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.

Changing to find the right words

It's fair to say that writing here on this old blog of mine has taken a bit of a back seat of late. Partly because of the busyness of life and partly because I just haven't been sure of what to say. Which quite frankly has made me a bit sad.

A Parenting Life has always been a place where I could find something to say. Sure it might not always have been the best of things but it was at least something, which is always better than nothing.

Anyways while I lamented over not being able to find the right words to write here it seemed like I had only one option.

Start a new blog.

Seriously.

I struggled to find the right words for here so surely it would be easy to find some words for a new blog with a fresh new start?

Well the first post was, but then I realised I didn't like the dodgy header I put together in a rush and suddenly not only could not share my new space with anyone but nor could I find words for there either.

This wonderful new blog title sat empty for well over a week while I tried desperately to think of something of worth to say. My answer to finding my words again just made the words even harder to find.

Oh the sighing.

To make things even worse stupid Facebook made things next to impossible to change the name of my page from A Parenting Life. I reluctantly went about setting up a new one only given how long it has taken to build my community I wonder why.

Anyway yesterday I bit the bullet and managed to actually write something that I deemed worthy of being able to post in my new space. I still don't know exactly what to do with my old space though. There are so many words and so many memories it doesn't seem right for it to just stop being.

For now though it will be and I guess over time everything else will work itself out.

Joining in with Jess for IBOT

On conquering Mount Everest. Or at least Stove Hill

When we were in Karratha, many moons ago, or at least so it seems, there was this hill. Though I liked to think of it as a mountain it probably was not really big enough to be considered as such. Given that Darwin is nothing but flat land though it was easy for me to think of it as a mountain despite it actually just being a hill. But already I am digressing.

Either way it was a rather large and some what intimidating pile of dirt and rocks.

This hill, according to the camera in my phone, was known as Stove Hill and was located right out the front of our caravan park. There was a dodgy looking dirt road that slowly wound it’s way up to the top but we never drove it. Mainly because when we pulled into Karratha we had issues with our clutch but also because right near the top it looked ridiculously steep and as awesome as Patty the Patrol might be we doubted his ability to conquer this particular pile of dirt and rocks.

Ok so this image doesn't really show just how steep Stove Hill is,
but it is an impressive view

On our second day in Karratha I decided to head out for a run. Having treated myself to new sneakers a month earlier it seemed only fitting that I get out and use them. As I lamented over where exactly my run would take me, Lovely made some flippant comment about doubting my ability to run to the top of Stove Hill. 

Initially I agreed with her because looking up at it from the ground it looked ridiculously steep. 

The more I thought about it however, the more I started to think that me getting to the top wasn’t so unachievable after all. It was most definitely worth a try at the very least. Especially since my said new sneakers were purchased for tail running as much as road racing.

So off I went.

The first half of the run was rather enjoyable and I felt all kinds of awesome. Striding out on the rocky trail my minds eye had me as a hardcore trail runner that could tackle anything in her path.

Slightly after the halfway mark though things took a turn for the worse. The steepness that I had seen from the ground suddenly became more than apparent. My running, which was quite possibly better described as a slow jog, slowed even further. Actually it slowed so much it essentially became a walk, but on I went.

By this stage my determination had well and truly set in. I would not be beaten by a pile of dirt and rocks. Regardless of how big or steep they may actually be.

As a mother I want my girls to be proud of me. I want to possess certain qualities that they will one day aspire to also possess. You know things like strength and determination. It was with this in mind that I kept on keeping on.

A little further on up the hill even walking became more of a challenge. As much as my flash new sneakers were meant for trail running they were not providing me with a whole lot of grip on the gravelly path that was meant to lead me to the top of the hill. In order to keep going I had to crouch down, for a while I was down so low I was pretty much crawling.

Come hell or high water though I was getting to the top of that bloody hill.

About ten metres from the top the path started to turn in a direction that no longer lead to my desired destination. Standing there, so close, and yet so far, to where I wanted to be I couldn’t just turn around and head for home. 

Despite my allotted time being nearly up and me huffing and puffing for breath like an allergy suffer in the middle of a field of flowers I refused to just walk away. If the path didn’t want to lead me to where I wanted to go then I would just forge ahead and create my own path.

Right there and then on top of that pile of rocks and dirt that half an hour ago had seemed so insurmountable, I suddenly felt more empowered than I ever had in my whole life.

Life is all about standing up to the challenges before and charging on through with all the gusto we can muster. Which was exactly what I intended to do to reach the top. I was not going home a quitter.

With a bounce in my step I started to make my way over the boulders and spinifex balls that were before me. My head filled with all kinds of crazy notions about me paving the way and leading the pack. Because of my efforts I would become an inspirational leader. Even if it were only to my offspring.

Me, feeling like I was standing
on top of the world

When at last I reached the summit one could have been mistaken for thinking I had conquered Mount Everest the grin on my face was so wide. I stood there at the top of the hill we thought could not be climbed revelling in all my glory.

I had done it.

The journey down was considerably easier than the way up on account of having the gravitational forces on my side. Well that and I was on a high at having actually made it to the top in one piece. Words can not adequately describe how good it felt to have accomplished something that I had set out to do. It is somewhat of a rarity in my life.

As I headed back home I was filled with excitement at being able to tell the girls what I had achieved. Words for a blog post on determination and hard work filled my head and I longed for a few moments at the keyboard to tap it all out. It felt like a new chapter in my life had begun, one where I could tackle anything I set my mind to.

On being disconnected

One of the things that I have liked most about #ouradventureofalifetime so far is the way it has made us so disconnected from the world at large. Though I must admit that this comes as no surprise to me. As even before we left it was something that I looked forward to.

For a while I worried about what this meant. Why did I desire so badly to be disconnected?

As a blogger, sharer and communicator a desire to be disconnected is probably not what you would expect from me. You know since I regularly try and get people to connect with my words and all...

I started to think that perhaps there was something wrong with me. Humans are not meant to want to be isolated and alone. We are community driven beings rather than islands. Apparently.

Today was a stark reminder as to why being disconnected was so appealing.

When you are disconnected you don't know about war torn countries or people displaced, pressured and murdered because of their religion or planes that crash or people that desperately wanted to be parents only to then abandoned the child they had paid for.

Or famous people that filled the world with laughter and then took their own life.

Being in a time zone that is hours behind most other places the news of this tragic event had filled my Facebook news feed before I had finished my morning coffee. It didn't seem real, though of course I knew it was. There were too many posts for it to be misinformation.

Our day had already been planned so before long we were on the the road and quickly out of mobile and internet range. With the excitement of a new road to drive on and places to discover this heartbreaking news soon left my mind.

No more thought paid to it until we returned. The beauty of being disconnected.

By the time my fellow bloggers had all found their voice and my newsfeed now filled with tales of depression and the need to break the taboo that surrounds this ghastly disease. A disease that no one, rich, famous, happy, poor or anything else in between is immune from.

It makes me sad to think there are so many unhappy and troubled people in the world. So many beings unable to live to their potential and crippled by a disease that so largely goes unseen. Somewhere along the line today I read that some three thousand people will take their life today.

As crowded as the world may be it does not need to lose that many people in that manner. In fact no one anywhere should lose someone in that manner.

When we were in Kununurra the other week the Black Dog Riders dropped in to stay the night. These guys do an amazing job at trying to create awareness of depression and suicide. I love that this is a project by men and primarily for men. You see I worry more about men's depression than women's.

Just about everyone everywhere talks about women and depression. And rightly so because it is a burning issue. But that does not mean men do not suffer either.

A late night ramble

The machines are all quietly whirring away doing my chores for me, allowing me a few moments to sit with my own whirring mind.

Today (Friday, which is now actually yesterday) has felt like a never ending rush from here to there and back again. I am quite certain that I passed myself coming and going on more than one occasion.

If I was a sensible as I sometimes claim to be be I would not be here right now. Instead I would be snuggled up alongside Mr Awesome in the comfort of our bed. Allowing my poor weary body some much need rest. The opportunity to sit alone with my thoughts though was to good to pass up.

Thoughts and words have been floating around my head all evening.

As I wiped the harden breakfast cereal from the morning, off the table I had written the start of this post in my head at least five times over. Naturally, all of which sound better than what I have managed to produce right now.

That is always the way though.

It is easy to claim something which is not actually here is better than what really is. Much like it is easier to complain about oneself than give the praise which is more often than not more deserved.

I have been particularly harsh on myself of late. Some of which is possibly quite deserved, though all of is most definitely not. Deep down I do know that, but for the most part I am far to easy on myself, I let myself get away with far too much.

There are times when toughness is called for and that time for me is probably now. The tricky thing about being tough on yourself though is it must be done in a manner in which incites action. It is pointless to label all one's faults and not do anything about them.

For now though I am going to stop fighting sleep and get some of the rest I complain of lacking.

Things I Know About Perspective

 If you were hanging round this neck of the woods on Tuesday you would have read something already about the notion of perspective. It followed on from my very first post of the year where I welcomed the start of 2014 and pondered over the possibility of selecting a word to guide me through the year.

Even now, as I type this, I am not really sure how perspective really fits as a word of the year type word but at this point it is all I have got so I am running with it.

There is something about it (perspective) that just keeps floating around the inside of my brain telling me to keep it at the forefront of my mind. Not being one who likes to ignore the rather random and nonsensical thoughts that wander between my ears from time to time I am trying to explore this whole perspective thing a bit further.

Perspective - it's all about how you look at it

original images by raZna

I know that perspective is the way that you see things.

I know that your perspective depends on who you are and what you have been through.

I know that my perspective may be different to yours and vice versa.

I know that perspective changes with both time and experience.

I know that stopping to consider the perspective of others is an important human trait.

I know that seeing someone else's perspective is not always easy.

I know that even when we try and consider someone else's perspective unless they tell us what their perspective is we will never really know for sure.

I know that sometimes we may never understand someone else's perspective, but we should always try.

I know that it is our perspective that helps to shape our life and the way it is lived.

I know that our perspective is our choice.

I know that I am linking  up the The Miss Cinders

The Black Dog

The other day a while flitting about on Facebook a friend shared a link to an Upworthy post that offered explanation to as to what depression was like.

Personally I have managed to escape any formalised diagnosis of depression. There was an instance a few years ago (not long after Teapot was born and my father had passed away) where I think I may have come pretty close to ticking a lot of depression boxes. I am glad those days are behind me.

Anyway there was so much in this clip that I wanted to remember I decided sharing it was the easiest way to save it for later. That and the fact I hadn't yet organised a post for today and I am not yet ready to walk away from post every day challenge.

So here it is for your enlightenment and my memory later.

Perspective.

With the new year well and truly here now, most people have got their inspirational and motivational post for the year out. You know the one where they go on about all the wonderful things that they hope to accomplish and all that they hope to be the whole year through and all that blah blah blah?

Of course we all know by now that I am not like most people. In fact I wonder if most people really are like most people? You know on account of all the differences that we all have, but already I am getting off track.

Come the first of January I tried to be like most people and sat down to write a post about the wonders of the new year and all that it would hold. Really all I did was welcome 2014 and whinge about not having enough money or being able to get a dream job. Go me.

"The pessimist sees difficulty in every opportunity; the optimist sees opportunity in every difficulty." Perspective defines how you see the world, and the decisions you make in response to situations which may arise.
Image found here

I know at the end of the post I hinted about maybe having the word perspective as my word of the year. An idea that I have toyed with for nearly a week now. So much so that I have even named this post (well at least tentatively while I try and get it written) with the notion of it being about perspective.

Yet something doesn't quite feel right about it. And by something I mean, actually I have no idea exactly what I mean. Which quite frankly is driving me bonkers because for the most part I am certain I am on to something (provided of course I work out what that something is)

Screen shot taken from here

Now I know that there are few sureties in this crazy old world of ours but one thing that is relatively common is the fact that we all have varying perspectives. That is not to say similar perspectives aren't shared amongst people, because they are, but to me it is the differences that need greater consideration, acknowledgement and acceptance. Which I think for me is what I want to focus on this year.

The way other people look at the world at large. Their perspective. The way they see things differently from myself. While it might just be some fleeting half brained idea, the notion that there is much to be learned from our differences keeps bouncing around my pretty little head.

My list of faults is long and tedious. I am a work in progress. As much as I am full of awesome (particularly in my own lunch box) there are some fundamental changes to my being that need to be made I want make. Things like my lack of motivation or laziness, the line between the two is thin and blurred. I need to find new ways to look at things to encourage myself to just get them done. And by things in this instance I mean boring household tasks that often feel like they suck the life force out of me.

Post by Kate Says Stuff.

To me this is the essence of perspective and why being able to see the perspective of others has it's advantages.

In this case I can see both perspectives. Yes I too show my family I love them with cuddles and time spent together rather than doing the laundry. However there is no denying that the laundry will always need doing. In fact at the end of each and every day there will be laundry patiently waiting to be seen to.

So when I have no choice but to get on with tackling Mount Washmore or Mount Foldmenow, I gently remind myself that I will do so with a happy heart and not begrudgingly because I love my family and they love clean clothes. Well I assume they do, I know I do.

Chores, whether we like it or not must be done. We expect our children to just get on with them without constant complaining and I am starting to realise that I must as well. Especially if I am going to assign myself to the whole be who you want your children to be ideology. At the end of the day it all boils down to how you look at things and your perspective.

Originally this post was called Perspective - Don't only think of yours. I had intended (hoped?) that it would be a post about the beauty of putting yourself in someone else's shoes, looking through their eyes and trying to see things from their perspective. By doing so I believe that you will open yourself up to a world of new possibilities that you may not have been able to see before. Some of which will give you a better understanding of those around you. Obviously though that is not quite how it turned out.

Mind you I am just glad this is now out, it was kinda blocking me in many ways. I am sure though that there will be another post or two about the importance of perspective for me this year.

Joining in with IBOT with Essentially Jess

Dear Me (The soon to be second time breastfeeding mum who thinks she has it all sorted)...

So you think you have this all worked out do you? 

This being a mum and breastfeeding and what not, is walk in the park is it? 

Don't understand why some people go on about it being hard work and hurting?

Living with a warm and fuzzy memory of being a breastfeeding guru on account of such a text book and perfect experience the first time around are you?

Well sorry to be the one to break it to you sweetheart but all will not be as expected and you will quickly be reminded of the fact that no two babies or breastfeeding journeys, are ever exactly the same.

Oh and yes, breastfeeding is actually a learned experience, one that each baby must learn, regardless of how much mum may think she actually knows. And on that note regardless of how much that mum does know nine times out of ten there is still more that she doesn't know.

Sure you may have managed to blitz through the whole breastfeeding thing the first time round with Lovely being a total booby fiend and suckling like there was no tomorrow the instant a nipple was anywhere near her little mouth, but that doesn't mean this next one is going to be like that. Especially since Lovely was just a natural sucker, given how much she loved her thumb and all. 

This next little baby will test and try your breastfeeding love in ways you could never imagine. Those first few days where you are still in that total new mum haze might seem blissful, enjoy them while you can, because once your milk comes in things will change in ways you never imagined. In those first few weeks months, your new little bundle of joy will enlighten you to the pain, trouble and difficulty that you have heard others speak of. The pain, trouble and difficulty, that somehow you managed to escape the first time round. (Or perhaps remove from memory? Five years is long time between drinks) 

Thankfully though due to some determination, magic cream and the wonders of time it will change and you will reinstate the belief that breastfeeding is pure bliss. The burning electricity that runs through your breast during those first few sucks will eventually start to fade. The cracks will start to heal and slowly but surely feeding your baby will be just as picturesque as it should be. Only now you will have greater compassion and understanding for the many women who don't find it as natural as the postcards make it to be.

You will slowly evolve into an experienced feeder who will be able to do all manner of activities while baby is attached. You will learn the wonders of feeding and laying down at the same time, something that somehow you never thought of the first time round. You still won't bother too much at all about expressing and putting into bottles so Dad or Big Sister can have a turn but with hindsight there will be a part of you that wishes you did. Mind you that hindsight won't kick in until well after you have finished breastfeeding and baby making.

You will also go on to feed babies for a total that exceeds seven years. Each baby staying on the boob for around two and half years. The third time round you will enter the journey more prepared than ever before. A good balance of reality and optimism in your hand. As well as magic nipple toughening cream to lessen the damage of those almost inevitable cracks.

You will also feel rather special when an Online Breastfeeding Cafe set up by the Australian Breastfeeding Association asks you to write a letter to yourself as part of a Dear Me Campaign they are running to help women who may be feeling ambivalent about breastfeeding and encourage them to share, discover and chat about breastfeeding via a supportive online forum and resource centre. They also have a wonderful Online Breastfeeding Cafe's Facebook page to help such discussion.

Love Me.

Completely and utterly unattended

The silence is almost deafening. In fact it is so silent there is a ringing in my ears. I struggle to remember the last such a stillness descended upon the house. 

image from esheep

Of course now that I stop to think how quiet it all is I find my ears barraged with a range of sounds. From cars passing in the distance, to the buzzing of the electrical appliances, not to mention the fish tank aerator, squawking birds flying past and the constant tapping of my fingers upon the keyboard.

Some how the universe managed to swing it that I found myself at home. All alone. Completely and utterly unattended. Which believe you me is completely and utterly amazing. Perhaps even beyond that.

Mr Awesome has his work Christmas party tonight. Which meant that the girls were shipped off to my mum's as I was expected invited to attend said party. All very good and well until when dropping the children off at Nan's the littlest one says my ear hurts mum. And then promptly bursts into tears.

The fact that she willingly took the panadol offered to her was quite possibly a sign of just how much pain she was in. Mother of the year here though decided to ignore it because, well, a night out is a night out, even if it is with a bunch of people I have little to no ability to communicate with. Plus I may or may not have planned to pike early on the night anyway to enjoy some quiet time at home.

Being all organised and not rushing things, I was dropping the children off with an hour or two to spare before the party started. This meant of course by the time the party was about to start I felt obliged to check in and see how it was all going.

Stupid me.

Of course it was going terribly. 

Teapot was still moaning about her ear, while Lovely was still making attempts to escape. It was with great reluctance that I even got her there in the first place. She is currently without access to her iDevice, however felt it was only *fair* she got to take it to the sleepover. Naturally her version of fair and mine are vastly different. The device was left at home and she promised to cry blue murder about it until the situation was rectified.

Poor Lovely is in the process of learning the world does not actually spin on an axis that revolves purely around her. Unfortunately for her, and all involved, she appears instant on doing this the hard way and fighting me every inch of the way.

Sigh.

Anyways being the Mother of the Year that I am, I went on partying. Actually the party was at a bowling alley so I stuck around and had a game. I did not however enjoy an alcoholic bereave. Which was really the only real attraction of going. Instead, deciding to be just a little bit responsible and stay with soft drinks. Once I had remembered how incredibly crap I am at bowling though I decided that maybe it was best if I went and saw to the children. 

By now Teapot had been to sleep for a bit, woken up and was still going on about her sore ear. Lovely had also come to terms with the fact that sometimes I do actually get to pull rank on her and not give in. Aside from all of that the 35 week pregnant lady and the recently engaged chick were well and truly doing my head in with their constant chatter about their impending life changes. Ones that I have already been through and without being rude am not really interested in hearing about from other people I see but once a year. A three year old with a sore ear and her hormonal twelve year old sister suddenly appeared very appealing. (No I don't understand why I don't have many friends do you?)

So I get to my mother's house only to discover that Teapot's ear has had a miraculous recovery. Apparently a bath can fix anything. Oh to be three. Thanks to the panadol for finally kicking in perhaps?

After an hour of hanging with them Teapot informed that she did not want to come home with me. Lovely of course was using every inch of self restraint that she could muster not to scream out how much she would like to come home with me. Bless her. I love it when she shines out rays of hope like that.

I loved her even more when she was so accepting of me returning to the party. There is nothing more wonderful than seeing a child learn a lesson. Even if it will only be temporary before she decides to see how far she can push me once more. The never-ending dance of teenage power struggle.

Of course I had no intention of returning to the party. I am not a very good sober bob. Even there is a drink to be had then I would most certainly like to having it. How else can one tolerate the idiocy of a drunk if one is not drunk also? Plus, the temptation of a silent home is very hard to resist.

So here I sit. Alone and unattended. Basking in the glow of my screen and the silence of my ears. Cautiously waiting for the message to say it has once again all come undone. For now though as I inhale the beauty of solitude I will just enjoy me. Doing things that I like to do, that only benefit me. Like trawling round the internet and catching up on some blog reading and writing.

Things I Know that make me go FFS

Now I know that for the most part I am all airy fairy, lovey dovey, Miss peace and happiness, but of late that has not been working out so well for me. So I thought I would try something a little different today. 

image from here with thanks

I am still sharing some things I know, because Miss Cinders is one of my most favourite blogs and I just love joining in with her. However today I am sharing things I know that make me go FFS and also joining in with Dear Baby G

I know that there is a recurring theme to most of the things that make me go FFS.

Can you guess what it is?

I'll give you a hint, it is a 8 letter word, starts with c and ends with n.

No? Well here is another hint.

I have three of them and honestly I know that some days they should be bloody thankful that they live to see another day FFS

I know that seriously I wouldn't really throttle them to within an inch of their life (and some days possibly even a little further), and I shouldn't joke about it on the internets, someone could get the wrong impression FFS

I know that most of the FFSness around said children mainly revolves around the eldest. Though she manages to get me so worked up that it doesn't take much from the other two to have me screaming and pulling my hair out FFS

I know that is didn't expect the teenage years to be trouble free but I most certainly didn't expect them to be so bloody hard before they even arrived FFS

I know that I have done more deep breathing, counting and walking away in the last two weeks than I have ever done before FFS

I know that it is all hormonal and this too shall pass and all that other crap that is hard to remember when you are actually living in a daily hell because someone refuses to abide by the rules FFS

I know  though that hormonal or not there is still no excuse for me having to ask six thousand and seventy three billion times for the dishwasher to be emptied FFS. The same can be said for putting clothes away and picking up wet towels FFS

I know that rain on my washing days (is it only me who hears Alanis when they read those words?) makes me want to scream FFS very loudly. Even though it justifies me using the dryer, I know have a massive power bill to look forward to. FFS 

I know there is just no pleasing some people FFS.  The fact that I am complaining about not being able to fit *all* my towels in the dryer at once FFS is testament to that. I am sure there are many out there screaming at me but at least you have a dryer FFS. yes yes I know

I know that as much as I don't like to swear on the blog, going FFS all the way through this post has made me feel a lot better than when I was screeching like a banshee at the kids this morning FFS

And last I know that joining in with all these lovely bloggers below makes me go anything but FFS

here

here

here

here

Some late edition FFS's include the little buttons not lining up where I wanted to and then when the where as good as I could get them there were no links included FFS (all fixed now though) Of course this was after loading the image sent me to distraction and back because the silly programs didn't want to work properly FFS

Some thoughts on confidence

Now handing over the reins is not something that I do easily. Well not normally anyway. I can be a control freak just like anyone. Today however I have handed over blogging on a Tuesday, and I have done so with great pleasure.

Last week as I was trying to avoid actually doing something constructive with my time, I turned to my Facebook page with a whine of how exhausted I was feeling after a hard day of community building at the school. The reality of my day was that I had actually held someone else's baby (with glee mind you) while she (the mother, not the baby) actually did all the work serving the kids at the Father's Day stall.

Anyways, a loyal liker, who also just happens to an old high school bestie, shared that she had sat an exam that day. Knowing her like I do, I assured her that she probably had little to fear from the exam and passed with flying colours (or words to that effect). Which being the super modest chick she is, Angela politely deflected which then resulted in a brief epiphany on the topic of confidence.

Now I am not sure who said what, but before we both knew it, Angela had agreed to sharing a few of her thoughts on confidence in the shape of a blog post.

So without further adieu I give to you the wonderful words of Ms Angela.

Image from here

Having just finished a semester exam I decided to check out what was happening in the land of Facebook. Scrolling through my feed I saw an update from A Parenting Life, asking what I had been up to. When Rhianna heard of my exam she complimented me on my skills as a student. Which I instictively went to deflect.

I’d carried out the weekly work all semester and felt confident going into the exam, but instead of simply thanking Rhianna for her compliment I deflected it with the modesty that most women are trained to display from a young age. 

After I had written my response though I realised that I might be onto something: maybe confidence does stem from putting the groundwork in?

Academics has always been my forte; I do not have to ‘make’ myself put the work in, I just do it. That said, I can still fail the course if I don’t put the work in each week. I was confident about doing well in the exam because I did the necessary work.

Confidence comes from knowing your strengths, but it also comes from knowing your weaknesses and how to work around them. 

A person might prefer to plan ahead for a particular situation and might not like surprises or sudden changes of plan. In this case she can consider various scenarios that might derail her plans and plan for or visualise how she is going to deal with them. 

Someone else may be going somewhere new but is uncertain in new places. She can improve her confidence in various ways, such as asking someone who has been there, researching it online, or asking staff for assistance on arrival. 

Your preferred style of preparation may vary from mine; I prefer to do basic research and then plan what I am going to do. I like to limit the amount of input because I get ‘paralysis by analysis’, ending up with so much information that I can’t make a decision. You might like to talk to people whose opinion you trust. I prefer to keep positive thoughts running through my head, while you may prefer to get a pep talk from a friend or family member.

Obviously there are some people who are easy-going enough to walk into most situations with confidence, and I say that their confidence still stems from having put groundwork in, just in a less intensive way. These people are able to quickly draw on previous experiences, and it’s this that gives them confidence.

The takeaway:

Embrace your strengths and understand your weaknesses. Know how to work around your weaknesses.

Research and plan ahead in the way that you find most useful, but beware of ‘paralysis by analysis’.

Draw on previous experiences – preferably positive. If an experience is negative, focus on what you’ve learned, rather than on what went wrong.

And finally:

Confidence doesn’t always just happen, so don’t beat yourself up if you have to work at it!

Planning in the pipeline

Image from here

After an early night, that happened to coincide with a reasonable good sleep I found myself bright eyed and bushy tailed at the rather ungodly hour of half past four this morning. Thinking a quick trip to the loo was all I needed to do to return the land of slumber I jumped up and headed to the bathroom.

Only after emptying the contents of my bladder and returning to my indredibly warm and squishy bed (thanks to two small misplaced beings) I discovered that returning to sleep was by no means a viable option. Thankfully I had somehow managed to waste a whole thirty minutes in the process which made five o'clock seem like a much more reasonable get up time.

As the two small misplaced being were still enjoying their sweet dreams while occupying the majority of my half of the bed, getting up and facing day really was the only feasible choice. Especially since such an early rise time equalled quiet writing time. While there were naturally jobs that could have been done, making a noise and disturbing the entire house is never the best way to start a Monday.

With all the excitement of Father's Day activities at the school, not to mention the actual event of Father's Day itself, it feels like forever and a day since I actually managed to get something written. Mind you even just not writing for one day sometimes feels like forever when there are words inside that I just want to get out.

Of course the words that I did get out today still weren't exactly the ones I had been thinking of but they were a start. I have decided that I need to go back to making things matter. Despite not writing there any more because my poor little ego didn't like not getting read I have now decided that is exactly what I need. And by that I mean a I need a place to openly express without worrying too much about losing loyal readers that aren't interested in knowing what mundane aspects of life I am trying to make matter.

Due to the crazy interior workings of my mind I seem to operate better when I put things out there to the world at large, regardless perhaps of whether or not the world at large is in fact interested. Anyway when I was making time to write over at MTTMIM I did actually feel as if I was making ground towards being the best me that I can be. So it makes sense (to me at least) to try and write there a little bit more.

Naturally I would love to have you along for the journey so feel free to pop in and see how I am doing. To start with most of the posts I expect to be a bit drull, lots of lists and tasks and what have you as I try and sort myself out a little more. There will also be some exercise related stuff as I try and bring that nemesis back into my life. Over time I hope that some of the posts will be inspirational and useful to others sick of floating around but not actually achieving more out of life. 

So there you have it. A very loose outline of my pipeline plans. 

Are you a planner? 

Any tips on how to plan my life a little better?

Monday Mention - America For Alyssa

At some point in my blogging journey I recall that of a Monday I would join in a little thing called Monday Mention. It was hosted by Tammy over at Ramblings Of A Brokenhearted Mummy and as a relative newbie blogger at the time I thought it was a great way to not only share some blogging love but also discover new blogs that I could dream to aspire to.

The idea of Monday Mention was to share some bloggy love and mention any blogs or blog posts that had caught your eye the previous week. Sadly though it was not exactly a well attended linky and before long I drfited on to other things.

Today I thought that I might resurect the good old Monday Mention but with a slight twist. To start with it won't be a linky, it will just be me mentioning whatever it is that has tickled my fancy. It may also not be the most regular of things, just as the mood strikes or whenever I come across something I just can't help but mention.

So what is it this week that I just have to mention and share with you all?

America For Alyssa

I first came across Alyssa's story thanks to Carmen a few weeks ago. I instantly liked the America For Alyssa Facebook page and offered to spread the word as far as I could. Which essentially meant I planned on writing a blog post because that is the furtherest way to spread my word. (Though if I continue to use words like furtherest in that sense I may cease to spread at all).

Anyways I imagine at this point you haven't clicked through the links yet and are wondering who is Alyssa and what has America got to do for her.

Well Alyssa is a surving craniopagus cojoined twin. She and her sister Bethany were born 2001. Which just so happens to be the same year that Lovely was born in case you were wondering, though you probably weren't. The reason why I bring it up is because Alyssa and Bethany were actually born within a month of Lovely. For the life of me though I can not remember hearing anything about it.

Nor can I recall  hearing of their emergency surgery a month later. Sadly Bethany lost her fight for life soon after this and Alyssa endured twenty three and half hours of surgery including not one but two cardiac arrests. Again I was in such a new baby bubble I was oblivious to it all. So much so that I missed not one but two reports shown on Sixty Minutes in the months after the twins birth.

In case you are interested the stories can be found here to save you the search

The Nolan Twins
The Nolan Twins Part Two

Having just watched them both now though, I can understand why as a new mum I may have blocked it all out. She says as she wipes the tears away.

One thing that I couldn't help but notice, both in the interviews and through the Facebook page is the courage and determination that Mary, Alyssa's mum, faces all that is before her with. As well as Bethany and Alyssa, Mary also has three wonderful sons.

Next year will see the first ever meeting of Families of Conjoined Twins held in Kansaa USA. One can only image what it would be like for Mary and Alyssa to catch up with people in a similar boat to theirs. Hence America For Alyssa.

Getting to America is not going to be an easy process. The funds needed are in order of $20, 000. Which for anyone is fair wad of cash. Mary and Alyssa are not asking for individual handouts because Mary knows how everyone is facing their own financial hardships. What they would really love though is as many Facebook likes on their page as possible. Something we can all easily help out with!

The more Facebook likers the more likely a large scale sponsor. So what are you waiting for go and get liking the America for Alyssa page.

It's 3 am...

Actually it is more like 7.25am but 3am is much catchier. When I thought of the title it was 5.21am and since that was only a little over two hours after 3am I figured my writers license could cover the difference. Since then however I have been prevented from writing as I have been busy mediating two over tired and preventing them from causing harm to one and other. 

Two more days to school holidays.Actually scratch that, this has taken so long to get out there is now only one day left

Maybe that should have been my title?

I can not wait for this much needed break. The monotony of school routine has almost become to much to bare. Though by monotony I think I may actually mean frustration.

Speaking of which it is now well past 3pm. Where did the day go?

Sitting here now at 3.45pm I would like to say the day flew by in a flurry of activity, leaving me feeling productive and accomplished, but that would be kinda like lying. The day slipped away in a slow motion blur of my just going through the phases of trying to get something, anything done.

Would you believe that it is now preciously 24 hours since I first sat down to type?

image source

Time is such a funny thing. I think about time all the time. Always have. It both fascinates and scares the bejeezes out of me at the same time. Especially as a mother. I think that once you become a mother, from that moment that little egg is fertilised and begins to grow into an embryo and beyond, time starts to take on a whole new meaning.

I can remember a time, well it was a particular night actually. Actually it was probably the early hours of the morning by the time this memory took place, but really that is all a bit irrelevant I guess. Anyway, this one time, but not band camp, in my teeny tiny smaller than the shoebox I now live in unit, my love of my life at the time got so frustrated with my obsession with all things time, that he smashed his fist right through our clock.

It was horrific. It snapped me right out of where I was (which by the way was thinking I had the power to alter time, slow seconds and all manner of crazy things)

We were clearly of altered minds during this time. Something that I am not necessarily proud of but it is what it is. Or rather it is what is was. We were young and stupid and thinking we were living life. The upside to all of this is that when it comes to discussing drugs and alcohol with the girls I will have a little more to offer than what some brochure or book has to say.

But as always I digress a little.

I have had the following floating around for a month or two. It is written on the scrappiest piece of paper you ever did see. Children have doodled on it, the bird has poohed on the corner and my hand writing is so rushed and messy that it is all barely legible anyway.

Mr Awesome has gone to throw it out numerous times. Thankfully I have been able to save it just in time. I don't blame him really it does look like rubbish. On the surface at least. To me it is something else though. What I am not sure, I just know I want to be able to come back and read it whenever I want.

And now I can.

It's funny how moments just slip us by.
Moments that could be savoured forever. 
Moments that should be saved forever, slip by our hands almost like sands through the hourglass.

Seconds that just tick tock past quicker than we know.
Faster than what we can really see.
Taken and enjoyed all within an instant.
A heart beat before it is done.
Life offers so much more than what we think it holds.