19 July 2011

Confessions of a Pollyanna Blogger

In my house, I can usually get a feel of how the day is going to play out before my feet hit the floor. So you can just imagine what I felt when I woke to Squeak next to me not squeaking but just being loudly  disagreeable. No, scrap that. Bawling for no apparent reason, apart from just being really pissed off with something. This was followed closely behind by Imp marching into my room with a look on her face of "Mum! I have to dob The Eldest in for something that has annoyed me greatly which will in turn, get you annoyed at me for the level of trivia it really is about".

Great. Awesome. And this follows on perfectly from a night when I tipped half my cup of drink over my bed clothes and PJs at 4 am and I have spent a cold winters night in a thin t shirt, having quilt wrestles with Squeak.

If I was a weather system, BOM would have issued an immediate warning of a large looming storm cell with a high chance of moderate stomping, flash growling and gusts of impatience.

Imp was told firmly that if she had nothing nice to say, and considering I am still reeling from the fact it is morning already, that her choice was to stop with the dobbing or walk away. She chose to walk away and go cry loudly in her room. I look over at Squeak and she is still vocalising her displeasure but has now accompanied it with some well co-ordinated "I'm really pissed" thrashing.

I cannot escape.

I am dreaming of place. Child free. Noise free. Just me, a hot cup of tea and my thoughts.......  


"WAH!!!!!!!!!" Slapped back to reality with the forcefulness of a shovel. Only one thing to do. Update my facebook status so the entire world can be privy to my utterly painful morning. After all, sharing is caring, right?

Soon my phone is impatiently buzzing in my hand. It is my wonderful friend and surrogate big sister Kestral who has seen my words and is now inquiring on how the inside of my oven really does look. She listens to me while I lament about my morning and the past two weeks of chain reactions of calamities which has led to this moment of defeatism.

Background: We have also had mix ups with Husbands previous employer and their major discrepancy with their calculations on his group certificate which is holding us up from lodging a tax return and is therefore putting a planned trip of mine in jeopardy. Oh and have I mentioned that while driving with my children last week, a truck decided to hit our car and now it needs repairing? Sigh....

She proceeds to tell to me how she has bad days too. When being a parent just is the most difficult thing to do and that sometimes we will find ourselves starring down at the frayed end of the patience tether. This stops me in my tracks.

"You have moments like this too?"
"Oh yes. We all do" she replies gently.

Then it hits me. I have everyone else on this glorious parental pedestal while I am being extraordinarily hard upon myself. Why is that? Why do I think that everyone else around me is just this amazing mother/wife/partner friend who is so together and can just swan through the day with their cherub faced children?

Maybe it is because that is all we tell each other.

I begin to muse to Kestrel about how it seems that through talking to other mothers, blogging etc, that we forget to tell the whole story:

Like after repeatedly telling your children to be quiet while you are on an important phone call and then they proceed to do things like use cake tins as a drum, that you sweetly tell the person on the other line "Can you just hold on for a moment?" hit the mute button, take a deep breath and then threaten them with something if they don't stop it NOW!

That at night time, when they are fast asleep, Husband and I don't look lovingly down upon them and think  about how blessed we are with such wonderful little cherished angels and that watching them sleep just makes us more grateful of these little miracle. Sometimes we look to the heavens, take a deep breath and say "thank god for that!"

So why do we not tell it how it is? That it isn't always pretty? That it isn't always light and it is sprinkled, sometimes heavily, with dark? Don't we owe it to ourselves and each other? I know if I spoke to another Mum or read a blog, about their day of parenting which included the dark as well as the light, that I wouldn't look down upon them with judgement. I would exhale and think, "oh there are others who feel like this too". Solidarity in the confidence of saying proudly "Hi. I am a parent and this was the low of the day and this was the high of the day"

My "low" of the day was a morning where I felt I had been thrown into a whirlpool of noise and grizzles. I was completely overwhelmed and felt this was the icing on the cake of a horrendously horrible fortnight. It was then followed by a phone call of love and support from a friend which left me in tears of gratitude then one from Husband who suggested to forget about it all and just go lay out on the lawn in the sun with the kids. Followed by walking out to the kitchen to find Husband had made me a pot of tea before he went to work, got food out to defrost for dinner and that The Eldest had made breakfast for The Littles (and for me too). That was my high.

So we started our day again and spent the majority of the day in the sun. We also had a picnic lunch in the backyard.


Now I am going to kick back and eat the last Tim Tam in the cupboard because I really do deserve it.

13 July 2011

Everything old is new again

Op shops. Thrift stores. Charity shops. Whatever you want to call it, I LOVE THEM!!!

It has only been recently that I have rediscovered the joy of op shopping. Maybe its the frugal-ness in me, maybe its the joy of discovering something unique, the rush you get after wading through item after item to find that perfect thing that would fit in perfectly at home.

Here are my latest finds with an inadvertent theme running through it.

Reliving childhood

My mugs

Methinks I have a flower obsession.