Gettin it DONE!

I’m a busy person. I always have been.

I could tell you that after having cancer I became all philosophical about life – it’s possibilities and un quenchable desire to go out there and give it my all, that tends to follow such life altering experiences. Yet I would be lying. Not completely, don’t get me wrong. An experience like that rarely leaves one without and somewhat different view of the world. Though it wasn’t the bottom kicking excuse I needed to have a ‘Go get em’ attitude, it was merely just another reason.

I get asked a lot ‘How do I do it?’.

To be honest, I’m not entirely sure what people mean sometimes when they ask it, because truthfully, I never really feel like I have my shit together!

It goes to show that the perceived you, the real you, and the ego are all very different, yet unnervingly intertwined and evolving personas.

‘How do you find the time?’, I get asked.

I’ll tell you a little secret… come closer…. I’ll fill you in on something you may never have realised….

I have 24 hours in a day and 7 days in a week. The same as you. So maybe instead of asking me how do I find the time… turn to yourself and ask yourself this…

‘am I worth the time?’

There is nothing grand to my life, I have no magical spell to help you along the way, the difference, I suppose, when I reflect on this question. Is that I make the time.

That may seem easier said than done, but the thing is, you have to really want anything in life in order to justify it to yourself to be worth your time.

I’m also not fearful to give something a go. I mean, what’s the point? So maybe I’ll suck, but hey, maybe I wont!

I remember sitting in my car once with my husband, talking about something I was going to try that week, honestly I can’t for the life of me remember what it was, but he turned to me and said very proudly.

‘that’s one thing I love the most about you, you’ll try anything, you don’t give a fuck’.

And if I’m honest, that’s the attitude you need to have. You can NOT afford to give your time to someone else thoughts! YOUR life won’t wait for your ego to catch up! It’s now or it’s never.

One of my oldest friends caught up with me the other day after she went to a Tony Robbins seminar (google him if you have never heard of him) – his words to her (to everyone) was;

“surround yourself with doers and motivated people”

So she called me, and we caught up and had a big ole chat about her life, her plans and my reason for just ‘getting it done’.  He is right, obviously. There are people out there who will try to disenchant and disable your ability, to undersell your abilities to you and cut you off as you grow. These are not ‘YOUR’ people. These are not conducive to a life that is ‘gettin it done’. So find those people, make it happen, support other people who seek your love and spirit. Don’t ever feel unworthy of someone’s warmth and spirit in return.

You are in complete control of your choices. So make the choice, everyday, don’t look back and ‘get it done’. I do, everyday.

Lets begin again.

Im a mumma. For the longest time (going on 8 years now) i have struggled to understand what that meant for me. Im sure most women do.

Mothering is a many wonderful clichés, gifted to you in a most fashionable guise. Prettied up with all the trimmings - instagram worthy of course. But mothering, real honest to goodness mothering is back breaking stuff. Its not pretty, but it is real, and therin lies the beauty.

Mothering to me is a many splendid and aching things.  Its wet towels on tiled floors (again), its giggles from the bath tub. Its schoolbags chucked down at the entry, its conquering his home reader. Its their punch ups over whos turns first, its my eldest teaching my 6year old how to play footy. Its waking up for midnight feeds - its watching them squeal in delight when she crawled for the first time.

I guess im learning, that mothering is an ocean of existence. I am humbled by its magnificent greatness as it pours out from me, surrounding me. I'm realising that this mothering thing, there are no answers - only being. Only existing within its folds. Feeling the waves crash and tumble around me.

What is most important though, and i am only now beginning to realise this. Is we are already lost within its embrace. It takes hold and all is lost to it. Mothering is as much a state of being as it is in the things we do. We are forever changed, forever richer for having been granted the privilege that it is to be a mum. We just dont always realise it.

Mumma's fast and easy Chicken noodle

 Im nearly halfway with my third pregnancy. It has been an interesting experience this time, with nausea, vomiting and exhaustion making themselves well known. That said things have been worse still this week with me coming down with a chest infection :(   

Juggling full time work, kids and household are hard enough - throw in a bountiful belly and you have one chaotic ride!

I believe in nourishing myself as much as my children, but it can be hard when your flat out! This receipe is one of my favs as its delish, he kids eat it (thank GAWD!) and the best part is its easy peasy!.... oh and did i mention AFORDABLE... gotta throw that in there!

You will need...

1 BBQ chook from the deli (ready cooked - pull it a part and put the chicken in a bowl aside)

1 Large vegetable stock

1 large chicken stock

1 tub of leggos pizza sauce - i use the garlic, onion and herb variety

1/2 a celery - finely sliced

either a bunch of spinach or a bunch of kale - finely sliced ( i used the spinach this times, as it looked nice on the                                                                                day and we hadn't had it in a while)

cloves of garlic to suit you - finely chopped

1/3 bunch of parsley - finely chopped

2 cups of water

1/2 a pack of angel hair pasta

1 leek or some eshallots depending on whats in stock - finely sliced

Deep soup pan/pot

Method

With some oil fry off the garlic and eshallots until soft. 

Add your stock, paste, celery, parsley, chicken & spinach and bring to boil.

Turn to simmer and add Angel hair pasta. Once the pasta is cooked, you can decide if you would like to add water - i tend to as i like my soup more broth like, however it purely comes to preference, also the past can absorb a little bit of water so thats another reason i tend to add some more.

Let the pot simmer for a little while - we usually serve with garlic bread so i let it simmer while im organising that and the table, kids etc.

Serve with garlic bread or some crusty fresh goodness from your local!

It keeps well, I wack it in containers in the freezer and take it to work if i make a large batch, but generally it gets eaten.... the noodles is what does it i think... what kid can say no to noodles ;)

BR: Daughter - Jane Shemilt

Daughter

By Jane Shemilt (debut novel)

★★★☆

I picked this book up purely because i saw Tess Gerritsen gave it high acclaim. It takes a good thriller to really grab me and keep me on the edge of my seat - and this novel is not your typical thriller.

It peels back slowly and subtlety. Jane is a successful family doctor with a life one can only dream of, house, husband, kids. But her entire life comes crashing down around her in one swift night - and the story that unravels around her pulls you in.

This novel explores the notion of what lies beneath the surface, the happy family that live very different lives once you scratch the surface.

Jane's youngest child goes missing and whilst every worst case-scenario is explored its the side stories which pull you into the novel! You very quickly begin to suspect that nothing is as it first appears, and that sometimes the people we love the most are the people we hardly know.

Well written and easy to read. Especially for a first novel. Based in England the writers gives you a real sense of being immersed in the environment and the characters lives. You want to know more, you want the pieces to come together.

It took a while to get in to the 'guts' of this one - but once your there there is no turning back. I found myself getting really frustrated with some of the characters, their sense of self entitlement and lack of insight almost debilitating.

Do yourself a favour and pick it up.

Let's drink to that!

We live in Australia, and this summer has been a 'ripper'. Scorching days mean little bodies wither away easily, and sometimes keeping them hydrated can be a challenge. I'm fortunate in that my kids love the good old H2O. I know many children though that don't and it's not always the best to be reaching to the cupboard to make a jug of  number laden sweetness (cordial/koolaid). 

 This summer we have taken to using my Maxwell & Williams Olde English jug (find it here). My mumma got it for Christmas. the recipe i have been using as a cordial substitute has been a hit with the kids, and really you could get very creative and change things up depending on what you like, but here is one of our fav recipes below...

the main thing with the kids is that they love colour! And Most tea's that contain Hibiscus will give you that punchy red they crave. It can be great to include little hands to make it up, as it helps them understand and learn about what they are putting into their body.

Ingredients:

6-8 herbal tea bags (i choose fruity varieties so there is no caffeine, also you may need more depending on the size of your jug)

About 4-6 cups boiling water to steep your teabags in, plus more cold water for after

2 tablespoons raw Apple Cider Vinegar 

Stevia or Honey to taste

1 1/2 teaspoons of sea salt

 juice of one lemon

Directions:

1. Add tea bags and salt to tempered jar.
2. Pour boiling water over tea bags and let steep 4-6 minutes
3. Fill jar the rest of the way with cold water.
4. Mix in vinegar and stevia or sweetener.
5. add lemon juice
6. Serve chilled over ice.

Notes: and option can be to throw in some mint leaves as well, it all depends on taste preference.

Herbal Tea. Herbal tea has a variety of health benefits, such as providing antioxidants, stress relief, promoting healthy sleep habits, and many other benefits.

Stevia. As ZERO calorie natural sweetener this herbal plant has many benefits such as lowering blood pressure, as well as preventing diabetes... but the list goes on 

Local Honey. Local honey is believed to help with seasonal allergies.

Apple Cider Vinegar. Supposedly, apple cider vinegar is practically magical and helps with energy, weight management, pH balance, cleansing of the lymph nodes, and a ridiculous list of other things.

Lemon and Salt. These items are used purely for electrolyte purposes. During summer, it’s very important to keep your body hydrated. 

Creating an authentic life?

Last year was one of the hardest years our family has worked through. Despite raising little babies and study and re-homing over the course of our little family’s life, 2014 was a big year for us.

In January of last year we bought our first home, a little cottage near the water in a rural coastal town, and as sweet an adventure as that may seem, it was quickly overshadowed by the daunting year that unraveled before us, as both my husband and I worked full time for the first time since we had our babies.

Graduating from university was a bittersweet moment, for the anticipation of endeavoring upon my career as a registered nurse, is was fraught with the notion that I would also have to undertake this year at a full time workload as per the requirement of my ‘new graduate’ position (an unfortunate con of living rural means limited options). The only reprieve from the onslaught of a constantly untidy house, tiredness, tantrums and takeaway meals was the knowing that come February 2015 I would be able to find a more appropriate workload. It was only a year.

2014 saw our family unravel, the grounding was gone and all that mattered was getting through the day; we all suffered as a result. Routine went out the door, as did the quality family time we so enjoyed. Stress was on high and the simplicity of life was no longer present.

We held large discussions again and again, but the footing never quite stilled, and so we continued on relentlessly aiming for this year, we welcomed 2015 with open arms.

One pay off for all the hard work was a double income. For the first time in years we had a disposable income, which most times was spent on the children, either in outings or gifts, if only because we had never the opportunity previously to do so. The problem with this however is that as the year ensued, their little minds became accustomed, and so now as a family we find new issues to deal with; issues of want and expectation.

These are easy fixed however. This year, 2015; will see us return to a basic, simple and authentic state of living, where time is a gift not to be overshadowed by objects. I’m excited to share with you our happenings over the year, a mix of moments and tid bits as we re-craft a simpler more authentic life.

Just over a year ago - before the move, before full time, before the chaos.

2/52 - summer dayz

Its the holidays, and we are spending  our days out and about. The perks of living among Australia's finest beaches means that there is always somewhere to go and explore. One of our favorite things to do though is to head to the local, where lately im enjoying a pot of peppermint tea to settle the tum, and then off to the local park. its surrounded by green grass and rich canopy with just enough dappled light to let us know the day is gorgeous, yet protecting the babes from the harsh nature of the Australian sun. 

This week in a midst the frolicking and beach play, my husband made a difficult decision. To hold our youngest back another year. It was a hard decision, only because really he is quite bright. what sealed it in the end though was his emotional and social abilities, which will probably be fine in a few more months, but we just didn't want to take the risk that they might affect his foundation at school. Jett only just turned 5 so there is no rush, and he is looking forward to staying home with mumma and the baby, he already can't wait to swaddling 'her' (we don't know what we are having its too early but he wants a sister) and helping mumma. I must admit i am looking forward to it too.

Linking in with Jodie and the 52 project 

This kid is too cool for school

       

 
        Its hard not to smile in his presence

1/52

well 2015 has finally arrived. Last year i attempted the 52 project, but being my first year out from uni, working full time, i wasn't able to keep up, and it disappointed me because i loved  the idea of being able to look back at the year and see what it brought, the highs the lows, the changes.

Towards the end of last year i decided that i would attempt the commitment once more. This year i am able to drop down in hours at work and as a result ill have a little more me time. I,m looking forward to capturing the memories we make.

This week see's us celebrating the first week of the year! the very first day in fact see's us celebrating my baby's 5th birthday! it was spent in the pool out the back and the week was hot and bothersome even, wiping us out most days and ending with us relaxing in front of the aircon. These are the summer days i love and yearn for. Living on the coast brings the privileged of gorgeous beach access, and as much as i love to enjoy the salty air and squeak of sand beneath my feet. It was nice to have a week at home in our own little world, without watches or dates.

So here it is, 1/52.

this is how we ended up most days, sitting in front of the aircon, watching the world float by

'mum, mum!... im growing a beard!'... crazy kid was squeezing his guts out lol

The dark side of feeling.

Robbin Williams took his life yesterday. I look back and i see a childhood littered with his voice and it makes me smile, and then i stop.

Depression is a tricky one. People close to me know that it is something i have struggled with myself over the years. Depression, PTSD and Anxiety are words that bring back a flood of dark and shadowy places that leave you just outside of reach of anybody.

People throw around phrases in times like this, things like, 'suicide is selfish' or 'it's a cop out'. But the truth is when your in the haze of that kind of pain, a pain that is intangible and elusive, suicide holds a reprieve. Even if it is the most horrible kind, it is a reprieve and that is all that matters. The thing is when we look at depression, when we look at suicide, we are hammered by thoughts surrounding the loved ones that are to be left behind, the children the lovers the parents the friends - how could someone do that to the people they love. But there in lies a traumatic truth, there in possibly lies a glimmer in to how all-consuming depression is. Because in the light of all the love that surrounds them, the life that thrives just beyond grasp, there comes death.

People fail to fully comprehend that Death is the only light at the end of the tunnel for these people, and so with that in mind, maybe you get an idea of just how dark a place depression can really be. People are so encapsulated by the darkness of depression that to end their life becomes their final hope.

So to make gruff remarks about  'suicide is selfish' or 'it's a cop out', is not productive of conducive to helping those that are in the darkest moments of their life, wrangling each day with a cloud of endless, un-meetable desperation. Instead it is damaging, in ways you may not even fathom.

I was a lucky one, for a many varying, perfectly timed and balanced reasons, i - on this day, am a winner.

But it never really goes away, it's always there in the back of your mind. Not that you are these things, these words, simply that you had it. Like a black cloud that ceases to evade, it follows me, alongside the life i create, as a reminder of a time in my life when i felt alone and weaker, despite the love that pressed in on me from all around.

When i talk about it with people, i can almost hear the shock. The thing is, i think the shock comes from my ability TO talk about it.People avoid eye contact, they brush over it and they change topic very quickly, because it un nerves them to do so. So here is my advice, just listen. Let what they talk about be ok and safe, let them pour themselves out to you with out question or judgment.

We live in a culture where not being ok, isn't ok... and that's not OK!

Why can't people reach out and ask for help without feeling like they are being judged or belittled. Because i can tell you now, that's what it was like for me. People don't know what to say, how to react. And the most difficult part to explain to people, is that depression is not about being sad.

Sad is a very different thing. Depression is about deeply, so very very deeply, feeling hopeless, beaten and exhausted. Feeling sad would almost be a reprieve in it's own. depression is so very much more, a complex, debilitating and consuming state of being. To look back on it now it is even almost to difficult to put into words what it feels like to be depressed.

Perhaps that is where the problem lies. People can not relate, they can only relate to being sad,and well being sad sucks, but you get up, you dust yourself off and you move on-wards, right?

Not being able to relate to something intangible is difficult for people. There in lies the reality of mental health and mental illness.

How do you ask people to be patient with you, for years, for something they can not see and/or even begin to understand?

For me i was lucky. It took years, but i can safely say my life has never looked better. I have hope, i have love i have cleared my skies and danced in its sweet sweet light. But we do not all get that opportunity to heal, some of us fall down like defeated soldiers in the face of its wrath. Just like Robbin did.

My heart goes out to his family, and my heart goes out to anybody that is touched by this disease. It's a heart wrenching journey that takes it's toll, and theses people need acceptance and patience above all.

xxx

if you think you or someone you know is not ok ---->      http://www.beyondblue.org.au/

Little adventures

There are days when the world pulls at me. Yesterday was one of those days. I yanked Mason out of school and we spent the day hiking through Aussie bush, the warmth of spring was evidently close as we let ourselves thump with joyous muse through the trails blazed through a Swordgrass and Banksia playground. Our reward was the sweet salty air, an implosion of white baking in the warmth of the sun as well as maybe a chocolate milkshake at a darling cafe.

Real Mothering Hurts

Dogs teach children lessons a parent never could.

he hates to admit it, but he loves his mumma taking photos

It can be hard not to feel dejected at times, beaten within an inch of my life by the constantness that is motherhood. I sit here failing to grasp just how I could articulate what it is to be a mother. For all its beauty and for all it’s overwhelming purpose and simplicities, motherhood, leaves you with pangs of defeat, moments where no attempt no matter how great could ever abate those feeling of disenchantment one simple moment can bring you.

I spoke with one of my friends just the other day. We spoke of how as parents we unite, yet as mothers we can at times feel so alone, so isolated. What do you mean? You might ask. Well what I make reference to is that part of mothering that ceases to take pause, the constantness. That part where it is always mum as option A, dad as option B.

I sat at home the other day, writing, trying my best to get in the ‘zone’ and I suppose truly, it was a fail on my part to even assume that was possible, to get into to any form of zone with little feet parading around the house. What wore me thin more than anything else though, was that although their father sat almost less than 3 meters from me, with them whilst they watched some afternoon cartoons, it was me they proceeded to come up to an ask, for permission, for help, to inquire, to dob. I found myself in states of complete disenfranchise. How could mothering be such a menial task! How could everything I love, everything that fills me with that heart wrenching love, also take me to some of my darkest parts of myself? I sat that disillusioned with the revelation that this is the mothering that is not talked about. This is not what they tell you about in parenting classes, or on those heartfelt blogs about the authentic, totally enamoring gift of parenting. And truly I love my children, that is not to be questioned, what I question instead is the ability to love myself, and to love it on my own terms, to be able to be anything other than mum all of the time. To have those moments which solely are mine, to have moments where dad is chosen first, if not purely out of proximity.

I am one of the lucky ones, I have an amazing husband and brilliantly engaged father – he is cooking AND doing the dishes as I type here fervourously. So why do they choose me, why do I have the constantness?

Why because I am mum, and that is what we do without question of condition.

It will abate with time, I know… I hope. And in the shadows of that loss, years from now, I know I’ll draw a tear as I find reverie in the times when they needed me so fiercely.

Yet until then, I want you to know, that this is the part of mothering they don’t tell you about. This is the part that hurts, the part where you feel lost and tired, the parts where you can’t wait for bedtime, where you feel disillusioned and lied to. They are transient but they are real. Mothering is real and it is ok to feel defeated because tomorrow you will rise to the occasion once more, you will stand strong and roar your mothering roar to the face of the wind as it dares to call your bluff. Because your love is fierce, your love is strong and it will stand unwavering against those dark moments despite what you think you feel, despite feeling as though you have been crushed by the constantness of mothering. Because that is what we do, we are mothers and our love is never broken, it is only hidden beneath surface, always ready to break free.

23\52 | Simplistically us.

he lay like this for a few minutes, savoring life? who knows

his life is complete so long as a ball is in hand, dirt staining his skin with childhood memories.

I took a hiatus these last few weeks from social networking and I found myself feeling guilt ridden, more so for not complying with my commitment of blogging each week. Then I thought, WHY?

As a mum of two young boys, and fulltime worker, I think I manage my life well. Sure there are moments with greater clarity than others, however, on a whole I feel as though my intentions are merited. I enjoy the and look for pleasure in life’s meritocracies, which in essence means that I am an actively grateful person.

so i got to thinking... 

When did we decide that we can only be grateful for triumphs that are outside of normalcy? When did we decide that it was ok to judge simplicity as average, and measure success in the complexity and difficulty of an ascertained achievement? Our lives have been corrupted by social media, and not in a good way. We seek to achieve in comparison to others, we measure success through our online relationship to what we are perceiving. Pinterest for example, i love it, it inspires me, but it also has the potential to remind me how mediocre (at best) i am as a person, as a wife and as a mother... if i let it!

I think as mere human beings we need to take the time to acknowledge our simplicities. We strive so hard for superiority and greatness, that often times, we negate the beauty that lies in that which passes us by, that which we did not strive for.

I walked out of work yesterday and the smell of winter was on the air, I don’t quite know how to describe it, other than it was crisp and fresh, I could feel the beat of a winter air on my face as the wind blew over the river below and cascaded up an over the ridge towards me. For a brief moment I was mindful, I was present. I closed my eyes lightly and let go and gave my thoughts away. There was so much appreciation in that moment for so many things, more simplistically of them was the ability to be mediocre. To head home to my family, ‘mundane’ as that might appear, to drive my average car to my average (though totally adorable house), to my average family, where we will fight over what is for dinner (something not very pinterest worthy im sure), settle arguments with chocolate, not always get the kids bathed before bedtime, and dare say get them to school late more times that I should. I found myself aptly grateful for the simplicity of normality, and it’s context in my life.

So I have decided to shake off the onus feeling of not engaging in what I have strived to complete – said blog. Instead I revel in the appeased feeling of appreciation for taking a few weeks out to be simplistic and mediocre. It was beautiful, I suggest it!

xxxx

Family roots

My boys love their family. This week, today in fact, my boys (mason more so)  played their last footy game with uncle Sean for a while. Uncle Sean is venturing off to the Navy and has a year of study and training ahead. It was a big decision that he has worked hard for. 

Bitter sweet to see this manly display of respect, love and adoration of my sons and their uncle, of my husband and his brother. Sean has a wife and daughter, who my boys adore greatly, and for the sorrow i know my boys may feel at not seeing him for that while, i know that pain will be ten fold for his small gorgeous family. 

Family roots

We will be here, supporting your family while you build a better life for them. Everyone is proud of you mate! You've got this ;)

19\52 | Mothers Day

part amphibious - he would play in here all day.

It's that time of year... when the summer tan starts to fade and the winter winds approach.

It's mothers day today. My children beamed into the room this morning after hubby ensured a small sleep in. They were ecstatic for a whole 5 minutes then preceded to carry on with their own little lives. I didn't mind. I was celebrating mothers day on the back of some nasty food poisoning, and so to be left alone was not a huge issue for me, in fact i welcomed the reprieve.

I laid in bed, drifting in and out of slumber, to the familiar sounds of my life, squeals, screams and giggles. Thumps to the walls and thrumming of little feet as they run through the house. 

Mothers day. A day to celebrate and acknowledge the hard work and sacrifices made and endured. Also a day to reflect and be grateful for the normality my life holds. 

Grateful for two little boys.

Grateful for their health.

Grateful for a supportive husband.

Grateful for financial security.

Grateful for family support.

Grateful for normality.

There are mums out there today making hard sacrifices for their families, mothers nursing empty blankets as they console themselves in the memories of a life lost. Mothers at work to earn money to put a roof over their child's head and a warm meal in their belly. Mothers who have no one but their own self to rely on. Mothers in hospital wards nursing sick children. Mothers fighting ugly custody disputes.

We come in all shapes and sizes, we try hard, we hurt, we strive and we make make sacrifices for the love a child, that simply, pure love.

So to all my mums out there,  i hope your day is special, and i hope you know how amazing you are!

Happy Mothers Day!

Linking in with Jodie and the 52 Project and the girls over at The Whole Hearted Journal

18\52 | Chillin wit the boys

He is always looking for a way to find his own little space in the world.

He loves the bunnies, and i love how much he loves them... all on his own!

This week we found balance, we had coffee in the familiar hum of our local grind. we took venture to new places and found new and exciting places to explore. We came home and snuggled on the couch and made sure someone enjoyed his fav team on the box.

17\52 | The difference a year makes

Mason - always the adventurer  

  Jettah - always the lover

This week i found my self looking back - looking at how far they have come. I admire them so much and i appreciate the way they allow me to see such vibrancy in the world. Mason with his vivacious lust for life and Jettah with his poised ability to see the beautiful in everything. They ground me and push me to new heights all at the same time. 

I hope one day they are able to read back on these moments and know how much i love them. How much they help me be the best i can be. I watch them grow and my heart aches, it aches for the hoe of time standing still, just long enough to fully breathe their scent, to trace the lines in their dimpled smiles and the shape their hands in mine. But time does not. It never will. It pounds ahead daring us to pick up speed and run along with it, in a dreamy haste to move forward and upward. 

Oh the difference a year makes. 

I wonder what lies ahead... i wonder what next year will bring.

Linking in with Jodie and the 52 project and the girls over at The Whole Hearted Journal

16/52 | Watch them grow

 

 

There are parts of motherhood that escape me. It's as if I have popped my head down, to rest for just a fraction of time. Yet, there is no rest for mothers and so when I raise my head, time has lapsed and there they are, my boys grown.

 

This was one of those weeks.

 

Watching Mason grow, everyday, is not hard. He is the eldest and I suppose there is a thrill that comes with watching them meet milestones, of uncovering new depths in their own little selves. The first time they sit, the first time they walk, the first word, the first stick figure, we celebrate the firsts for them, we reach for them and relish them as mothers do.

 

With the second, we ache. We hold on to them, because we know!

 

As mothers we know just how vicious the resting and the reaching can be for them as children, we know that they are not forever. That the dimples on their bottoms fade, their want for the breast, their reach for our hand.... it all fades. We rest less, we celebrate less, we mourn.

 

It is no less beautiful, it is no less a marvel to see our little miniature humans thrive the way we so hope they would!... Simply we know and respect what time takes from mothers.

 

When my eldest left for school last year, for his very first year - in uniform too big for him, in a  bag that hid him from the world filled mostly food and hope. I wasn't sad. I didn't cry like I thought I would. Because he was my first, he was my big boy... I was proud and I forgot about the rest, I forgot about time. I was simply proud of his aging and his moving forward.

 

This week however, my big boy lost a tooth. 

 

For the very first time, I took pause, I ached and I acknowledged that no attempt from me, no matter how big, will ever hold him back for me, will ever allow me to  keep them just so, with their tininess nuzzled in my neck. They will always grow, they will always reach. And as their mother truly, it is what I know and want for them.

 

But this week as the toothfairy made her round, she paused, she breathed in his sticky scent of dirt and sweetness and wiped the tear from my cheek.

 

He will grow, despite me, and I will love him every day for it!

 

 

Linking in with Jodie for the 52 Project and the mums over at The Whole Hearted Journal

15/52 | milton

I forget how big he is getting... always my baby



LOL - ever the dramatic. kissing the guns after winning a round of soccer with his brother whilst I watched on with my coffee

It can be hard finding balance, and with the holidays approaching and knowing I would be working every 'school'day of them, I decided I needed to yank the boys out of class for the day and go on an adventure. It was splendid! We ended up in Milton and Narawallee, beautiful areas. We found Lama's and old trees and even a bee hive in the rainforest walk!  Ahhh balance... I may have found you this week!

linking in with Jodie and the 52 project and the mums over at Wholehearted

14/52 | That Mothering Ache

     

Their love for each other overwhelms me to no end.

There is something about mothering that opens your eyes. I know that sounds tired and cliché. What I’m talking about is something a little different. As a young child, as an aspiring adult, our self-indulgence and somewhat narcissistic nature allow a certain haze to hang about us. We venture through our life never really acknowledging or caring for the lack of permanency it holds. Seldom do we stop to really see, the haze instead swirling through the rationality of our minds, never fully allowing us to embrace the fleeting beauty that is life. To awaken.

We live. We die.

And too often as humans we fight so hard for tomorrow, raging against the torrents of being here, there, doing this now, getting things done quick! We infrequently take pause. We disengage from being present.

I feel this change with mothering. Oh the beauty of mothering. Small fingers, small toes, dirty feet and aching cries, cries that tug at you, cries that warm your bosom as they flow from their eyes to your heart. We as mothers know a love that is greater in strength than any feat imaginable, though there is a paining payoff for the knowing of this love.

We live overwhelmed with the now. In vast contrast to our former selves we are ever present. We humbly nod our heads in recognition of the mortality of this life. We hold our babes closer; we commit their scent to memory and drown ourselves in them. For as mothers we are confronted with the possibility of it all escaping us, of being out of reach in moments. As mothers we ache.

Yesterday as I got ready for work, I had an ominous feeling take hold. It was nothing and for no real reason. Just an irksome itching in the deeper parts of myself that told me to hold my babes that little bit longer. To make sure they heard me say ‘I love you’, before I left them. Later that day a child passed away at work. It was enough to shake the darkest parts of me alive, enough to make me stop and think. Yes if the world, My world stopped today! In this moment, my children knew.

My love for them is big, it is huge. But we are small and not immune to the mortality of this world. And so for all the hugeness of my love, for all the greatness and centering mothering brings there is that pay off. So I ache, every day for my babies, that beautiful, raw mothering ache, which stops the world and pulls at your heart.

We live. We die.

Linking in with Jodie and the 52 Project, aswell as The Whole Hearted Journal, mothering as it is.

12/52 | A mother's love

Some times we just don't make it to the night routine.

His pride in typing a sentence, fills me with a an achy pride i never knew possible.

A mother’s job is to love her child. There is no complexity to this, it is simple, yet it is a task fraught with endless fear of failure. We dive deep with raw and endearing pursuit to achieve, to conquer and to rise above and beyond our own on measures. Yet we burst through the surface of that love in constant throws of guilt. Barely do we break that surface, barely do we stop and breathe deeply, our lungs filling, relishing in the relief that possibly, just maybe today we got it right!

I sit here tonight in judgement of myself, of the choices I make which as a mother I feel lead me to an endless torment of criticism and judgement on my own part. This is wrong. I am a mother and my job, in this lifetime is to love them, is to love them with the deepest parts of myself and to tire in my efforts to ensure that this love is known, and felt by them. Everything else will follow in due course. So when the day has taken hold of whom you are and left you raw and broken, turn to your little babe and ask.

‘Did I love them today?, Did I love them deeply and wholly, with such fervorous resolve and reverence for the little person they are?’. Because that is your job. To love them so as they know that who they are, this little person they are becoming, is not judged. Rather it is welcomed, is celebrated. In your arms above all else they will be sheltered, they will be loved, they will find home. If you can do this for your child, if you can be this for your child, then I say you are being the best mother you can be. You have broken the surface, so take a breath, inhale deeply and delight in it’s soulful replenishment. For today you were the best mum you could be.

Linking in with Jodie for the 52 Project and the girls from the wholeheartedjournal - A celebration of motherhood.