sure. This is my family after all.

And then the night ended happily, as is the norm, with baby girl and sister sharing a ride on the egg chair…

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Weee! they went! Round and round, ’til the movements grew slow, the hand went past midnight, and baby girl’s head leant against her aunty’s, eyes drooping as she still tried to watch her fave Explorer on Netflix.

And it was another great night, to celebrate an amazing woman in my life.

Happy Birthday big sis :*

#378 Work equality and opportunity

On the 8th of March, otherwise known as ‘International Women’s Day,’ it is appropriate that I should be grateful for opportunities where I, as a woman, are treated equal to men.

And despite my MASSIVE rant just earlier, that is exactly what happened today.

I realised with happiness that despite the many factors that many other women can be discriminated against in the workplace, that are relevant to me, such as being a Part-Time working Mum Chick, I am still to this day, included.

I am given training.

I am taught new things, ahead of others.

I am kept in the loop.

My outside-of-work hours needs are met constantly, and I get time off when I require it.

And most importantly, I do not feel undervalued compared to any other employee there, old or new, full-time or part-time, woman or man.

If you have an employer like this, thank your lucky stars. I sure do.

And if you wanna get into some nitty-gritty, my RANT post over at SmikG may be the one for you…

 

#343 Hubbie cooking

You just need a break every once in a while.

It is a requirement. You don’t need a reason. But if you prefer, you can say you need a change. A breather. Someone else to do ‘things’ for a change while you put your feet up and relax. Or catch up on other jobs, let’s be honest here.

Being a woman, is damn hard. Mother, Wife, Daughter, Sister, Friend, Cousin, Colleague… So many people depend of you for a variety of things.

So when Hubbie does the cooking, I don’t even say a word.

No pleases, no thank yous, no “I appreciate that bubs” – NOTHING. I deserve that much. No explanation.

Well, I said a few words, the night before, when I indicated to him that I wanted him to help out this evening: “You should have plenty of time to cook then!”

He pulled one of his classic ‘oops!’ caught out expressions.

What did I do instead? I showered and then set up a new train set with baby girl.

Sometimes, you don’t have to do other things. Sometimes, you don’t even want to do ANYTHING. Sometimes you need to just be. And I’m grateful Hubbie made his longed-for pasta sauce, so I could do just that.

For that, I’m appreciative.

He knows. 😉

#86 My chick doctor

I went to my ‘chick’ doctor today, to get some things clarified, and also hoping for some peace of mind.

Women, you know what I mean. For those of you who have a male GP, most of you will feel it necessary to also have a female doctor, for you know, female things.

Hence the chick doctor.

I was a little unsure/worried about some stuff. So when I asked my chick doctor today, and she said with a blasé expression on her face “I’m really not excited by that,” I can’t tell you how happy I was.

I was grateful for her confidence and assuredness in the situation. But I was also made so much more grateful for the nothingness of it all, when hours later I discovered a former work colleague had been diagnosed with stage 4 cancer a year ago.

In fact, I was pretty fucking devastated.

I don’t like this cancer shit. It’s really scary. Because of the prevalence of it, striking every Tom, Dick and Nancy, I feel like life is one big mine-field, and you just don’t know if the next place you step will be the cancer bomb – it may get your foot, your head, your skin… hey if you step on a nasty one it will fuck you up all over. Some may get out of the minefield alright, if they haven’t stepped on a bad one. Others will not be so lucky.

I had these troubling thoughts going through my mind as I went to my chick doctor today. I don’t know, but since having some heavy stuff happen a few years back, I feel more fearful. I’m still that glass half-full gal, but I’m realistic. I’ve changed. I’m still hopeful, but I’m scared too.

To hear my chick doctor say she wasn’t excited, was music to my ears. I’m grateful to her, not just for today, but for being a great doctor.

I hope she’s right.

As for my friend, she’s doing ok. She’s amazing. I hate to reference gratefulness in the wake of someone else’s pain, but it’s times like this when you can’t help but be thankful for your chick doctor’s lack of excitement.