Poor woe is me

It's late afternoon. The sun is well and truly on her descent for the day. I'm sitting on a chair in the garden trying to soak the last of her diminishing rays. The gentle breeze blowing by does not aid in my quest.

My eyes are red and burning. The residual sting of earlier tears lingering longer than I care for.

One dear customer left me with this today

I cried at work today.

On the checkouts.

While serving customers.

It took nearly four customers till I could pull myself together. I wasn't a complete blubbering mess but I know there was pain in my eyes that they could not help but to see.

My mind was doing the cruelest of things to me. It was so mean and hurtful, yet I know that in a bizarre twisted way it was meant with kindness and love.

Not that, that really makes it ok.

As much as I always hope for the best, I often prepare for the worst. A kind of safety net I guess. That's what was happening today.

I'm waiting to hear the outcome of a job interview from last week. It's still with the same company, just a different position and most definitely a promotion. I hate hearing myself say it, but if I'm brutally honest there is a part of me that thinks I deserve this. Actually brutal honesty is to admit that I think I should have just been offered the position.

So you see my quandary?

To not be given this will be devastating. I have worked hard and I know I am the right person for the job. To be told I'm not will be akin to being told I am useless. It's like I'm already mourning because my stupid head got sick of waiting for the outcome to be revealed. On the upside though at least I now feel like I might be able to cope with the direst of outcomes. Nothing could be worse than what I have put myself through today.

A tantrum of epic proportions

Really I should be all kinds of pleased with myself after today’s efforts. I ran 5km to return an overdue DVD and then turned around and moved myself back home. I didn’t actually run as much on the way home but I didn’t catch a taxi either. It also marked the third day in a row of me getting out and moving. So really all kinds of things to celebrate.

But I am not. 

Instead I am here moaning and carrying on. 

Much like Teapot did earlier today when I insisted she have a piece of fruit before cabana. Or Zany did yesterday when it was discovered I had not gotten a DVD for them like I had said I would the day before. Monumental tantrums they were. Monumental I tell you. Much like how I feel like carrying on right now.

Yesterday Mr Awesome took the car to the mechanics. There has been a rather dreadful sound as we change gears of late. A really grating grinding kind of sound that hurts your ears and makes you shudder. From the inspection yesterday it was determined that it could maybe have been one of two things. One was really cheap and the other was ridiculously expensive. 

Naturally it turned out that it was both options.

insert a wide range of swear words with lots of the f word thrown in for good measure.

We won’t get an exact price until we pick the car up tomorrow. A ball park figure though is around the $3000-4000 mark.

insert more unfavourable language I prefer not to use on the blog.

Deep breath.

And again.

To make things even more frustrating there is a chance that Mr Awesome could get some work here. Only when we made enquiries at the van park as to how much their weekly rate was we were told it was nearly double what we are currently being charged.

Yep I kid you not.

At the moment we are paying $156 for four nights, which works out to be $39 a night. Which quite frankly is a bargain. So far we have paid for 8 nights totalling $312. When I asked today what a weekly rater would be I was told it would be $415 for a week. Which works out to be $59.29 a night.

For FFS!

Cue another swear word filled rant.

Lots more deep breaths.

At it again. Grumbling that is.

This poor post has sat blank all day waiting for me to find the right words to fill it with. Even now I am not sure of what they are.

Essentially I am fighting the urge to complain.

Again.

It almost feels like every time I come here lately it is to complain in some shape or form. I never like to think of myself as a complainer. In fact the complete opposite. I generally like to take pride in my ability to find the silver lining, even on the darkest of cloudy days.

I crazily expected #ouradventureofalifetime to be nothing but rainbows and sunshine.

As if the moment we drove out of town we magically metamorphosed into a travelling kind of Brady bunch if you will. And while there is certainly no denying that there have been some incredibly spectacular moments where things have exceeded my expectations, there have also been a few quite surprising crapola moments as well.

We are currently back in Broome for a few days after having spent a wonderful week out of range on the Dampier Peninsular. It feels somewhat strange being around people again. A week of not interacting with anyone outside your immediate family will do that to you I guess.

The difference in the girls being around people is what gets me the most.

When there is not another soul to be seen or distraction to be had they are as nice as pie to one another. Sure there is the odd squabble here and there but on the whole they are full of understanding and patience for each other.

Introduce some people and electricity and suddenly it is like they are vying for the title of Queen of Bickering and Nastiness.

It seriously does my head in and makes me want to scream obscenities. Clearly mother of the year I am not.

As if that is not bad enough Mr Awesome has even less patience than I do for such behaviour and is constantly grumping and growling as well.

Sigh, sigh, sigh and double sigh.

I promise though when next we meet I will have a much happier tale to tell

The Domes and Cathedral Gorge

Some of the dome rocks

After a wonderful day yesterday exploring Echidna Chasm today we planned to head to the other side of Purnululu National Park and check out Cathedral Gorge, Picanniny Creek and The Domes. 
I quite liked the idea of exploring Picanniny Gorge because the word picanniny reminds me of my dear old dad. After such a great day yesterday it seemed only natural that today would be as equally wonderful.

Of course what seems like being only natural and what actually occurs can often be to vastly different things. 

As was the case today.

Now before I goo too much further I must point out that as I type it is now the some twenty days after the event, so my recollection of events are a little faded. I do remember when we left camp in the morning I was what some might call a little grumpy. Others, might call it easily irritated or in a bad mood. 

More Domes

The morning had been one of constant bickering between everyone and I had just had enough. I was sick and tired of playing peace keeper for everyone and I was over listening to the ridiculous complaints that I was being bombarded with.

You know the ones, she looked at me the wrong way, the wind blew a leaf in my direction, I don’t want to drink my cereal milk, I don’t even want milk on my cereal. Blah, blah, blah.

Despite being determined not to let it get to me eventually it did.

Looking in to the back of the cathedral

The straw that broke the camel’s back, or rather snapped the mother’s mood, was when Lovely threw a little ball of sand in my direction. It crumbled near my shoulder and it subsequently led my own pathetic crumbling. 

I completely overreacted and blew my top. I then preceded to storm off towards the car, which naturally was quite a distance away. The tour group got an unexpected extra show that day.

After about fifteen minutes the two bigger girls had managed to catch up to me. It turns out that storming off over a rocky path through a gorge does not exactly make for a quick getaway.

Being the mature and sensible mother that I am, I continued to ignore their presence for a little longer. Though in my defence I was certain if I broke my silence I would have said words so unkind I would only have exasperated the situation only further.

At the back of the cathedral looking out

The silent treatment worked a treat though because the girls well and truly got the message that I had had more than enough. The rest of the day they managed to be as nice as pie to each other.

Interestingly enough it was about this time that I stopped regularly writing about our days. After some rather intense self loathing about it all though I have managed to come to terms with the fact that not every day will be a paradise. As much as we may be on holidays we are also still living our lives and kids will be kids.

Just like mum’s will be mum’s and occasionally lose the plot. Even when they are on an adventure of a lifetime.

I know I shouldn't really complain...

But I really, really want to.

And what's worse I am not even sure I know exactly what it is I want to complain about. I just feel this ridiculous urge to complain. Talks about taking first world problems to the extreme.

When I started this post this morning, some twelve hours ago I might add, I think I was going to complain about my desire for a decent cup of coffee. It is the one thing about #ouradventureofalifetime that I am not loving. Crap coffee.

What my coffee once looked like

To start with it wasn't too bad or noticeable. Possibly because the excitement of the trip actually happening swept me away and I failed to notice I was suddenly sipping on an instant blend rather than my usual frothy capsule goodness. The fact that my coffee has been made by Mr Awesome and patiently waiting for me to arise each and every morning may also have had something to do with.

Seriously having your coffee presented to you as you step out of bed is all kinds of amazing awesome.

This morning however Mr A was not up to his normal quick kettle boiling. Behold the horror as for the first time in nearly a month I faced the prospect of preparing my own hot morning beverage!

Today had been deemed a slow day. One that was so slow there was no rush to get out of bed. Rather than join the birds in watching the sunrise we were allowed to linger under the covers till nearly quarter to eight. Yes that's right I currently live in a world where sleeping in means still being in bed at seven o'clock.

As lovely as it was not being coerced out of bed I was most certainly not a fan of having to put the kettle on myself. Apparently Mr Awesome felt a little under the weather. Now please excuse my lack of sympathy because his little under the weather feeling was completely self induced and involved three ciders and two glasses of red.

All of this tragedy was only amplified when it suddenly occurred to me the reason why my coffee tasted a little off yesterday was because it was Nescafe.

Oh the horror.

I had handled the whole instant coffee thing up until now because it was Robert Timms and he does not do a bad brew. Not a great brew mind you but not bad either.

Sadly we were running low and the middle of nowhere shop that we went to didn't have a lot on offer. In fact it was pretty much a case of Nescafe or International Roast. Yep. Fun times right there.

Picking the lesser of the two evils, or rather the one that did not remind me of my dead father, I went with Nescafe. Apparently it is a choice I may well live to regret for quite a few cups of coffee.

Starting the goodbyes

With our departure date looming ever closer the first of our goodbyes have begun. Which makes #ouradventureofalifetime suddenly feel rather real and just a little bit scary and overwhelming.

It has been a little over two years since we first started thinking about the possibility of just packing up and taking off. Initially it just felt like a pipe dream to encourage Mr Awesome to stay in a job that he was beginning to no longer love.

At that point he had been with the company for nearly eight years which meant the possibility of long service leave was rather attainable. Having just missed out on it with his previous employer Mr A was adamant he could stick around for a paid holiday this time. After all what was two years when you had all ready been there for eight?

Too say it has been a tough two years at times would be an understatement.

Watching the man you love get up before the sun and traipse off to do something that pretty much drove him to distraction only to return not long before the sun went down is not an easy thing to do. Though I guess it was slightly easier than being the one that had to actually work those long hours.

As of today Mr Awesome only has two weeks left at work. Two weeks!!!

Which means another two weeks after that we are well and truly meant to be on our way.

All of this came to light for me yesterday when I caught up with my brother. He lives interstate but flies in for work. Sitting down with him and working out when he would be in town next made we realised that it would probably be after we had left. And by that I mean the day after we hope to have left by is the day he flies in.

Which meant we had to say goodbye to him yesterday like we won't see him for nearly twelve months. Which was a little bit sad and exciting all rolled into one. And also for me, completely unexpected.

I had expected the first of the goodbye's to be today at Zany's school. Given it was the last day of term and all. We all know about plans and expectations...

At around 1.30 this morning Zany woke me up to ask for a sick bucket. She then asked me to empty it pretty much every half hour till the sun got up. Poor little thing, my heart felt like breaking for her. Yay for sick buckets and children that use them though.

Needless to say there was no school goodbyes for Zany today.

Just quietly though there is a part of me that feels that may not have been such a bad thing though. At recess I dropped a little gift and card off to the teacher to say thanks for all her work so far this year. Only I couldn't really get the words out as I was choking back on tears.

Like seriously. I can not believe what a cry baby I can be some days.

Sure she is a super lovely teacher and I really like her a lot, but I have barely spoken two words to her all year so why get teary now?

It does feel a bit strange though to have been at the school and part of the community for over 8 years and to be leaving without any sort of goodbye from anyone.

Sniffle, sniffle

With a rather large bowl of left over icing sitting in the fridge and plenty of skittles, m&m's and jaffas to use as decorations, I should probably be making cupcakes or something similar. Especially given it is a certain young lady's eighth birthday and all.

my rather awesome reproduction
of Zappo the Alien.

Since I have a head cold from hell and have just finished decorating a cake for after dinner tonight I will let myself off the hook. Still seems such a waste though...hopefully tomorrow will see me with slightly more enthusiasm.

Part of me feels like I have been fighting off this silly cold for nearly three weeks now. I refused to give into it earlier because of the City 2 Surf. After that it kinda felt like it disappeared but last night it came back with a vengeance and today there has been no chance of ignoring it even just a little. My nose has alternated between being blocked and dripping like a broken tap. Neither of which is all that exciting or appealing.

Normally I would weather the storm and not worry with cold and flu tablets. Given the whole birthday thing though, and the fact I have to work tomorrow night I thought that maybe I should give them a whirl. After about twenty minutes I began to feel marginally better and within the hour there was a marked improvement. Sadly it was all short lived. Here's to the second dose lasting longer.

Anyway enough of my whinging. The show must go on. And more to the point I must now get up and go to said dinner so we can eat Zappo.

Excuse me while I wallow just a little. Or a lot.

As I sat waiting to see McDreamy the other day I decided to use my time wisely and start writing my #IBOT post for Tuesday. Even though I am having trouble fitting in adequate commenting I just can't fight the desire to join on in. I had made an agreement with myself earlier in the day to do so as long as I read an article or two for my current assignment.

Given that it is already over due (though I have kindly been granted an extension) I really need to just knuckle and down and do it. With hindsight I am wondering if returning to study right now really was one of my wisest moves. Live and learn I guess.

Truth be told I have been using a lot of hindsight of late to assess my decisions and just quietly it is not looking so great for most of them. Mind you it could also have something to do with the fact I am just beating particularly hard on myself today.

You see the post that I wrote at the doctor's didn't save. Well I guess a more accurate description is that I failed to save because failure is one of the few things I am good at doing at the moment.

Yesterday I ran my second City2Surf, just over 12km in distance. Though when I say run maybe a more apt description would be shuffle. I went a whole second slower than last year. A full twelve months longer at being a runner and I go a second slower.

It is hard for me not to call myself a loser.

I know that the scheme of things a whole second is not really here nor there. I should just be stoked for even making to the end. And I guess in some ways I am. But when it seems like everyone else is going faster and smashing through their PB's it is hard to be pleased with just finishing.

Mr Awesome snapped this as. Bless him.
This was at about the 9.5km mark.
I used every ounce of my being to make an effort to not look buggered as
I ran by them. 

I should have done better.

I could have done better if I had of trained a little more. Or at all really.

I should have trained more but it was easier to make weak excuses.

I work most afternoons and nights. I like to run of an evening. Getting up early in the morning is just too hard. Teapot doesn't ride her bike well enough and we no longer have a pram for her so running after school drop off is no longer an option either. Not to mention it is probably to hot then anyway.

Blah, blah, blah.

Eating a packet of chips most nights that I work probably hasn't helped much either. Nor the bottles of coke I drink to help me stay awake. But what is a bored girl to do?

Cue deep sighs and even more deep breaths and the hope that I don't hyperventilate.

Just between you and me right now I feel like I am floundering. Actually I feel completely overwhelmed and have just passed the point of drowning. If you and I were having this conversation in person, all of that would have been said with a f-bomb thrown in at least five times.

Only we aren't having this conversation in person because I am a person free zone at the moment and feel completely abandoned and alone.

Cue tears and more hyperventilation.

All of which I know to be ridiculous because there will probably be at least three people reading this who will wonder why I didn't call them or message them or something them. Till they remember that I am not really a calling or messaging type of person. I am a talk to you face to face type of person, or pour it all out here. Sadly there are no people near me any more to talk to in person.

Oh and while I am being a crybaby have I mentioned that based on some of Lovely's behaviours of late I am a relatively shit parent as well. She has lost all interest in school and following any direction I request of her just seems to go against her inner being. The joys of having a teenager.

Mind you apparently Zany's school work is leaving something to be desired as well. Given that when I picked her up today her teacher requested I make an appointment to see her to discuss her report. Joy of joys right there. I am relatively certain she is just trying to ease the pain of the report containing D's.

I know this because another parent from the class recently had to have the same discussion. I shall however save my thoughts on the grading system of the curriculum for another day. It is safe to say it is a conversation that involves quite a lot of swearing on my part.

For now though I am sure I have carried on more than enough. I must have done because I feel slightly more human and able to cope.

So please excuse me while I pick my bedraggled and sorry for myself ass up off the floor and quickly slap together something for the troops to have for dinner while I traipse off to work yet again.

For some other great posts though make sure you check out all the IBOT fun over at Essentially Jess

A blogging conundrum

Given my looming assignment deadline, working most nights and the expectation people have of a clean house and food regularly put on the table, not to mention clean clothes and what have you, I wasn't expecting to actually sit down and write a post for IBOT this week. Only when I came home from work and discovered two children not sleeping like they were supposed to be, blogging seemed like the only sensible way to deal with the situation so here I am.

The alternative was to give into their demands or rather hopes and snuggle up next to them and drift off to the land of nod with them. Which while sounds rather pleasant and appealing it is not nearly as wonderful as actually drifting in the comfort of my own bed.

Thanks to the joys of being a laptop owner I was able to sit on the end of the bed while they drifted off to sleep and try and tap out a few words of wisdom to share with you all. Naturally though those words failed me and I found myself heading towards Candy Crush in a bit to pass whatever elusive level I am currently stuck on.

By the time all children were finally sleeping though I had become so attached to the idea of actually blogging I just had to sit and give it another go.

Which is where I am now.

Desperately wanting to try and say something but not entirely sure of what that something is.

Due to my overwhelming feeling of commitments and a serious lack of hours in a day I have not been pulling my weight in terms of being a good blogger. And by being a good blogger I mean sharing all the comment love that makes blogging the awesome past time that it is.

In fact I am yet to even leave a comment on the wonderful thankers who joined in Thankful Thursday last week. Which makes me all kinds of sad. (I promise I will get there very soon ladies, I have read them all just not left a note to say so.)

All of this has left me wondering if I really should be spending this time right now writing away. Aside from all the other things I should be doing in real life there feels like a gazillion things I should be doing in the blogosphere as well before I let myself have the privilege of writing a post. If I don't have the time to read and comment do I really have the right to write?

But the thing is...

...there is a part of me that just has to drop everything and write.

It is almost as if the only way my brain is able to take stock of all that is before me, is if I stop and ramble on a bit here first. It is like a downloading of clarity if you will.

As a wise woman and friend pointed out to me I always have the right to write, we all do. However it is the right to link up and join in the community that is questionable.

Actually she never said the last bit but I felt it was implied and feel it to be quite true as well.

But the other thing is...

...as much as I need to just write I also need to feel that at least a few people have read whatever I have written and without linking up and joining a community that often never happens.

Oh the conundrums of being a blogger.

Ironically in a bid to seek some answers I am joining in with Jess for #IBOT.

So tell me how you feel about reading, writing and joining in with links

Living in the moment, planning for the future

Before too long this will be
my constant view

Lately these words seem to be constantly floating around my pretty little head. Living for the moment, planning for the future. I can't help but wonder if it is possible to do both. To me they just don't seem to go together.

There is no denying that I am very much a live for the moment kind of girl. I always have been. And for the most part it has served me well. Sure there have been occasions when I wished I stopped and thought about the consequences of the moment a little more while I was living it but on the whole it has served me well.

But what happens when the moment you are living in is not really as great as what you like but you can't do anything about it because it is all part of the plan for the future?

As a regular reader you would have probably heard about my impending #adventureofalifetime. Due to said trip I have returned to regular paid employment for the first time in over eight years.

I have always known that I was blessed to not have to work, until I went back to work though I just never really understood how blessed I was.

While I really enjoy the actual working side of things, at least at the start of the week, there is so much of it that I don't enjoy. Like all the extra organisation that is needed. The intricate planning of childcare arrangements and them being picked up (we only have one car), making sure dinner is organised on the nights I am working, less time to squeeze in a load of washing that should have been done days ago. All the little things that quite honestly I struggled with before I added twenty hours a week out of the house into the mix.

I don't like the rushing here and there, the having to be at another place at a particular time. The dump and run policy I have had to adopt at school because there is just no possible way I feel I could squeeze anything else into my precious time. The fact that sometimes when I drop Zany off at school I know I won't actually see her again until we wake up the next morning.

On top of all of that working makes me tired and cuts into my running time. Neither of which please me greatly.

I keep telling myself that it is all only short term and all for such a very valid reason. The end result of a few hard months will be well and truly worth it.

Deep down I know it to be true.

It's just I don't like living in a moment that involves waiting for the future.

joining in with the IBOT gang over at Essentially Jess

Tom Ronald The Monkey Dog

 It's a funny thing being a blogger. Especially one such as myself that for the most part shares whatever random thoughts just happens to be floating between my ears at any particular point in time.

Over time I have realised this place that I have created here at A Parenting Life is not the hub of parenting advice and knowledge that I originally envisaged it to be. Instead it is a candid reflection on my life. Which I am by no means complaining about. In fact quite the opposite. I love the fact that I have this collection of my thoughts to look back and reminisce on.

When something big happens in my life I immediately want to share it here. Generally I don't give it a second thought and share away. Taking comfort that the event is safely recorded. Recently, well on Friday actually, something big happened in our lives. As yet I haven't shared it because sadly it is a heartbreakingly sad thing and quite frankly I am a bit over myself whinging and carrying on about all my worries.

Only it just doesn't feel right not sharing it.

In fact it feels somewhat disrespectful to just omit and exclude our pain and sadness.

So sorry if you were hoping for rainbows and happiness today because you ain't going to find it here.

Tom Ronald The Monkey Dog
(called the Monkey Dog on account of the noise he would make when happy)
2004-2014

On Friday Mr Awesome and I had to make the heartbreaking decision to put our beloved pooch down. Feeling like the worst person in the world doesn't even begin to describe how I feel about it.
Despite knowing that in so many ways it was for the best and that he is no longer suffering it still sucks big hairy balls. Watching my poor babies grieve makes it all even worse.

At the beginning of the week I had thought that something wasn't quite right with the old fella but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. In hindsight I think that maybe he had been looking at me with pleading eyes for even longer but caught up in my own woes I was ignorant to it all. By Thursday there was no doubt that something wasn't right so I insisted that Mr Awesome take him to the vets.

Which he did. He returned with a range of different pills and a follow up appointment on Tuesday. Initially we had thought he was suffering from a severe bout of blocked bowels. The vet however pointed out that it was probably more likely to be related to his prostate. Since he was the one that had been to doggie medical school we went with his idea.

By the time Friday morning came along there was no doubt that the problem was with his prostate/penis area. The pool of blood dripping from him was a bit of a giveaway really. Thankfully (for me) Mr A had popped home for a car change so I insisted that he drop everything and go back to the vets. Which he readily agreed to and did just that.

You know how sometimes your brain just goes and thinks silly things?

Well this was one of those times for me. As Mr A was gently coercing Tom out the front door and into the car I suddenly had the urge to tell the girls to give Tom a cuddle and say goodbye to him. They were home from school due to a teachers strike. Not wanting to be over dramatic or worry them I decided not to make too much of a big deal about it and they said goodbye in the same manner as if they was just going for a walk

As much as we love our dog we are sadly not made of money. A point which Mr A let the vet know when he arrived. We have heard some horror stories of vet bills and couldn't face a thousands of dollars bill. The vet, who was different to the one they saw the day before, said he totally understood and would be able to investigate the situation without X-rays and only a minor procedure.

Within a few hours the vet had called with the news.

He still wasn't sure exactly what was wrong just that it wasn't good. Far from it in fact. He could operate and investigate further however he still couldn't guarantee he would be able to fix whatever was wrong.

Given his age of ten years and the lack of hope from the vet it honestly felt like there was little option. It seemed like the most humane thing to do.

Thankfully there was enough time for me to take the girls in to say their goodbyes. Though the vet and my mother did question whether that really was the best thing to do. I had no doubt that it was. While the girls were upset as they sat with him and stroked him I think they would have been even more upset to have not had that opportunity. I know I was glad to be able to see him one more time.

He was so much more than just a pet or just a dog. He was our friend and companion, a protector and guard and he is so sorely missed. The house feels empty without him. So so empty. I almost don't want to open the back door anymore because it is such a horrid reminder that he is gone.

Even now as I sit here writing at some ridiculous hour in the morning, I am only too aware that he is not sitting by my side as he once did. Keeping me company while I tap away at my keyboard.

For now though I must go sleep. Which just between you and me is easier said than done. You see there is a part of me that can't help but feel I asked for this to happen in some crazy way.

A few months ago a friend asked me what we would be doing with Tom when we go away. I flippantly replied with a comment about maybe he would die before then. In much the same way I made an offhand comment about Mr A's grandma passing and leaving us a heap of cash when asked how we would fund our trip.

How both those statements haunt me now. Yes that's right Grandma passed away as well.

One of those I can't sigh enough moments.

But enough of that. Let's end on a slightly happier note. A few years ago I wrote about It's a dog's life

Things I Know About Being Grumpy and Growly

 Now it is more than fair to say that things have been a little on the down side here of late. Which I must say I do kinda hate. Actually hate is not really a word I like to use all that often but the rhymer in me couldn't let that opportunity slip on by.

I know that I tried yesterday to not be so grumpy when I did my Thankful Thursday Post but I do kinda get the feeling that the grumps still shone through a little more than I would have liked

I know that the rational side of my brain, albeit a very small part, is telling me that my grumps are as justified as grumps can be.

I know that there is are much larger part of me that doesn't think grumps are ever really justified, even if they are caused by ridiculous amounts of stress and nearly thirteen year olds that make you question why you ever thought mothering was a great idea.

I know that said nearly thirteen year old is probably reacting to her own levels of stress and worry based on my current moods but it would be nice if she could just let up for a teeny tiny bit.

I know that nearly thirteen year olds are meant to buck the system, try your patiences, test the boundaries and all the rest of it, but do they really need to do it every waking minute of every single day?

I know that there has been far too much growling and grumping in this house of late.

I know that for it too change I must be the first to do so.

I know that is easier said than done.

I know that it is hard for me not to beat myself black and blue.

I know that I don't really deserve a black and blue beating, maybe just a small kick up the backside.

I know that I wish some rather inspirational words on a beautiful picture would just appear before my eyes to include in this post.

I know that I did actually see some great words earlier today on Facebook, something about holding onto anger hurt only yourself. Or words to that effect.

"Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured"
- Mark Twain

I know that is not  the quote I saw this morning but I still like it. A lot.

I know that Mark Twain fellow had some very wise words in him. Though I can't help but wonder if he had children when he wrote this. Because I am pretty sure the anger poured upon children does more damage to them than the mother doing the storing and pouring. Shit I am terrible. I must be I just swore on the blog and so hardly ever do that...

I know that the text on the picture is probably going to be to small to read if you are on a mobile device. Sorry. I am quickly running out of time to get this up before I must reluctantly return to the real world as opposed the blissfulness I have found inside the blogosphere today.

I know there were a few times I didn't find blissful peace in the blogosphere, like when I have to go through captcha to leave a comment. Or worse still I visit a blog that joined in with a linky and didn't leave a link back to the owner. Oh my hairs and whiskers.

I know that I shouldn't let the whole no link back thing get to me. I don't know why it does, it just does. Etiquette peoples, please have some.

I know that having said that I must point out that I am joining in all the fun and games of Things I Know hosted by the one and only Miss Cinders. And you should too!

Thankful I got my gear off

Well another week has flown on by. On this time I feel frazzled and worn out and quite frankly there is no real reason why. It is also the first week since I have taken over the ranks of Thankful Thursday hosting that I felt like going to hell with it all, what does it really matter any way?

I am glad though, that is not the path that I opted for.

As grumpy and crotchety as I may feel, I still have so much to be thankful for and perhaps by stopping to think about it I may just manage to snap myself out of it sooner rather than later.

I am thankful that I have finally shared a photo for Naked Tuesday. I have mentioned before how wonderful I think Craig's attitude about life is and with the arrival of my very own Naked Tuesday photo on Tuesday (of all days) I realised there was no time like the present.

I am super thankful to have received so many positive comments about my photo as well.

I am thankful that I now have not one but two appointments with specialists regarding my arm and its' silly clot. After having a mini meltdown in the chemist and then the doctors office on Tuesday because 5 injections were going to cost me the same as what 10 had been, the powers that be finally saw to me getting an appointment with a private specialist next week. The kind receptionist informed that I had skipped a rather long waiting list.

I then returned home, checked the mail and discovered a letter from the hospital had finally arrived letting me know I had an appointment next week.

I am thankful to now be able to get two more opinions on the matter.

I am thankful that we have private health insurance which allows me seek both opinions and not really completely on the public system. Though I guess until next week I won't know exactly how thankful for either I really am.

I am thankful that Mr Awesome has been incredibly awesome in the understanding department when it has come to my erratic moods of the last two days. Apparently the stress of it all hit me like a brick wall when I finally received my highly anticipated appointments and I fell into a thousand little pieces of grumpy worry.

Not that I like to wish my life away but boy will I be glad to finally see some specialists next week.

I am thankful that the dentist I discovered the other week is all kinds of awesome, it makes going back to see him as regularly as what I currently need to a little bit easier.

I am thankful that I was able to find some chocolate covered pretzels in the fridge. As Miss Cinders will attest, chocolate and blogging go hand in hand.

Most of all though I am thankful to all of you who take the time to stop by and say hi. Especially those that take the time to share their own thanks and read the thanks of others.

Speaking of which...

An InLinkz Link-up

Oh and just one more thing, today sees me traipsing back to the dentist and then off to work, I will comment and share your posts on Friday though. Thanks once again for joining in

Oh the emo.

With January done and dusted and Feburary already on the way I am sure it won't be too long before I find myself only days away from embarking on trip of a life time. Which just between you and me does send my heart into slight palpitations.

Not because I don't want to go, because I do, more than anything. In fact waiting till July may actually be some sort of silent torture that I fail to remain silent on. The cause of my palpitations is money. I am starting to worry about how on this green earth we are going to be able to afford not working for twelve months.

Saving has never been one of my strongest points.

Actually anything that involves dedication or commitment or any type of patiences is not really my strong point. But then again right now in my current frame of mind I would probably fail to think of any strong point I may have. Well at least a positive one.

Exhale.

Deep breath in.

Repeat.

Of course deep down I know that is not true, I have all kinds of amazing strong points. Not only that but the fact that I have kept this little old blog running for so long quite possibly means I do have some inkling of dedication or commitment...maybe.

I guess that was why the writing every day in January was of such importance to me. It was my own internal benchmark for knowing I had actually done something on a regular basis. While there are three days without a post here, not to mention a few days of frenzied back posting as I approached the middle of my quest, I am still going to call it a raging success.

For while I may not have got here for those three days, I was posting elsewhere and I also managed to compile a page with links to some of my greatest and finest posts. Well at least according to me. So on many levels I guess that is a kind of winning.

As is the fact that February is off to a flying start!